Page 59 of Back to Square One

“Cindy pushed me away.” Her mom snorted a laugh. “Well, she tried to.” She shifted her position on the couch to face Rowan. “She said she didn’t want my help, that she didn’t need it. She said I was too busy with my social life—I think she said I was a social butterfly, if I recall correctly—and I should focus on that like I always had.”

“Ouch.”

“There were some other things said that I no longer remember, but what I do remember is how I felt. I was angry and I was hurt, and my initial reaction was, ‘Well, screw her then, if that’s what she thinks of me.’ ” She put a hand on Rowan’s knee. “What did Evelyn say to you, do you remember?”

Rowan smiled sadly. “It’s one of the few memories that have come back.”

Her mom gave her a sad smile. “Of course it is.”

“She told me she didn’t love me anymore.”

Her mother’s chest rose as she took in a deep, slow breath. “Yeah, that would do it, wouldn’t it?”

“Sure did.”

“Well, after Cindy crushed me with her words, and I was home wallowing for a few days about it, I started to think. Sure, it was possible that’s what she really thought of me, but she’d never given any sort of indication that she felt anything but love and friendship for me. We had our differences, like all friends do, of course, but she’d never even hinted that my other friendships were an issue. Also, I had you and I had a job and I was hardly a ‘social butterfly.’ ” She made the air quotes. “We were always solid besties, me and her. And then it hit me.”

“What did?”

“The kind of person Cindy was.”

Rowan frowned, not following.

“She was fun and hilarious and independent and giving and proud. She was so proud. And I knew that the last thing she’d want was for me to see her in any other light. It didn’t matter that we were best friends, or that I’d already seen her at her worst—drunk, hungover, devastated by a guy—cancer was a completely new and scary version of life for her, and she didn’t want to drag me through it with her.”

Rowan gave a slow nod. “I get that.”

“I did, too. But I wasn’t about to let her go through it alone, no matter how hard she pushed me away or how many times she slammed the door in my face.”

“What did you do?”

“I. Kept. Showing. Up.” Her mom enunciated each word, gently pounding a fist on Rowan’s thigh. “She’d tell me to leave, and I’d make tea. She’d tell me she didn’t need my help, and I’d do a load of laundry. She’d yell at me to leave her alone, and I’d change the sheets on her bed.”

Rowan’s eyes welled up—apparently, she had not used up all the tears yet—as she pictured her young mother, toddler at home, trying to take care of her best friend while being shoved away at the same time. “That must have been so hard for you, Mom.”

“It was horrible. I would be stoic while I was with her, and when I’d head home to you, I’d cry in the car for the entire drive. Then I’d pull myself together so I could be a good mom for you.”

God, she must’ve been dying inside. Rowan’s tears spilled over, and she grabbed for her mother’s hand. “Did she ever come around?”

A nod. “She did. She must’ve finally realized I wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how big a bitch she was, so she eased up on me and finally accepted not just that I wanted to help her, but that she was my best friend, and I wasn’t going to leave her to go through such a horrific thing alone. I mean, she had other people…her parents, a brother, some other friends, but she and I had been inseparable since our junior year in high school. We knew each other better than anybody else.” There was a moment of quiet where her mom seemed to be gathering herself. “It wasn’t a long battle, unfortunately for me, but fortunately for her. Her cancer was very aggressive, and she passed away after only a few months.” She turned and met Rowan’s eyes. “But I was there. I was with her the whole time, and she knew she wasn’t alone.”

“If you had to go back,” Rowan asked softly, “would you do it again?”

“In a New York minute.”

They sat on the couch for a long while, holding hands, heads on the backrest. Kevin came by and walked across both their laps before clearly finding them boring and moving on to another room.

Rowan inhaled slowly and let it out. “She has Claire.”

“Claire’s not you.”

God, she loved her mother. Smother or not, Rowan was so lucky. And she knew it. “What would you do?”

Her mom rolled her head so she could look at Rowan and smiled. “I’d shove my way in.”

Rowan laughed through her nose. “Yeah?”

“I absolutely would.” Her mom sat up. “Look. This disease won’t kill her. People live with MS all the time, but they have to be mindful. They have to take care of themselves so that some complication like pneumonia isn’t the thing that does them in. But her life has already changed drastically, and it may change more, and that probably terrifies her. You two were so good together. I saw it. She loves you. Still. I could see it on her face when I got here.” She squeezed Rowan’s hand. “She’s protecting you.” She studied Rowan’s face for a long moment. “Show her that she doesn’t need to do that. You don’t need protecting.” A pause, then, “Do you still love her?” Mom asked, in a quiet, gentle voice.