“Ah, yes. The infamous Windrift cougars. Not for me, thanks.” He narrowed his eyes. “I think some of those women are friends with Kathryn and Barb.”
“Sounds about right.”
He looked back at Lizzie. “You’re much more my type.”
“Which is . . . ?”
“Smart. Witty. Cute. Interesting. You get the idea.”
“No, keep talking. I’d love to hear more.”
He half-smiled and took a last sip of his beer. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“And go . . . ?”
“I don’t know. Anywhere. I’d say my place, but my place is your place, so . . .”
“I’d suggest my car, but it’s technically my mom’s car, so . . .”
They looked at each other and smiled. Lizzie was trying to play it cool, but she had butterflies in her stomach. She hadn’t openly flirted with someone like this in a long time, and it felt good. The fact that she was very attracted to Nate certainly helped.
“There’s always the beach,” Nate said.
Lizzie gulped down the rest of her wine, snatched up her purse, and slid off the barstool. “Well then,” she said, leaving a generous tip on the counter. “Shall we?”
* * *
The sex was good. Better than good, actually. Lizzie might have gone so far as to say it was pretty spectacular, the involvement of sand aside. The whole escapade felt like the premise for a juicy romance novel: millionaire’s stepson sleeps with the cook—on the beach, no less!—and scandal ensues. Lizzie made up the scandal part, though she was pretty sure Jim and Kathryn wouldn’t approve, especially after the stealing allegations. Then again, they seemed to disapprove of nearly everything Nate did, so maybe they’d view his tryst with the help with little more than apathy. Yet another poor decision by Nate. Quelle surprise.
Lizzie gazed up at the stars as Nate ran his thumb across her bare stomach. “So did you really meet up with that professor woman,” she asked, “or was that just a story to get me to come out so that you could sleep with me?”
“How dare you,” Nate said. He didn’t actually sound angry.
“ ‘How dare you’ as in ‘That couldn’t be further from the truth’ or ‘How did you see through my ingenious plan?’ ”
“Couldn’t it be somewhere in the middle?”
“Like?”
“Like, yes, I did actually meet up with her, but I also wanted to spend time with you in a venue that wasn’t my dad’s house or a hospital.”
She ran her fingers through the sand, which felt deliciously cool against her skin. “I like it here,” she said.
“On the beach?”
“In Avalon. There’s something kind of magical about it.”
“I know. I always feel like the rest of the world is on pause while I’m here.”
“I wish I could work here year round. Not necessarily for your family, but maybe someone else in Avalon.”
“Nah, in a couple of months, this place will be a ghost town. Almost everything shuts down. Part of what makes it special is that it comes alive for only a few months each year.”
“And then it fades away, like everything else.”
Nate turned his head to look at Lizzie. “Thanks, Debbie Downer.”
“What’s true is true.”
Nate grabbed her arm and pulled her on top of him. He reached up and kissed her, and she kissed him back, gently at first and then more intensely. She felt him get hard as she pressed her hips into his. He ran his hands down her exposed back and slid his thumbs inside the lining of her underwear, lowering it in one swift movement. It was less awkward this time than the first, when they’d fumbled in the dark—her for his belt and fly, him for her shirt and bra. Then there was excitement and anticipation, but there was also the self-consciousness that comes with first-time sex. Would she embarrass herself? Would he come too soon? But those nerves had been supplanted by lusty desire. Lizzie wanted to wrap her legs around him again and scream into the still night air.
As he pulled her into him, her wild thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing. It had rung twice more since they’d left the Windrift, but Lizzie had refused to see who it was. Now she began to worry. Was it her dad again? Because if so, she should pick up. He had never called this many times in a row. She looked toward her bag and felt herself tense up.
Nate followed her stare. “You okay?”
“My phone . . .” She trailed off.
“If you need to pick up, go ahead.” She could tell he didn’t mean it. He was still hard and held her close.
“I just . . . it might be my dad, and it’s really unlike him to call this many times. This is more times than he’s called this year, total.”
“You should take it then.”
He groaned as she rolled off and crawled toward her purse. She fished around for her phone, but by the time she found it, she’d missed the call.
“Oh,” she said as she stared at the screen. “It was my aunt Linda.”
She unlocked her phone and saw that the previous two calls had been from Linda, too. In some ways, that was even odder than having her dad call. She was close with Linda, but not so close that they regularly called each other to catch up. The only times they spoke on the phone was for birthdays. Lizzie’s birthday had been in March. Linda’s was in October.
“Do you need to call her back?” Nate asked.
“I don’t know.”
Her phone chimed with a voice mail. Lizzie held the phone to her ear and listened.
“Hi, Lizzie . . . it’s your aunt Linda. Listen, I know your dad has been trying to get in touch with you. Could you give him a ring as soon as you can? There’s something we—he needs to talk to you about. Okay? All right. I hope everything is going okay with the Silvesters. Just . . . give your dad a call, okay?”
She pulled the phone away and scrolled down to her dad’s voice mail, which he’d left several hours earlier.
“Lizzie, it’s Dad. Could you call me as soon as you get this? I need to talk to you about your mom. She’s . . . well, I’ll tell you when we talk, but I’m worried about her. I know you’re probably busy with work and everything, but it’s kind of important, so . . . yeah. Just call me. Doesn’t matter what time. I’ll pick up.”
Lizzie sat frozen with the phone pressed against her ear. She suddenly felt queasy.
Nate crawled up behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
Was it? She tried to downplay the situation with a, Yeah, sure, it’s nothing. Just my family being dysfunctional, as usual, but she couldn’t. It was more than that this time. She never doubted that her dad still cared about her mom, even after the divorce. They’d gone through so much together—marriage, parenthood, the death of a child. Even if sadness and bitterness had overtaken all of the other emotions, some semblance of solicitude lurked beneath the surface. But to whatever extent her dad might worry about her mom, Lizzie had trouble imagining a scenario that would require her own involvement, unless it was something really bad.
She replayed Nate’s question in her mind: Is everything okay?
“No,” she finally said, because now she was absolutely certain that it wasn’t.
CHAPTER 30
Lizzie was too anxious to wait until she got back to the Silvesters’ house, so she called her dad from the beach. She stood in front of the dunes while Nate stood at the edge of the water, looking over his shoulder every so often.
Her dad picked up after the first ring. “Lizzie?”
“Dad—hey. What’s going on?”
He hesitated. “It’s your mom. She’s . . .”
Lizzie braced herself. She’d always feared a call like this. Had there been an accident? She felt her throat close up. She could barely speak. “She’s what? What happened? Is she okay?”
“She’s . . . well, she’s okay right now, I guess. Technically speaking. It’s just . . .” He trailed off.
She could tell he was having tro
uble, but she was losing patience. “It’s just what? Jesus, Dad. You’re freaking me out. Just tell me.”
“She has cancer.”
For a second, Lizzie stopped breathing. She crumpled to the ground, her hand over her mouth. She felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “Cancer . . . ?” Her voice cracked. “What kind?”
“Breast. They caught it early. But it’s an aggressive type. Triple negative or something like that.”
“When did she find out?”
“Sometime in early June.”
“June?” A sharp pain tore through Lizzie’s chest. “It’s the middle of July. When was she planning to tell me?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t told anyone, other than me and Linda and . . . whatever you want to call him. Gary.”
“So she told Gary, but not me?”
Lizzie’s initial shock and sadness began to morph into anger. After everything they’d been through together, how could her mom keep her daughter in the dark? Did she honestly think Lizzie wouldn’t find out eventually? The fact that her mom had told Gary first felt like a slap in the face. She had only known him a few months. He probably didn’t even know her favorite brand of chocolate (Ghirardelli) or her favorite musical artist (Joni Mitchell) or the fact that she hated the color peach. Did he even know about Ryan? Maybe, but even if Gary knew the story, he didn’t know. Not the way Lizzie did.
“How could she?” Lizzie growled through clenched teeth.
“Well, now, to be fair, it’s her disease. She can tell and not tell whomever she wants.”
“If that’s the case, why are you calling to tell me? She obviously didn’t want me to know.”
“The thing is, she’s made a few choices about her treatment that . . . well, I’m not sure she’s thinking straight. I’m a little worried about her.”
“Why? What is she doing?”
“It’s mostly what she’s not doing. After your mom called to tell me about the diagnosis, I called Linda to say I was sorry to hear the news and was willing to help out if she needed some support. That’s when Linda told me there wasn’t really much to help with. The doctor recommended chemo after the lumpectomy, but your mom decided she didn’t want to do that.”
“She had a lumpectomy?” Lizzie felt dazed. Her mom had gone through surgery and hadn’t said a word. What else was she hiding?
“She did. And from what Linda said, they got the cancer with clear margins. But it was an aggressive type, and apparently recent studies have shown chemo works really well in making sure the cancer doesn’t come back. But you know how your mom is about doctors and medical treatments since Ryan died. So instead she’s doing some sort of ‘natural’ alternative thing Gary put her on to.”
“What do you mean ‘natural’?”
“I don’t know. Something about juices and coffee. Linda mentioned ‘chelation therapy’ as well. It all sounds like hocus-pocus to me.”
“Is she seeing a doctor? Or is she doing this all on her own?”
“Linda says she’s seeing a doctor, but we both agree he sounds like a quack. He’s into something called Demuth therapy. That’s where all the raw juice and coffee stuff is coming from. You should see some of the sites Linda has pointed me to. One more dubious than the last. The Cure Within. Heal Yourself Healthy. The Clean Life. I can’t believe your mom has bought into all this nonsense.”
Lizzie’s heart nearly leaped into her throat. “The Clean Life?”
“Yeah, I should send you the link. Don’t get me wrong—it’s a beautiful site. They all are. But do I really think these people have been cured by drinking a few smoothies? Sorry, I’m not buying it.”
“But Mom is.” Lizzie felt sick.
“Oh, yeah. I wouldn’t care if she were doing this on top of treatments that have actually been proven to work, but she isn’t. She’s convinced these alternatives are just as good. That’s why I’m calling. I need you to talk to her.”
“Me? I’m not even supposed to know she’s sick. What about you and Linda?”
“We’ve tried, and we’ve gotten nowhere. I’m the asshole ex-husband, and Linda . . . well, I guess there’s a bunch of sister history I’m not a part of. But she’ll listen to you. She always listens to you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would. The thought of adding to your stress—that’s like her worst nightmare. The whole reason she didn’t want to tell you about her cancer was because she didn’t want to worry you. If you talk to her and tell her you are worried, but only because she’s headed down a fool’s path, she might change her mind.”
Lizzie glanced over her shoulder and saw Nate staring at her as he kicked at a seashell. She wondered how much he’d heard. She turned back toward the dunes, her dad’s plea echoing in her mind. Rationally, she knew it was her mother’s right to refuse a treatment she didn’t want. And yet, even if that were the end of the story, Lizzie would have trouble accepting her mom’s decision. Lizzie doubted she’d be able to allow her mom to let go without a fight. But that wasn’t what was happening. She was putting up a fight, but she was doing so with counterfeit weapons. If she truly wanted to live, if she wanted the absolute best shot that the cancer wouldn’t come back, then she shouldn’t be following the advice on Zoe’s site.
“Okay, I’ll talk to her,” Lizzie said.
“I knew I could count on you.”
It was the nicest thing he’d said to her in a long time. Lizzie only hoped she wouldn’t let him down.
* * *
Dozens of questions raced through Lizzie’s mind as she gathered up her belongings. What was her mom thinking? Did she really believe the information on Zoe’s site? And what, specifically, could Lizzie say to change her mind?
From what Lizzie’s dad had said, Zoe’s site wasn’t the only one her mom had visited. Even if she proved Zoe’s story about Marie was bogus, Lizzie could already hear her mom’s retort: Why would other sites recommend the same sorts of treatments? Are you suggesting they’re all in cahoots? Lizzie wasn’t sure how she’d counter that argument, other than to say lots of people believed things that weren’t true. She worried that wouldn’t be enough to sway her mom. Even if she tossed out historical examples, she somehow doubted bringing up Magellan and Galileo would make her case more appealing.
It doesn’t matter, said a voice in her head, and she knew it was right. She needed to call her mom right away.
The phone rang a few times before going to voice mail. Lizzie left a message:
“Hi, Mom. It’s Lizzie. I just talked to Dad. I’m worried about you. Could you please call me back? There’s something you should know about these sites you’re visiting about your treatment. I think you’ll see you’re making a big mistake. It’s a long story, but it’s really important that I talk to you. I’ll be up for a while tonight and then early tomorrow, so call whenever. Just . . . please don’t believe everything you read, okay? I love you.”
She hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. She’d braced herself for an emotionally fraught conversation, replete with tears and yelling, and now that she’d gotten away with a voice mail she felt as if a weight had been lifted. She knew a voice mail wasn’t enough. The tense conversation she’d dreaded needed to happen, and soon. But after the emotional roller coaster of the past two days—an ER visit, cheating accusations, sex, cancer—she needed a moment to catch her breath. She knew she was being selfish, but at the moment she couldn’t help herself.
“You okay?”
Nate appeared beside her. For a moment, she’d forgotten he was there.
“Not really,” she said.
“Anything I can do?”
“I don’t know. I’m still trying to process everything.”
He reached out and held her hand. She could tell he wasn’t sure what to do, and she didn’t blame him.
“It’s my mom,” she finally said. “She’s sick. Cancer.”
“I’m so sorry.” He squeezed her hand.
“They caught it
early, but instead of doing chemo like the doctor suggested, she’s using so-called natural treatments with the help of her new boyfriend.”
“Natural?”
“Like the stuff on Zoe’s site. Zoe’s site happens to be one of her favorites. Perfect, right?”
Nate stared back at her. She couldn’t place his expression. It was a mix of worry, fear, and guilt. “What are you going to do?”
“My dad wants me to talk to my mom. He says she’ll listen to me. I’m not sure that’s true, but I figure if I tell her what I know about Zoe, then I can at least sow a seed of doubt about what she’s doing.”
“How long has it been?”
“Since she found out? Or since she’s been following Zoe’s site?”
“Both.”
“Apparently she was diagnosed in June, but I have no idea how long the juices and coffee enemas have been going on. A few days? A week? Longer? My dad was fuzzy on the details and time line.”
“How long does she . . . I mean is there a window for . . . does she need . . .”
Lizzie knew what he was trying to say and understood why he was having trouble saying it. “You mean how much time does she have?”
“Sort of. Yeah.”
“Honestly? I don’t know. They cut out the lump, but apparently it was an aggressive cancer, so I’m not really sure what that means if she doesn’t do chemo. Will it come back? And if it does, will it be worse? Part of me feels like she dodged a bullet by catching it early, but now . . .”
“You should call her.”
“I did. It went to voice mail.”
“Oh. Do you think she’ll call you back?”
“Tonight?”
“At all.”
“Of course. She wouldn’t just . . . ignore me.”
But even as she said the words, she wondered if they were true. Wasn’t that exactly what her mom had been doing ever since her diagnosis? Until tonight, Lizzie figured she’d been busy. With what, Lizzie wasn’t sure, but then Lizzie was so busy with the Silvesters that she didn’t have much time to think about it. Now she knew why, and she wondered if her mom would shut her out in the same way she’d shut out Lizzie’s dad and Linda.
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