Page 66 of Before the Storm

Nantucket Island

Josie wasn’t ready to tell Tara she was waffling on her decision to cease treatment. She couldn’t afford to get Tara’s hopes up only to smash them to bits; she couldn’t afford to be so cruel in what might prove to be her final months. This was the reason that Josie asked Cindy rather than Tara to drive her to the hospital. Her mother owed her, after all. And she could keep a secret. She’d kept many from Tara and Josie for twenty-four years.

Cindy was nevertheless nervous. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

“No. I need to do this on my own,” Josie told her, squeezing her mother’s hand.

Josie crept into the doctor’s office, sat on the white table, and waited for three minutes before the pretty Dr. Addison Franklin came in, bringing a wave of soul-affirming perfume.

What would it be like never to smell anything wonderful like that again?Josie thought, then smiled. Ever since Winnie’s return, she’d felt passionate about everything from the sunrise to baked goods to snowfall to rain. It was clear her brain was looking for reasons to keep her alive.

Was that proof she’d already made up her mind?

“Good morning, Ms. Steiner,” Dr. Franklin said. “It’s good to see you again.”

Josie was surprised that Dr. Franklin didn’t shame her for the weeks between visits. After all, she’d suggested that every month that passed decreased the efficacy of the treatment plan by ten percent.

But Josie had needed that time to think. She’d needed that time to heal—emotionally.

“I need you to tell me everything about the treatment plan. I need to know the risks. I need to know what it will do to me. And I don’t want you to mince words. My sister isn’t here today. I can take it.”

Dr. Franklin’s eyes echoed respect, both for Josie and for her situation. She folded her hands. “Like I told you before, it’s an experimental treatment plan,” Dr. Franklin explained. “Patients have suggested it’s comparable to chemotherapy in that it brings similar levels of exhaustion, pain, and hair loss. But we’ve seen remarkable results that far outweigh chemotherapy at large. I wish we could bring this treatment plan to every cancer patient in the world.”

Josie’s heart swelled. Slowly, she shifted her eyes to her hands and felt the beating of her heart, a heart that had been confident and strong for forty-five years.

Absentmindedly, she wondered where on earth her father, Philip, was. Could he sense her suffering? Did he ever wonder about her?

“I’m terrified of all that pain. I’m terrified of not being able to think clearly or get out of bed or do anything but wait for my body to heal,” Josie said. “But I want to be strong for my family. I want to keep fighting.”

Dr. Franklin set her jaw. “You’re very brave, Ms. Steiner. I appreciate you giving me and the treatment a chance.”

There was a light in Dr. Franklin’s eyes that gave Josie an extra smidgeon of hope.

Maybe it was foolish to put herself through this. But right now, she had so much to live for. She was worlds away from that apartment in Manhattan, worlds away from two ex-stepdaughters who never called. Joe was a part of her past; Donnie was gone; her father was dead. All Josie could do was focus on the present and the future tense. All she could do was open her heart to change.

“Let’s set up the first treatment as soon as possible,” Dr. Franklin urged, twisting in her chair to look at her desktop, where she pulled up a calendar to look at her schedule. “How about as early as Monday morning?”

Josie was terrified. But she couldn’t turn back from this decision. She couldn’t throw herself into the dark abyss that was death without another round.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

She hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

When Josie left the office, she found a jittery Cindy standing in the hallway with her eyes on the window. Josie had a strange suspicion that she was talking to Bob. Maybe she always was.

“How did it go?” Cindy asked, her voice overly chipper, as though Josie had just taken her SAT. (Of course, she hadn’t taken the SAT because she hadn’t been allowed to go to college or hadn’t been pushed to go to college. But all that was in the past, now. It had to be.)

Josie leaned against the wall and took a breath. She would have to practice telling all of them—Cindy, Winnie, and her mother. She would have to practice telling everyone, including herself, that she wanted to live.

But right now, she pitched another question, one that was heavy on her mind.

“Where is Philip?”

Cindy’s cheeks went slack. In her eyes, Josie searched for any remaining love Cindy had for her long-lost father. Maybe a glimmer was still there.

“I still can’t believe he didn’t reach out to you when he had the chance,” Cindy offered finally.

Apparently, Tara had told their mother that Philip never reached out that winter of 2001—the year he’d threatened to.

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