Page 58 of Grinch Girl

I waited for her to say a word now, but she didn’t. She just stared blankly into space. I sucked in a shuddering breath, experiencing vertigo from the role reversal. Greta wasn’t going to comfort me tonight. She wasn’t going to take care of me.

I was going to take care of her.

Briskly, I turned on the kitchen light, zapped her cup of tea in the microwave, and sat down in front of her. “Tell me,” I said.

She finally raised her watery eyes. “Ovarian cancer.”

I nodded calmly, although the two words had been like a bolt of lightning. If I’d gotten up from the kitchen table to see a streak of white in my hair, I wouldn’t have been at all surprised. “OK. What, ah, stage is it? What did the doctor say about treatment?”

My ultra-Zen demeanor was the exact right choice. I could practically see Greta giving thanks that she didn’t need to handle someone else’s hysteria. “Stage 1,” she said. “So that’s good.”

“That’s very good,” I agreed. I stood to put the kettle on, as though I wanted tea too. Really I just wanted to give her space to talk without someone staring at her with wide eyes.

She bit at her lower lip before continuing. “First, I’ll need surgery to remove the tumor. Then a course of chemo, probably.”

I frowned and sat back down. “Surgery and chemo. That seems like a solid plan. Where?” There was no hospital in Falworth. No medical facility in any close town for that kind of treatment.

She sighed. “My new oncologist is in Kenosha.” She put a frail hand to her temple and yawned, looking so exhausted I wanted to drape a blanket over her right then and there.

Kenosha was an hour’s drive away, more if there was any weather or construction on Highway 50. I didn’t know anything about surgery or chemo, but I suspected a fair amount of the next several months was going to be spent driving back and forth. Greta wouldn’t be able to do the drive herself, not if she was sick. Maybe her friends would help, but they all had families and responsibilities of their own. How would she run the shop while she was sick? Her summer help would all go back to college after Labor Day.

The teakettle began to scream. I got up and put fresh bags in cups. Poured the steaming water. I probably should have made some tea for Kelly before I’d left her tonight. Her hands had been so cold when I handed her the food. Not that she seemed to notice. But tea would have been good for her. Warm and hydrating.

My phone buzzed with a text from Bella.This shift is never-ending!!! Seven days until we’re outta here!!!

I squeezed my eyes shut so hard it hurt. For maybe the first time since we’d gotten phones, I didn’t respond to Bella’s text.

Instead, I put my phone back in my pocket and took the mugs to the table. “I’ve been thinking,” I said carefully. “I’m not sure it makes sense for me to go with Bella next week. I can always start up at the community college in Madison during the winter semester. She’s going to be so busy with her mega-brain classes right away anyway.”

If I didn’t go, I could use the money I’d saved for the past three months to get Kelly in somewhere, and I’d watch her like a hawk. I’d be able to take Greta to her treatments and mind the shop.

“Jane,” Greta started to protest.

“What?” I’d said simply. “Am I your family or am I not?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Of course you’re my family.”

“Well then.” I’d stood again and grabbed a box of her favorite ginger cookies from the pantry. “These are the kinds of things families do.”

I didn’t ask her how she was going to tell Bella because I already knew she wouldn’t. If Bella knew, she wouldn’t leave. Which wasn’t an option. Bella was the star of our high school, and the entire town was ecstatic about her full ride to the university. When we were notified of the scholarship, Greta had cried tears of joy and pride for a full hour.

Bella was going.

Bella thought I was joking when I told her a few days later that I wasn’t going with her. “Yeah, sure.” She’d winked. “You’re just going to stay here forever and rot?”

“Not forever,” I said. Already, I had my doubts about the winter timeline I’d first mentioned to Greta. I’d have to spend all of my savings and then some to get Kelly into a reputable rehab facility. If I was caring for Greta, I wouldn’t be able to work enough to save as much cash as I’d need to move. It would realistically take more like a year.

So, to Bella, I said, “You should live in the dorms. Get a roommate.” I swallowed bitter waves of jealousy. But Bella was shy, and she’d make friends more easily living on campus.

That’s when she realized I was serious. “Jane! What are you talking about? You have to come with me!”

I’d flinched at the half-panicked, half-pissed tone. “I don’t, actually,” I forced myself to say. “You’re the one with the scholarship. I don’t even have an acceptance letter. I’ll just come later. God! It’s no big deal!”

We didn’t speak to one another the day she left. I thought we’d make up right away, but Bella did get overwhelmed with her classes and the new living environment. I got overwhelmed with Greta’s health care and balancing a variety of jobs. So we didn’t talk. At all.

Missing Bella was like missing a limb those first few months, but I figured we’d patch things up whenever I could get to Madison to visit her or whenever she came home to visit.

Christmas, I figured. Christmas for sure.

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