The Forever Marriage by Ann Bauer Page B

jump up and get some food. But the alcohol had dulled her impulsiveness as well as her inhibitions.
    “I ate earlier, with Jana,” Carmen said in a dreamy voice. “We had a lot to talk about.”
    Siena scowled. Why did teenage girls assume everything was about them?
Sweetheart, you’re not the only one with secrets
, Carmen thought wistfully. But the moment passed quickly and the practical, motherly self reclaimed her body. “I needed to talk to her about your dad—Jana is the only person who understands how I really felt about him.” This was true, however misleading. So far, Carmen was negotiating the minefield well. Now the question was how to tell her children about Glenda’s phone call without implying they’d soon be orphans.
    “You’re sick.” Luca formed his words carefully this time, the way the speech therapist had taught him. And instead of sounding like a little boy he suddenly struck her as ageless and wise. She’d always loathed when other parents talked about their disabled children’s “special” connection to the spiritual. Sentimental bullshit. But she couldn’t deny what she’d taken from holding on to Luca during the funeral. Or from the intensity she felt facing him now.
    “Yes, I am,” Carmen said. “But maybe not in the way you mean.”
    “How then?” Strangely, it was Troy who’d asked—Troy who looked the most frightened and stricken.
    Carmen cleared her throat. “I have cancer.”
    “Are you
serious
?” Siena sounded not concerned but indignant, as if her mother had stolen the diagnosis from her father.
    “Breast cancer,” Carmen said, which caused Troy to look at her chest and blush bright red. “I don’t know how advanced yet. It could be very early, nothing to worry about. But I’ll be going in for appointments next week instead of going back to work. I might need some help around the house. With Michael.”
    “I’ll drive him places.” Again, Troy appeared to be the only one who was responding appropriately. Siena was sparkling with fury. Luca appeared lost in thought.
    “Thank you, sweetheart,” Carmen said. She tipped the wine bottle and poured an inch and a half into Troy’s empty water glass. He was nearly eighteen; he was sleeping with her daughter. He was, after all, acting like a man. Maybe this would bring some color back into his face.
    “Thanks.” Troy took a quick swallow—refined, even under these conditions. He was a young man of breeding; Olive would tell her to take solace in that. “When will you, uh, know?”
    “I’m going back to the clinic on Monday. I should find out more then.” Once she said it, Carmen realized what this meant. There was an entire, empty weekend to be lived before she found out how decayed her body had become. All those years, all those terrible thoughts about Jobe. They’d been cancerous.
Stop
, said a voice in her head.
Life is not a linear equation. Most events are random. This is not yours alone
. It was loud enough to startle her, and she wondered, briefly, if the children had heard.
    Carmen shoved her glass away. She should be ashamed of herself, drinking to the point of hearing things. (The nurse had been able to explain it that last time: the isolation chamber effect of the MRI.) “I think, eventually, I’ll be fine” she said, even though she didn’t quite believe it.
    She looked around the table. Luca was staring at her, no longer elsewhere, his small eyes glittering with concern. Troy had taken Siena’s hand, which he held on top of the table, and her expression had softened. She was again that stubborn child, bewildered by her own immoderate emotions. Like mother like daughter, Carmenthought. Like father like son. And the room began to recede until she could make out only what existed in their small island of light.
    Carmen lay in bed weary, her body faded and grateful not to be holding itself up any longer, but unable to sleep. Something had changed inside her that day, like the small pointer on