Page 67 of Before the Storm

Cindy furrowed her brow and wiped her hands on her pants. “Are you sure you want to know what happened to him?”

Josie’s heart seized.Is this another person I have to say goodbye to?

Instead, Cindy said, “Based on what I gleaned on Facebook, Philip started his own sailing company and goes all the way around the world on expeditions. He’s been married four times, but he has no children. His base is the Canary Islands, which are over in Africa.” Cindy shook her head. “He was always such a beautiful mystery to me. A little like you, Josie.”

Josie searched her heart for some sense that she needed to reach out to her real father. But the truth was, he’d never been anything to her. He’d been a ghost in her mother’s past.

She had to celebrate what she had right here in Nantucket.

So she said, “I don’t need him anyway.”

Cindy let out a small sob. “We need each other, though, don’t we?” She searched Josie’s face, and Josie knew she was looking for signs that she wanted to fight.

Josie bowed her head. A tear drifted down her cheek. “We need each other. We really do.”

That was that.

Six Months Later

It was August and a glorious sun-dappled day that forced all four Steiner women to forget dreary afternoons in rainy Seattle or snow-capped winters in Nantucket. Draped beneath an enormous umbrella on the beach, Josie sat in her bikini and watched the baby sleep in the shade, feeling protective and proud. Winnie, Tara, and Cindy swam out in the water, hollering, splashing, and whipping their hair around. Josie touched her head nervously, grateful she’d grown nearly an inch of fluff since she ceased treatment. Soon, if she stayed in remission, her locks would grow back, curly and luscious. She’d begun looking at Pinterest haircut ideas, praying she made it far enough to try a new hairstyle.

Dr. Franklin had made it clear at her last appointment, though. “You took to the treatment remarkably. You’re cancer-free. We’ll check back yearly, but all signs point to permanent remission.”

After everything she’d been through, this was often difficult for Josie to believe.

Tara burst from the water first and hurried over to the umbrella, squeezing water from her hair. Recently, she’d taken up yoga, and her arms and legs were sleek and muscular and shining in the sun.

“How are you two doing?” she asked quietly, sitting gingerly on the other side of the baby and gazing down at her.

“We’re doing just fine,” Josie breathed.

“She’s a dream, isn’t she?” Tara cooed. “Our darling Hazel.”

Josie’s heart swelled as Hazel kicked her little feet and moved her fists around. For over an hour, she’d been asleep, but all four of the Steiner women knew she was fitful and that she wouldn’t nap for long. Josie had begun to think of herself as a grandmother, just as much of a grandmother as Tara, and Winnie and Tara took to that in stride, calling Josie “Grandma Josie” and Tara “Grandma Tara.” Cindy was called “Great-grandma,” of course, and just the sound of it often made Cindy cry. She’d explained this to Josie just once. “When your father died, I thought I’d be alone forever. But I’ve been given a tremendous gift.”

They all had.

But it hadn’t been easy. In the wake of beginning treatment again, Josie had signed up for grief therapy sessions with Stephanie to wade through the events of her life and make peace with herself. It was remarkable to learn that although Josie was quite good at forgiving her mother, her fake father, her real father, Tara, Winnie, and Joe, she’d struggled to forgive herself. Stephanie said this was typical of people who suffered from abandonment. “You tried to make sense of what happened; you tried to make sense of why your father was cruel. And you invented a reason that wasn’t rooted in reality.”

Josie told Tara that often, Stephanie is too smart for her own good. And Tara agreed. But remarkably, in early July, Tara decided to stop going to Stephanie altogether. “I’ve been going to grief therapy for many years,” Tara admitted. “I’ve worked through every problem. Now, it’s up to me to figure out how to handle myself day-to-day. In a way, that’s what Stephanie has been trying to prepare me for all along.”

Obviously, the baby helped stitch their lives back together.

When Hazel was born in May, Josie was at the tail-end of her treatment and praying she would live to see Hazel grow up. Due to her recovery and her susceptibility to disease, it was too dangerous for her to go to the labor and delivery ward, so Tara, Cindy, and Winnie sent her photos and videos and called her with updates throughout. But Josie spent the entire time weeping—both from joy and fear.

Josie often thought her urgent desire to live was the greatest reason she survived. It didn’t happen for everyone. People fought cancer and died all the time.

She’d tried. And she’d lived for now.

She planned to live really well after this.

Now, Tara rifled through the cooler to pull out two cans of La Croix, one for Josie and one for herself. Josie popped it open and raised it to the bright blue sky. Out in the water, Winnie and Cindy were circling each other and chatting about something.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Josie asked.

“Beats me,” Tara said.

“They’ve really built a wonderful relationship,” Josie said softly.

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