Page 93 of Saving Graces
“Oh my god.” Rosalie’s voice cracked. “Mom.”
She hugged her, something she hadn’t done voluntarily in decades. Her mom clung to her and wept.
Rosalie led her mother inside, setting coffee down as they sat across each other at the dining room table.
“As soon as the doctor told me, my first thought was you,” her mother said. “I just had to tell you.”
“Of course,” said Rosalie, guilt and pain welling up within her. “What do you need?”
Her mind was racing. Would she have to move home? How would she juggle all the appointments with her job? Leave, she’d have to take leave. Oh god, the kids. Okay, no, focus. Cancer. Her mom was dying.
“I just need you back in my life,” her mom said weakly. “I can’t stand that I’m a mom that doesn’t have her children anymore. It’s killing me.”
“I…” Rosalie blinked. She’d heard this spiel her whole adult life. It felt different now. Her mom was sick. “Of course,” she swallowed. “Of course I’ll be there.”
“We could go on a trip together,” her mom said hopefully. “Like a cruise?”
“I mean, how would that work?” Rosalie asked carefully. “Like with your treatment.”
“Oh,” said her mom, “it’ll be okay. There’s not much treatment.”
Rosalie swallowed, throat tight, her voice a rasping whisper. “What kind of cancer is it?”
“It’s melanoma,” her mom told her.
Rosalie nodded. Her eyes felt glassy. “It spread?” She tried to understand.
“I mean, it could,” her mom said. “I have to live every moment as if it’s my last. We all do.”
“It… hasn’t spread?”
“Well, I mean, not at the moment,” her mom gave her a hard look. “But you never know with cancer.”
“Wait,” said Rosalie, a whole new pit forming in her stomach. “What exactly did the doctor tell you?”
“Oh, you know doctors,” her mom scoffed. “They never tell you the whole story.”
“Mom. Are you telling me you had a mole removed? That’s it?”
“It had cancer in it, Rosalie. Cancer. I am fighting cancer. I need you-”
“It was just a mole? You don’t need more treatment?”
“You never know, sometimes-”
Rosalie jerked to her feet and spun away from the table. She called her dad, ignoring her mom as her voice got higher and more affronted.
“You don’t have cancer.” Rosalie spoke over her after she’d confirmed the facts. She braced herself on the table edge with one hand, pressing the other to her cramping stomach. “You’re absolutely fine.”
“Rosalie!” her mother started to weep. “How can you stand there and be so cold? So callous towards me? I am in fear for my life-”
“Mom!” she cried. “You can’t manipulate me into being back in your life! You didn’t lose your children because we didn’t love you enough. You lost us because you listened to the church instead of us. You didn’t love us enough. You.”
It took another ten minutes to get her out of her house.
She called Savannah, shaking.
“Is there room up there for two?” she asked, as soon as Savannah finally picked up on the fourth attempt.
