Page 12 of Tear Me Apart

Themy daughter is about to dietone is back, and Mindy pulls away.

Juliet winks at her niece. “Hey, Lauren, let’s get some coffee. I haven’t seen you forever, and I think Miss MEW here needs a nap.”

“I do not.” But her eyes are drooping. While they argued, the morphine pump gave her a shot, and she isn’t long for the world.

Lauren fluffs her pillows and kisses her on the forehead. “We’re going to have a talk about your wild ways, young lady, but for now, take a little snooze while I go beat up your aunt.”

“Give it to her good, Mom,” Mindy says as she drifts off, one hand in her short hair, a smile still on her face.

Lauren crooks her finger in afollow megesture. It’s time for Juliet to take her lumps. Hazel isn’t at her desk, so Juliet puts the scissors in her top drawer as they walk past.

Lauren leads her to a small room at the end of the hall. Juliet looks around and realizes it’s soundproofed. A place for parents to scream their agonies to the universe, perhaps?

When the door closes with a meaty click, Lauren rounds on Juliet.

“I disappear for five minutes and you’re already causing trouble.” But there is no heat in the recrimination. Instead, she sags against the wall, puts her face in her hands, and grinds her fists into her eyes.

Juliet touches her on the shoulder, but Lauren hunches and brushes her off.

“I’m so sorry.”

“For messing up her hair or for the fact that she’s dying?”

“She’s not dying. Not yet, anyway. They’ve just diagnosed her. You have to give it some time. The advances they’ve made are incredible. The—”

“All well and good for you to say. She’s not your daughter.”

Juliet flinches. “No need to attack me, Lauren. I’m here to offer support. Mindy needs you to be a human being now, not an overbearing mother. You’re going to drown her in your sorrow.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She wanted me to cut her hair because it’s going to fall out anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Mindy does. She’s putting on a brave face for you, and you’re acting like she’s already in the grave.”

“You have no idea—”

“Yes, I do. I saw the look on your face when you came through the door. You were doe-eyed, tiptoeing around. She needs you to be brave and to treat her like the competitor she is. Nothing will stop Mindy, not even cancer. Quit acting like she’s been given a death sentence.”

And with that, she starts for the door.

“Wait,” Lauren commands. Juliet stops.

“I’m sorry. I’m stressed out. I know you were only trying to help.”

“That’s better,” Juliet says. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

Juliet accepts the contrite hug. Lauren’s bones feel hollow and insubstantial beneath her turtleneck like she’s empty inside her clothes.

“Work going well?” Lauren asks.

“As well as can be expected. I’m happy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Do you have a fellow yet?”

“A fellow? Are you from the ’40s? Are we going to wash our hair and put it up in pin curls now?”