Page 137 of Remember Us This Way

I picture her falling deeper into makeup and having a glamorous life, maybe becoming a makeup artist for runway shows or a stylist. She loves that stuff, and I hope that whatever she chooses to do with her life, it’s rewarding, and she gets to smile every day.

Hazel gets distracted, and her recap of her latest crush somehow turns into a story about some girl named Molly who’s apparently a nasty, hoity-toity cow simply for also having a crush on the walking red flag. Then just as I go to give her all the advice in the world about the company we keep, a soft knock sounds at the door, and I glance up, finding Mom. “Do you girls feel like going for a drive?” she asks, her gaze lingering on me, her smile brighter than I’ve seen in weeks.

I smile right back at her, making the most of all the time we have left. “Can we get ice cream?”

“OH!” Hazel cheers, scrambling up onto her knees. “Yes! With choc-chips?”

Mom rolls her eyes. “Fine, but we need to sneak,” she says. “I don’t want your dad to know we’re getting ice cream without him.”

“HELL YEAH!” Hazel cheers, throwing herself off my bed and racing to her room to get dressed. It’s been another long day, but after my private prom night with Noah last night, I’ve opted to stay in bed for most of the day, and apparently Hazel classified today as a pajama party for the ages. But she was more than ready to bail on our pajama party the second ice cream was mentioned. I suppose loyalty only goes as far as her stomach.

Mom strides into my room and offers me her hand. “Come on, my sweet girl,” she says. “Let’s get you dressed.”

She helps me out of bed, and the second my feet touch the ground, she places her arm around my waist, taking my weight as we walk, not that there’s much weight left to carry. I’m getting slimmer by the day. I’ve had to borrow Hazel’s shorts because mine keep falling off.

Mom walks me into my closet and picks out a nice dress before helping me into it. “How are you feeling today?”

I shrug my shoulders, not willing to lie to her. “It’s getting harder,” I whisper. “I’m tired.”

“Oh honey,” she says, drawing me into her arms and holding me tight. “I know it is, and as much as it kills me to see you going through this, knowing that I’m going to have to say goodbye, you can celebrate that it’s almost the end because once you reach it, a whole new adventure will be waiting on the other side. There won’t be any more pain. No more doctors and hospital beds. You’ll be free to run. And when my time finally comes, and I see you in heaven, I’m going to run right into your arms and hold you while you tell me all about the grand adventures you’ve been having.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I bury my face into her shoulder. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

“We’ll never be ready,” she tells me, her hand gently roaming up and down my back. “Now, what do you say we sneak out of here before your father figures out I’ve kidnapped you?”

“I don’t think it counts as kidnapping when you’re my mom.”

She gives me a wicked smirk. “For today, let’s pretend it does.”

As if on cue, Hazel barges back into my room ready to go, complaining about us taking so long. Apparently, even after three servings of spaghetti and meatballs, she’s so starving she could eat a cow. Only then she mentions that the cow might just be named Molly.

Taking my time down the stairs, we make our way out of the house, and before I know it, I’m buckled into the front of Mom’s car. We start driving toward the creamery and are halfway there when Mom turns to me. “Where’s Noah today? He disappeared this afternoon.”

My gaze lingers on the street, watching the world as we pass. “One of the seniors on his team had a baby this past weekend, so Coach Sanderson is hosting a full team baby-pushing party in the spirit of team bonding. He should be back in the next hour or so.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” she says. “But tell me Coach Sanderson didn’t actually call it a baby-pushing party?”

I laugh, a smirk pulling at the corner of my lips. “I honestly don’t know,” I tell her. “That’s just what Noah said when he got the message this morning.”

“You know what? I’ve been with your father for over twenty-five years, and I’m still completely baffled by the opposite sex.”

Hazel scoffs from the backseat. “Don’t worry, Mom. I know everything there is to know about them,” she says. “I’ll walk you through it.”

Mom and I both roll our eyes, and the rest of the way to the creamery, we listen to Hazel’s long, drawn-out explanations of how a man’s brain works, and honestly, I think she’s got it down. Maybe I won’t need to worry about her as much as I thought I would.

Choosing the right flavor is the biggest challenge I’ve ever had to face, and considering the two failed rounds of chemotherapy, that’s a strong statement to make. I mean . . . okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit. Nothing is worse than chemo, especially that second round. That shit was brutal. Just the thought of it sends chills down my spine.

I end up with a strawberry and white chocolate swirl on a cone, and as we wander back to the car, Mom takes a deep breath, breathing in the warm evening. “Perhaps we should drive down to the lake and eat our ice cream there? Have you ever been there at night?”

I scoff as we reach the car and get back in. “Mom, I’ve not only been there at night, but I’ve been wildly drunk and partying like nobody’s business there at night, and well into the morning, too.”

She gapes at me, her jaw dropping. “You’ve done what?”

I laugh and bat my eyelashes. “You think that’s bad?” I say. “Did I ever tell you about the night Hope and I snuck out and shared a joint? Noah had to carry my ass home. I couldn’t see straight for days.”

“What’s a joint?” Hazel asks from the backseat.

I laugh a little harder, having to clutch my stomach when it starts to hurt.

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