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What if I say moo?
MIA
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A FEW HOURS LATER, Jer slides the last of our small bags into his trunk under an overcast gray sky. We hug Caesar and Erica goodbye.
The clouds huddle sullen and swollen above us. Maybe it will snow later in the day.
I let Danny have the front seat and sit in the back next to Penny. Jer is mostly silent on the drive home. He didn’t wake up when I slipped into our room and climbed straight into the shower, but he’s been quiet all day.
He probably thinks I’m annoyed with him for the way he handled my writing.
Or maybe he’s angry because he saw my tattoo again when I was getting dressed this morning.
His gaze keeps slithering past me like he can’t quite bear to look at me.
Everyone else is hungover, sunglasses on, drinking coffee like zombies. Each of them must have gotten more sleep than me, but I feel better than I have in my whole life, like I’ve just been set free after a long dark imprisonment. There’s just one final set of shackles built of guilt left to be broken.
I need to tell Jeremy. It won’t be easy, but he’ll be happier in the end, with someone other than me.
And... Annie, I’ll have to tell her too.
The thought burns thick in my stomach.
I text her now, as Jer drives down winding roads banked by gray-stained snow toward the highway.
Mia: How are you, friend?
She answers fast. Breastfeeding maybe. She always is.
Annie: The twins slept four hours straight last night. The SAME four hours. So that’s good.
Mia: Is four hours a lot?
Annie: Yes. Usually they both wake up every two to three and not the same two to three. I almost never get to sleep more than an hour and a half at a time. This was huge.
Mia: Then I amend my prior statement and say YAY! Woohooo! Four hours is awesome!
Annie: Ha. How was Finger Lakes?
Mia: Jer and I got into a fight.
Annie: Why?
Mia: He doesn’t like my writing. We all drank too much, and he played blackjack and it just... I don’t know.
Annie: Jer gambled? How much did he lose?
Mia: Whatever was in his wallet. A few hundred, not sure.
There is a long pause on her end. So long I put my phone down and watch the frozen landscape slide by. Danny and Penny talk about bands they want to see. I nearly drift asleep when the phone buzzes and it’s her.
Annie: You’re having cold feet. These doubts are normal. Jer has no problem with your writing. You’ve always written. It will be okay.
I don’t answer. I don’t know what I’d say. It’s not cold feet. But I’m trying to warn Annie. I don’t want our break-up to shock her.
Mia: How are you doing? Depressed?
Annie: I’m not sure. I’ve never been depressed before. Mostly I just want sleep. But at least my nipples aren’t bleeding.
Mia: Sigh. That’s good. I think we can all agree that life is better when your nipples aren’t bleeding.
Annie: Word.
Mia: Can I come by tomorrow night? I’ll sleep over. Wake up with the babies. Let you sleep.
Annie: Are you a cow?
Mia: Not last time I checked.
Annie: Then you don’t have milk. I’m the only one who can do it. Thanks though.
Mia: What if I say moo? I could bring the babies to you?
Annie: Greg does that. I don’t even get up. He’s started sleep walking.
Mia: Then I could let him get some sleep?
Annie: Nah, we’ll muddle through. You’d never forgive me for the things I say in the middle of the night. I’m such a bitch. I don’t even know how he’s managing work.
Mia: Annie, I’d forgive you anything. Let me come by this weekend. You can go take a nap.
Annie: Deal.
My eyes well up. She may not even want to see me by then.
Jer’s phone rings just as we hit the highway.
“Hey, Mom,” he says, voice still a little rough from his hangover.
“Jer?” Even Penny, who’s never met Jer’s mom can tell something is wrong. Her voice has that warning tone people get when they’re about to tell someone bad news.
“Mom? What is it?”
“It’s your father.” She pauses as if she’s gearing herself up for something, and I reach forward to touch his shoulder.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“We didn’t want to tell you until after Thanksgiving.”
“You’re scaring me, Mom. Just tell me.”
He hunches over the steering wheel like a beaten man, like he already knows whatever she’s going to say isn’t going to be good.
Danny touches his shoulder. “You need to pull over, man. Let someone else drive.” He raises his voice. “Hang on, Mrs. Dixon. We’re on the highway. Just let Jer pull over.”
Jer is shaking, but he gets the car to the shoulder, and he and Danny switch places.
“We’re back in the car, Mom. What’s wrong with Dad? Is he dead?”
“No, sweetheart. Nothing like that.” She takes in a deep breath, and I can picture her bird-like hands clutching tissues, her face tight with concern. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I think he was embarrassed. It was little things at first. He was sick sometimes. Lost his appetite and then he lost weight. The doctor ordered some tests done. We thought it might be an ulcer but...”
Oh no. I squeeze Jer’s arm.
She’s silent for a long moment. Probably letting that sink in. I know what’s coming, and my selfish heart sinks, because it means I can’t possibly break it off with Jeremy now, and no way will I be able to see Stranger tonight.
Instantly after, shame sets in at my selfish heart. Poor Jer. Poor Annie. This will be so hard on them.
“Your dad has cancer, honey. I’m so sorry.”
Jer reaches up and squeezes my hand. “How bad is it?”
“Pretty bad. Stage four.”