In July, Jen took a leave from work for two months and brought the kids up for days at a time, much to Lauren’s delight. Josh would give them piggyback rides and take them in the surf while the sisters sat on the beach. When Darius came up, they’d eat late—after Sebastian and Octavia were in bed—laughing and telling stories. Lauren’s mom came sometimes, too, though she had to be cajoled into making the trip. “I don’t want to intrude,” she’d say, or “You girls don’t want me there.”
Whatever. Lauren lacked the energy to convince her mother to come. Not everyone was the type to rise to an occasion, and Lauren just didn’t have the time to beg her mom to . . . mother. Donna had never really been the type who nurtured. That was her dad’s area of expertise, and unfortunately, he was dead.
Sarah and Stephanie came often, too. The Kims spent a week in July and promised to visit again. There was plenty of space, after all. Her sickness had become part of their lives, too, which made things easier. “Grab me another tank while you’re up,” Lauren might say, and Sarah would get the oxygen and attach the hose like a pro. Stephanie, who had once planned on going to medical school, would hand her the Ventolin inhaler before Lauren realized she needed it.
One day, when she and her mother-in-law were alone, opting not to go to Poit’s for mini-golf, Stephanie mentioned that once again, someone had asked her if she’d adopted Josh. “He looks like both his parents,” Steph said. “You just have to look harder to see me in there.”
“Did you love him, Steph?” Lauren asked. “Josh’s father?”
“That bum? No.” She looked at Lauren with beautiful Nordic-blue eyes. “Nope. It was a fling.”
“Did you ever look for him, or tell him about Josh?”
Steph was quiet for a minute. “I tried,” she said. “We were both students. He left for a summer program, said he’d be back before the baby came, and I never heard from him again. I emailed him; his address was defunct.” Steph sipped her water. Like her son, she didn’t drink alcohol. “After Josh was born, I stopped trying to contact him. He had my email. We weren’t hard to find.”
Lauren tried to imagine anyone turning his back on his pregnant girlfriend and just . . . vanishing. “Sounds like he was a spineless toddler.”
“There you go. We’re better off without him.”
“Do you think Josh ever wonders about him?” Lauren asked.
“He used to ask,” Stephanie said. “And I didn’t know exactly how to put it, so I just said, ‘Families come in all shapes and sizes,’ that kind of thing. We had Ben and Sumi. Ben did all those father-son things for school.”
“I love that guy,” Lauren said.
“Yeah. I think Josh liked people asking him if he was Korean when they saw him and Ben together.”
“What was the bio-dad’s background?” Josh could fall into any category—Latino, Asian, Middle Eastern, Roma . . .
“I honestly don’t think we ever talked about it. Like I said, it was maybe a five-week thing. He was from the Midwest. That’s all I remember.” If she knew more, she wasn’t saying.
“It left a mark, of course,” Stephanie continued. “The facts are the facts. Joshua’s father deserted him before he was even born. It’s part of his identity, same as being a high-functioning super-genius with Asperger’s, or autism spectrum disorder, or neurodiversity, or whatever we’re calling it these days. Those terms change so fast. Anyway, are you hungry? I’m starving. Want a grilled cheese? It’s my specialty, after all.”
The conversation was over, clearly. “Thanks, Steph. I’d love one.” Her mother-in-law did make the best grilled cheese sandwiches, using at least three types of cheese. Otherwise, she wasn’t much of a cook. Steph patted her shoulder as she went in the kitchen, and Lauren opened her notebook.
* * *
ALMOST EVERY DAY, she and Josh drove to the bay side to watch the sunset and let Pebbles splash and swim and sniff (and roll in) the carcasses of fish or birds or crabs. The house had a very convenient and huge bathroom on the ground floor, and they’d designated it for Pebbles’s baths. Josh would hose her down and shampoo her, then blow her dry (spoiled beastie), so Pebbles would be silky smooth and gorgeous and able to sleep on their bed.
Lauren took to waking up early at the Cape house and tiptoeing to the windows to watch the sunrise by herself, letting Josh sleep. She always started the coffee, because it had been her job even in childhood, when she’d get up early and measure out the grounds. Daddy would come in and act so pleased every time. “Who was so thoughtful? Lauren, sweetheart, thank you! Aren’t you the best girl ever!”
She missed her dad with a constant ache. She missed the reassurance, the comfort a good father brings a daughter. She found herself wondering about the moment of his death, if he’d had any warning, any final thoughts. She hoped it wasn’t “Oh shit, that hurts.”
Note to self: Say something profound for your last words.
Her dad felt closer these days. They had more in common now; she would die young, too. She was glad she knew. Sure, sure, a rogue bus could take her out at any moment, but being someone who liked to have a plan, she’d take a diagnosis like IPF over her father’s type of death any day.
Meanwhile, it was impossible not to love life even more on Cape Cod. Was it just the thrill of the ocean, or was her IPF on hold for a bit? She felt good. Stronger. Maybe it was the salt air. Every day, she did gentle yoga on the deck, filling her lungs, visualizing the air having plenty of room, pushing aside the fibers, filling in every available space. Some nights, she didn’t need her oxygen. She knew there was no cure for pulmonary fibrosis, but maybe . . . just maybe . . . it had slowed down.
The occasional thunderstorm made her giddy with joy, and with every flash of lightning she’d say, “Did you see that?” even though Josh was right beside her. The stars were fierce and bright on clear nights, and they could hear coyotes sometimes, or a fox yipping.
This would be a good place to die, Lauren couldn’t help thinking. This would be such a beautiful last thing to see.
One weekend in late August, Lauren sent Josh home again so she could have a proper girls’ weekend. Asmaa from the Hope Center, Mara from RISD, Louise from work, Sarah and Jen all came up to the Cape, fighting the monstrous traffic on Route 6, and stayed for five days. She had convinced Josh to stay in Providence, saying she needed some time with her girlies, assuring him that Jen would call him if she had a flare-up. They dressed up and put on makeup, then drove to Provincetown and had dinner overlooking the bay, eating lazy-man lobster, drinking fancy martinis, telling embarrassing stories about past loves and bad dates. Afterward, they saw a drag show and laughed so hard Lauren had to up her oxygen flow. Totally worth it.