Miss Lucy barked, then climbed into his lap and lay down.
Mama Dee rushed over and sat where Miss Lucy had been. She squeezed Paul around the shoulders and leaned her head next to his. “We love you, buddy, and you have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Absolutely nothing.” Mom Rachel came over and sat by Paul’s legs, resting her head on his knees.
Abby squished in closer. She loved her family so much, even if it felt like they were breaking apart. No matter how much they loved Paul and no matter what they did, they couldn’t keep him from having to go through this. The only thing they could do was stay beside him during all of it no matter how hard it was to bear.
* * *
Later at Mom Rachel’s request, Paul ate a total of one spring roll for dinner. No duck sauce.
Exactly nine minutes later, he ran to the bathroom and vomited it back up.
Mom Rachel put her head in her hands. “I shouldn’t have…”
Abby stood behind her mom and massaged her shoulders. “It’s not your fault.” She felt more like the parent than the kid. “It’s the medicine’s fault.”
Mom Rachel reached up and patted one of Abby’s hands.
“He’ll be okay, Rach,” Mama Dee said.
Mom Rachel nodded but didn’t lift her head.
Abby helped her moms with the quick cleanup from dinner, then went to her room.
Even with her bedroom door closed, she could hear Paul vomiting and both moms in there with him, murmuring soft words. Abby imagined them rubbing his back and telling him he’d be okay soon.
“Cancer is hard,” she told Fudge.
Fudge solemnly sat on his rock in complete agreement, Abby was sure.
Needing a place for the feelings swirling inside her, Abby pulled out the journal from Cat, ran her fingers over the cover, opened to a fresh page, and wrote.
Before and After
One day my brother said, “I have cancer.”
With those words—that one word—
Oxygen left the room
Sound
Molecules
And then came back, forever rearranged.
Nothing has been the same since.
There is only before… and after.
A New Year
A week later on New Year’s Eve, Abby sat with her moms in the living room.
Paul was in his room with Ethan. Every once in a while, Abby heard banjo music coming from the room. And laughter.
“Here’s to a better year ahead.” Mama Dee raised her glass of champagne.
“Hear, hear.” Mom Rachel raised her glass.
Abby raised her glass too, because the moms said she could toast the new year with a tiny bit of champagne.
They all clinked glasses.
“Paul should be out here with us,” Abby said.
“Ah, let’s let him have time with his friend,” Mom Rachel said. “He gets enough of us.”
Abby wasn’t sure what her mom meant by that.
“Yeah,” Mama Dee said. “That boy should be out with his friends doing fun stuff, and instead he’s stuck in the house or the hospital all the time, feeling rotten.”
Mom Rachel raised her glass. “Here’s to Ethan… for showing up and taking Paul’s mind off things.”
“To Ethan,” Mama Dee said. “And we hope that Jake gets a splinter the size of Kentucky stuck in his tuchus on the same day he gets a zit the size of Alaska on his nose.”
“Dee!” Mom Rachel laughed, then covered her mouth.
“What? I used ‘tuchus’ right. Didn’t I?”
“You did,” Mom Rachel said. “You’re bad.”
“And proud of it!”
Everyone laughed.
Abby sipped her champagne, and the bubbles made her want to sneeze. She did not like the taste but drank the small amount her mom poured for her anyway. She didn’t get why adults liked to drink alcohol. It tasted gross.
Later in her room, Abby texted Cat, even though she knew it was too late for her to answer.
I still miss you.
A few minutes later, a text came through.
What are you doing?
It was from Conrad.
Nothing.
He replied immediately.
Can you come out front for one minute?
Abby held the phone out and looked at it.
Why?
She waited, but there was no reply. Abby checked the time. It was 11:58 p.m.
When she went out to the living room, she saw that her moms had fallen asleep with Miss Lucy between them. It was really cute.
Abby opened the front door.
“What?” Mom Rachel had woken and opened one eye. “Where are you going?”
“Right out front. I’ll be back in one second.” Abby closed the door behind her before her mom could say anything else.
“Oh!” Abby startled.
Conrad stood in front of her on the porch. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” But the way he was smiling, Abby thought maybe he was pleased with himself for startling her.
Abby moved from foot to foot. It was chilly out, and she hadn’t thought to throw on a jacket. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
“Surprises can be good. Right?”
Abby tilted her head. “Um… right.”
Conrad looked at his watch. “I just wanted to wish you a happy new year.”
They both stood there.
He checked his watch again. “It’s midnight.”
Conrad stepped forward and kissed Abby.
His lips were soft and warm, and his breath smelled minty.
“Happy New Year, Abigail Braverman. I can’t wait for our perfect date on Valentine’s Day.” Then Conrad ran back home.
Abby’s lips tingled. She touched her fingertip to them, wondering if the feeling was from the champagne earlier or from Conrad’s kiss. She was pretty sure it was from the kiss. She didn’t even get a chance to wish Conrad a happy new year because he ran away so fast.
Someone down the street was banging pots and pans and shouting, “Happy New Year!”
Fireworks went off in the distance.
When Abby turned to go back in, the door was wide open. Her two moms were standing there, grinning.
Abby was grinning too.
She hugged them both and went back to her room, lay in her bed, and watched Fudge swim around his tank.
Abby had a lot to think about.
She’d had her first New Year’s kiss.
It was perfect.
Maybe it would be a good year, after all.
Round Four: Emergency!
A few days later, Paul and the moms planned to leave early for Paul’s fourth and final chemo treatment at the hospital.
Abby had set her alarm so she could see them off.
When Abby had asked if she could go to the hospital with them, Mama Dee said, “You have to go to school. One kid in this house missing tons of school is more than enough. Thank you very much.”
“Absolutely,” Mom Rachel agreed. “You can visit your brother after school.”
When Abby woke the morning of Paul’s final treatment, it was dark outside, and the frogs in the canal were still croaking their nighttime chorus.
Abby shuffled to the kitchen, where Mama Dee slurped coffee from her favorite mug—a blue ceramic one she got when she and Mom Rachel took a vacation a couple years ago to a bed-and-breakfast in New Hope, Pennsylvania. Mom Rachel was packing a small cooler bag with snacks. Miss Lucy lay curled up in her bed in the corner of the great room, snoring softly. Paul sat on a stool at the counter, his head on his hands. He wore the crocheted turtle hat over his bald head, which Abby thought made him look silly. And sweet.
Abby put her palm on her brother’s bent back. She could feel his spine protruding because he’d lost so much weight. “Last one,” Abby said in the most enthusiastic voice she could manage this early in the morning.
“Mm-hmm,” Paul answered with all the energy of a stale potato chip.
Abby held the back car door open for Paul.
He slid onto the seat, buckled his seat belt, and let out a sad sigh.
Abby leaned in, gave her brother an awkward hug, handed him an envelope with a poem she’d written earlier, and whispered in his ear, “You’ve got this, Paul. I love you.”
Miss Lucy barked.
“The princess loves you too,” Abby said.
He looked up and gave his sister a half smile.
Abby knew it was the most he could offer, and it would have to be enough. She wished Paul were stronger, but Abby would have to muster her courage and be strong enough for both of them for now.
As Abby watched her family drive down the street, gentle strands of pink laced through the dark sky, like wispy signs of hope.
* * *
Back inside, Abby made herself a fruit salad with slivered almonds sprinkled on top and a mug of chai with coconut milk for breakfast. She fed Miss Lucy some smelly wet food in her fancy dish. Miss Lucy thanked her by thumping her tail over and over again. “You’re welcome, girl.” Abby pet Miss Lucy’s silky ears. “You’re doing a good job of looking out for Paul.”
Miss Lucy responded by peeing on the floor.
“Yeah.” Abby cleaned up the mess, and while waiting for Conrad to pick her up for school, Abby wrote a poem in her journal.
Endings and Beginnings
The end.
Because one story ends
Doesn’t mean another doesn’t begin.
This ending is really…
Paul’s beginning.
His new life without cancer. (I hope.)
His happily-ever-after. (I hope.)
His new story, filled with promise. (I hope.)
Once upon a time…
Abby was sitting at the back of the room in language arts class when it happened.
Ms. Petroccia was reading the last chapters of Bridge to Terabithia. She’d been reading a few chapters every day near the end of each class.
Abby loved being read to. It was much more satisfying to lose herself in the world of a story than to be forced to do group projects with her classmates, who were not her friends.
While Ms. Petroccia read, a couple boys had their heads resting on their arms on their desks. Abby wondered if they were listening intently or sleeping. Miranda and Laura looked like they were hiding their cell phones behind their desks. Probably texting each other instead of paying attention to the beautiful story.
Their loss, Abby thought. Bridge to Terabithia was becoming a favorite book, like Charlotte’s Web, which Paul had read to her when she was younger.
Abby listened to Ms. Petroccia read about Jess and Leslie and their friendship, which made her miss Cat. But it also made Abby think about Conrad and how glad she was that they’d become friends… and a bit more than friends.
The sadness of the story had caught Abby by surprise. She wasn’t ready for what happened to Leslie. Abby didn’t mean to, but as Ms. Petroccia read, Abby’s shoulders hitched. She cried out loud with one great, gulping sob. It was so embarrassing, but Abby couldn’t stop sobbing. The story had also made her think about Paul and everything they’d been going through. It reminded her that people die—even young people.
Abby wished she were a turtle and had a shell to hide inside, but she was just a girl, her deepest emotions exposed right there in class.
Kids turned to look at her, to see where the choking, gasping, sobbing sounds were coming from.
A few boys lifted their heads from their desks.
One boy chuckled.
It’s not funny! Abby wanted to scream.
“So sensitive!” Miranda said, waving her hand dismissively at Abby.
“Yeah,” Laura said. “It’s just a story, Abby. Get it together.”
Abby faced the front and took a shaky breath. She wasn’t crying anymore. She was focusing on Ms. Petroccia. And she could hardly believe what she was witnessing. Ms. Petroccia was up there crying too. Her teacher wiped her cheeks with a tissue and closed the book. “I read this story to my classes every year, and still it makes me cry. It’s that powerful.”
Abby looked around the class. Turns out, she wasn’t the only one sniffling, crying, and wiping at her eyes. Plenty of her classmates were crying and tearing up too.
Not Miranda and Laura, but many others.
Kyle Baxter leaned over and said to Miranda and Laura, “I think Abby is just the right amount of sensitive. That was a super sad story.” And he blew his nose into a tissue.
Abby sat a little taller. She let Kyle’s words roll around in her mind. I think Abby is just the right amount of sensitive. Abby had never thought of being sensitive as an asset. She’d never thought you could be the right amount of sensitive. But maybe you could. Maybe she was. Perhaps her sensitivity made her a more empathetic and understanding person when someone was going through a hard thing. Maybe it made her a better friend, daughter… sister.
* * *
“Hey, Six-Pack,” Paul said from his seat at the dining room table as soon as Abby walked into the house after school.
She stumbled backward. “What… what… are you doing home?”
Paul tipped his baseball cap—the one with the squirrel and acorns. “I escaped from the hospital.”
“You what?!” Abby dropped her backpack and joined him at the table, accidentally bumping Miss Lucy—who was under the table—with her foot. “That dog sticks to you like glue.”
Paul smiled. “She’s a good dog.”
“He’s kidding about escaping from the hospital,” Mom Rachel called from the kitchen.
“I’m kidding,” Paul said. “The real story is much more boring. My cell counts were too low to get the chemo. So I’m home instead.”
Abby got excited. “Does this mean you don’t have to get any more chemo?”
Paul’s hopeful look deflated. “I wish. It means I have to wait until my cell counts come back up to get my fourth and final round. And I’m going to save that envelope you gave me until then.”
“Oh.” Abby felt the disappointment in her gut.
Mom Rachel called out from the kitchen, “And he has to get a shot every day for a week to help his cell counts climb back up.”
“Don’t remind me.” Paul rubbed his upper arm.
“Hey!” Mom Rachel called. “Either of you knuckleheads want to help me make a Lettuce Eat video?”
Paul shook his head. “I’d scare away viewers looking like this,” he called to Mom Rachel.
“Oh, Paul!”
Then he leaned toward Abby and whispered, “You should help her, Six-Pack.”
Abby shook her head. “I want to, but I’m not brave like you.”
Paul leveled her with a stare. “I’m not brave, Six-Pack. I’m scared to death most of the time.”
Abby was shocked. “But look at what you’re going through. That takes courage.”
“Nope.” Paul adjusted his cap. “Didn’t really have a choice, so that’s not courage. Being brave is when you’re scared to do something but you choose to do it anyway because you know it’s the right thing to do.”
Abby thought about that. It’s when you’re scared to do something but you choose to do it anyway because you know it’s the right thing to do.
When Abby heard, “Welcome to Lettuce Eat. Today we’re going to make a delicious vegan sweet potato and black bean chili,” Abby got up. She walked into the kitchen. “Sorry for interrupting, Mom.”
Mom Rachel turned off the recording. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I can restart it. What do you need?”
“I want to help.” She glanced into the other room and saw Paul give her a double thumbs-up. “I mean… if that’s okay.”
“Okay?” Mom Rachel squeezed Abby for all she was worth. “That would be wonderful.”
Abby ran her fingers through her hair and pulled her shoulders back. “I’m ready.”
Abby looked right into the camera and waved. “Hi! I’m Abby, and I’m so glad to be here with you today. Ready, Mom?”
“Ready, Abs!”
Abby helped her mom make the meal and even managed to sneak in a joke or two, like Paul would do. Abby couldn’t wait to tell Cat. And Conrad. And when the video came out, she’d try not to pick out all the things she felt like she did wrong. She’d let it be exactly what it was—Abby being imperfectly, perfectly brave. And if some of the viewers didn’t like it, that was their problem. Not hers.
* * *
Paul’s cell counts had climbed high enough that he was able to get his chemotherapy the Monday of the following week. His final treatment. The hardest one.
On the third night Paul was in the hospital, Abby went with Mama Dee to visit him.
Paul was sleeping with the light on and the TV playing. Abby noticed the poem she’d given him in the envelope lying open on his table.
World’s Best Brother
Paul, when I was younger,
You read me Charlotte’s Web
And cried at the end,
Which let me know it was okay
For me to cry too.
You made me French toast
And took me to the movies
When Cat left for Israel,
Which let me know
You’d always be there for me.
You went through difficult
Surgery and treatment for cancer,
Which showed me what strength looks like
And how I can be brave by facing hard things.
You also make me laugh
And smile
And feel better about myself.
Not everyone gets a terrific brother like you.
Not everyone can say their brother is a friend.
Abby, Tried and True Page 14