“I don’t pussyfoot around,” Darynda said, in a let’s-get-something-straight voice. “The cancer will kill her, but the surgery and radiation will give her time.”
Madison gasped. The truth, and Darynda’s blunt delivery, was a stake through her heart. Too much to process, even with Xanax. “But she’s fine. She jogs three miles a day. She runs a B&B at seventy-six. She’s iron woman.”
“Madison”—Darynda pulled no punches—“those days are over.”
She did not run from responsibility, or the truth. If Grammy was dying, then she was dying. That’s what her mind said, anyway. Her heart rolled over, kicked and screamed, She’s wrong, Grammy’s strong, she’s not going anywhere.
“How long does she have?”
“Fifteen months, give or take.”
Horrified, Madison palmed her mouth. “Why didn’t she call us before now?”
“She didn’t want you to worry. There were tests and consultations.”
“We’ve lost time with her.” Madison glared at Darynda. “Why didn’t you call us?”
“I had to honor her wishes. This is Helen’s life. She’s in control. Not you.”
Not you. A judgment. Criticism. Who was Darynda to issue edicts?
Get to Grammy. Fix this. The words were part of the pounding in her brain, merging with the throb of the migraine.
“Dammit, Darynda.” Madison smacked her fist into her open palm. “You know this isn’t right.”
“No, it’s not.” Her eyes and tone softened, and Darynda looked as if she wanted to touch her.
Madison stepped back, bottom lip trembling. She bit down hard to keep from crying. She would not break down. “Where’s Gia?”
“In the waiting room.”
“Shelley?”
Darynda shook her head.
“Shelley’s not coming?” Madison blew out her breath, relieved, yet feeling strangely like a boxer who’d geared up for a much-touted grudge match only to learn her opponent was a no-show.
“We don’t know. Gia didn’t speak to her directly. She left a message at the last place where your grandmother knew Shelley was staying, but she hasn’t called back.”
Madison snapped her mouth closed before she said something regrettable. Don’t stir that pot.
“What if Shelley doesn’t come?” Madison’s head hammered so hard it was all she could do to keep her eyes open.
“Give her time, Madison.”
“She’s had five years.”
Darynda angled her head toward the emergency room doors. “Let’s go inside.”
“I can’t believe this.” Madison brought an index finger to her mouth and almost chewed her fingernail.
When she and her sisters first came to live in Moonglow Cove with Grammy, she’d chewed all ten fingernails to the quick. Even though the sunlight fueled her migraine, she wasn’t ready to go into the hospital. Not just yet. She needed time to collect herself before she saw Gia. Maddie was the oldest. The pacesetter.
“Are you all right?” Darynda put a hand to Madison’s forearm. “You’re shaking.”
“Just a headache.” Madison itched to pull away but didn’t.
“Little wonder. Have you eaten?”
Food was the last thing on her mind and she didn’t need Darynda turning maternal. “I’m fine.”
“You need to eat something.”
Past the black drumming in her head, she stared at Darynda. “When did you last eat?” Her words came out too harsh, but apologizing would draw attention to her rudeness.
Darynda dropped her hand to her side and tucked her lips around her teeth. “I see your point.”
A man shuffled outside, lounged against the building, and lit up a cigarette. He blew a cloud of smoke.
Madison wrinkled her nose, stifled a cough.
“We should go inside.” Darynda stuck out a hand as if to usher her. But Madison hardened her scowl and Darynda quickly dropped her hand.
Why was she being so touchy? It’s the headache, her mind offered as an excuse. But honestly, was it? She could lay her irritability at the feet of what caused the migraines.
Family tension.
Secrets.
Lies.
Self-deception.
“I’m scared,” Madison blurted, startling herself with the truth.
“It’ll be okay,” Darynda soothed.
“Will it?”
“It can be okay,” Darynda corrected, but underneath the steel of her conviction, Madison heard a catch in her voice. “If you can forgive.”
Darynda made it sound so simple. As if there wasn’t a stone wall entombing Madison’s heart, as if everyone she’d ever loved hadn’t betrayed her. Madison put a hand to her belly. She thought of the paper in her purse and let out a soft sigh. Sometimes, no matter how badly you wanted to let go, you simply couldn’t.
The wheels of her suitcase clattered as she followed Darynda through the hospital to the elevators. People turned to stare and whisper as she went past. Madison didn’t know if it was because of the noisy luggage wheels or if people recognized her from TV. In New York, where celebrity sightings were an everyday occurrence, she didn’t worry much about being approached by fans.
But this was Moonglow Cove. As they waited for the elevator, two thirtysomethings, giggling like teenagers, sidled over, pen and notebook in hand.
“May we get your autograph?” drawled the boldest one, dressed in hospital scrubs. She wore an ID badge twisted backward so Madison couldn’t see her name. “We watch your show every morning and we’re your number one fans!”
“Number one fans,” the other woman repeated.
Ahh, the price of fame. Madison heard Grammy’s laughter in her head. Suck it up, buttercup. You wanted this.
Soldiering past the migraine, Madison turned “on.” Shifting into her celebrity persona, she took the pen and notepad they offered. “Thank you so much for watching. I appreciate you more than you can know. Who should I make it out to?”
“May June,” the woman said, turning her badge around so she could read it. May June Barton, certified nursing assistant. She was tall and stocky and had a tattoo on her wrist that said House Boss, the name of Madison’s old YouTube show.
Holy crap. In her head, she flashed to Kathy Bates in Misery, spouting I am your number one fan as she crippled James Caan with a sledgehammer.
Then she heard Shelley’s witty voice in her mind whisper, Stalker adjacent. Did Shelley still love the word adjacent?
May June chattered like a spider monkey. “The hospital said I was born at eleven fifty-nine P.M. on May thirty-first, but my daddy’s watch said it was midnight, June first, and my daddy, who never admits he’s wrong, insisted his watch was right and the hospital screwed up. Hence the double name.” May June lowered her voice to a whisper. “My mama always gives me a secret present on May thirty-first, before my June first birthday party.”
“How creative of your parents,” Madison said. “And you’ll be having a birthday soon. Congrats.”
“Creativity runs in our family. That’s why we love the Create It Yourself Network,” she said. “And we love your show most of all.”