“And right now? It has to be right now?”
“Yes,” Dr. Dominguez said. Her tone was soft; her eyes, cool and gray behind her glasses, gave nothing away, but her doctor was not an alarmist.
Ronnie licked her lips. “Did you—why do you think—”
“There’s a mass.” Her voice was low and steady, and Ronnie shut her eyes, thinking that this couldn’t be good.
Two hours later, Veronica was sitting in the waiting room at Hyannis Hospital. Two hours after that, she’d been admitted and was lying in a bed with an IV in her arm, pumping her full of she wasn’t entirely sure what. There was an endoscopy scheduled for later that afternoon and, in the morning, should the blood tests and the endoscopy reveal what the doctors thought they would, a consult with an oncologist.
“Is there anyone you’d like us to call?” asked the nurse.
Ronnie shook her head. “Not yet,” she said, her voice a little faint. Whatever was happening to her, whatever lay ahead, all of it could wait. She wasn’t going to spoil Ruby’s day. After the wedding, she told herself. There’d be time enough to deal with whatever was coming, to tell whoever needed to hear.
Sam
Is this a good time?” Sam asked when Sarah answered his call. It was nine thirty in the morning in Los Angeles, twelve thirty in New York. Sam had already dropped Connor off at school and put in his hour at the gym. “I wanted to ask if you’d figured out when you’re heading to the Cape?” Sam hoped he sounded casual, like a man with nothing to hide. “I’m looking at tickets, and Connor wants to know how long Dexter and Miles will be there.”
On his phone’s screen, Sarah’s glance slid sideways. “The wedding’s on Saturday. We’ll get there on Thursday. Mom’s already leaning on me to have the boys stay for a few weeks. ‘Leave them with me! I’ll take care of everything!’？” she said, imitating Ronnie’s tone. “But the boys have to be back to start their camps Monday morning. I’m trying to figure it out,” she said, and sighed. “Maybe I’ll have Eli take them back and I’ll stay with Mom for a while.”
Sam frowned. This didn’t sound normal. “Does Eli have time to do all the picking up and dropping off?” Sam had only one boy to care for, and Connor wasn’t nearly as busy as his cousins, but even soccer practice and games once a week got time-consuming.
“Eli can figure it out,” Sarah said, with uncharacteristic asperity. “He knows how to hire a sitter, same as I do.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “What’s wrong?” He looked at the screen, at the poster over his sister’s shoulder. “And where are you? Is that your office? Did you redecorate?”
Quickly, Sarah shifted the phone so that all Sam could see was her face and a blank white wall. “It’s—well. Actually, I rented a studio. The rents are super-cheap right now. Everyone left the city during the pandemic, and landlords are practically giving places away. And with Ruby and Gabe in the house, it was feeling so crowded, and I just thought…” She stopped talking and sighed deeply. Then she shook her head. “I don’t want to dump my stuff on you. You’ve got enough going on.”
“Connor and I are fine,” said Sam, who was quietly relieved that Sarah wasn’t going to ask about the length of his own stay on Cape Cod. “Dump away.”
“Things aren’t good,” Sarah said. “With Eli.”
“Hang on.” Sam carried his phone from the kitchen to the living room and took a seat on the couch. “What do you mean, ‘aren’t good’？ What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know, and he won’t tell me. He’s been tuning me out for months, ever since the pandemic started, and I thought things would get easier when he went back to work and the kids went back to school, but it’s only gotten worse.”
“Do you think—” Sam started. Then he stopped, because he wasn’t sure what to suggest. All the possibilities he could think of—Eli using drugs, Eli having an affair, Eli involved in some kind of financial scandal, Eli in trouble at work—seemed equally improbable. Rock-steady, rock-solid Eli, who’d been Sam’s role model as he’d taken on the responsibilities of being a stepfather? It was impossible to imagine him making the kind of misstep that would have Sarah sounding so glum. “What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know!” Sarah said. “I just don’t know.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I’d assume that he was having an affair, except I don’t know when he’d have time. He’s under my feet every minute of the day.” She shuddered. “I feel like I’m going crazy.”