Page 34 of Sandbar Summer (Summer Cottage #3)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Viv, Two Months Later

Viv knew the phone call wasn’t a good one.

It had come so soon after the tests. That meant it was urgent.

Urgent wasn’t good.

She’d acted as though she had no inkling of what was to come on the drive to the hospital. She knew Siena was nervous enough for both of them.

Why make the possible last normal moments they shared weird by bringing on the gloom that could very likely settle over their lives? She knew the drive home would be different. At least now, in this space, she could pretend she didn’t know.

The leaves were turning. She usually loved autumn. Would she hate autumn now? Is that how it worked? If they put a song on the radio right now, would they then always be sad when they heard that song?

They kept the radio off.

She appreciated her daughter more than ever at this moment.

Her daughter was so smart, thoughtful, and calm.

Well, outwardly calm. Siena chatted about colors for the new scarves and a pallet for spring dresses.

Viv knew this was Siena’s way of coping with the weight of whatever came next.

Siena was a grown-up. How had that happened?

Her daughter was beautiful inside and out. She had Goldie’s smile. When Siena flashed a smile, it dazzled. That was pure Goldie Hayes. But Siena was longer, her coloring darker than Goldie’s. She was her own gorgeous creature.

Viv passed the time in the car thinking about changing leaves and memorizing her daughter’s face. They arrived at the hospital, and her nerves were manageable. She wasn’t exactly calm, but she was okay.

They walked to the office, meandered really. No need to rush this news.

Viv and Siena sat in chairs across from Dr. Hinkley. She’d seen Dr. Hinkley since they’d moved here. That had to be twenty years now. Twenty years ago, when Siena was a toddler. Maybe Viv should have called Bret, had him come with her.

Bret was her ex-husband, but her closest friend—well, really, still family. Was it unfair to lean on her girl for this?

She didn’t know what was right. Bret maybe would have forgotten to ask the right questions. Siena would ask the right questions. They’d come out of here with an exact picture of what to do next.

Dr. Hinkley looked grim. Or maybe Viv was projecting her own state of mind onto her doctor. Maybe she was just serious. Viv didn’t trust her own perceptions. That was weird. Perceiving the world, and interpreting it, was art. She was an artist.

But right now, she was a woman with a lump in front of a doctor with the news.

“Okay, we’re here. We’re ready,” Viv said.

“Well, I suppose you’ve already guessed. The biopsy wasn’t what we’d hoped.”

Siena reached out a hand to her, and Viv took it. She squeezed. She was feeling okay, strong for the moment, strong enough to hear what she knew was coming next.

“It is cancer.”

It sank in for a second, that word. Every time a doctor called, she feared that cancer was the reason: oh hey, that headache is cancer, that cough, cancer, that funny lump in your breast, cancer.

And it never was until it is.

But cancer could be anything these days.

It could be life or death. It wasn’t like with her mom.

She squeezed out that memory. That wouldn’t serve her well right now.

Viv was going to have to do a lot of visualizing.

Positive visualizing would help. Conjuring memories of her mother’s worst days would hurt.

She took a deep breath and asked the question.

“How bad?”

“Not the best, but not the worst. The tumor is around three centimeters, and we’ve got one lymph node involved.”

There, that ripped off the band-aid, her cancer had already spread.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’ve got a fight, but it’s one I know we can win.”

Viv took it in. She wondered what a fight meant to Dr. Hinkley. Viv already ate healthily, she exercised, she didn’t drink, well, didn’t drink much. She’d done all of the things.

Except…

Her mother. Her mother died of this. Her mother died of this. She squeezed away the memory. That was not the mantra she should chant.

The doctor began to say words that had no meaning. She’d need to look them up. Viv would understand all she needed to. She would be an active participant in this fight. No doubt about it. But right now, she felt disconnected from it. Were they talking about her?

She felt fine. That would change, but right now, she felt fine. Odd.

Viv looked out the window as her daughter, and the doctor continued to talk.

There would be time to learn all of this. She would know more about it than she wanted to, she supposed.

The window overlooked the neighborhood next to the hospital. This had to be peak fall color. Orange, burgundy, yellow, brown, they were all there, right below them. She would love to paint that. Or find a fabric with those colors.

She remembered autumn in Michigan. Out of the blue, the smell of apples came to her mind.

Libby and Hope used to drive all five of them to get apples and cider.

Libby had a car. Viv didn’t then. Ha, funny the things that pop into your mind when you’re trying to disassociate from the actual moment you’re trapped in.

Sandbar Sister memories were never too far away these days. She wondered why that was. Maybe because they were pure fun, pure youth, just pure.

Viv forced herself back to the present, to the conversation that was going on about her.

Her daughter was listening, taking the pamphlets offered.

Viv knew she needed to engage in this. She knew she’d be required to understand it all in detail.

She would do that. She would. But right now, just looking out the window was what she could manage.

She wanted to see the colors. Maybe she’d get out her paints this afternoon, after this appointment.

Maybe not, maybe she’d go for a walk.

It was hard to say what she would do, one minute to the next.

Her daughter asked about timing and who to schedule with. The details were all there to be arranged, the front desk, a surgeon. There were pamphlets and numbers for support. It was a club, she saw, a club of people who heard this same news.

Thank goodness for Siena. Siena was listening and handling it.

Viv would, too, soon.

Very soon, she’d be in the fight.

But for now, she looked out the window at the leaves on the trees.

The Story Continues in Sandbar Storm