Page 10 of Spit Screen

My laughing slowly subsides, and I sigh—again.

“Em? Come on; we always land on our feet—all of us. Tell me about this project Addison has dreamed up.”

“Mom? Mom!”

I flinch slightly at the decibel of Vicki’s voice. “What?”

Vicki looks at me with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “Are you sick?”

“What? No. Why do you ask that?”

“You’re quiet.”

I smile at Vicki and pat the cushion beside me, directing her to sit next to me on the couch. I tried my best to hide my fear from the kids when I learned about my cancer and the required surgery. Addison and I sat Vicki and Hannah down for a long, gentle talk to explain the situation and reassure them everything would be okay. Fortunately, Hannah is still in a stage where she trusts what we say. Vicki may project bravado, but deep down, she is incredibly sensitive, especially when it comes to my feelings. Looking back, I realize I had retreated into myself during those weeks. Not that I wanted to distance myself from my family; I needed time alone to come to terms with the realityof my diagnosis. On the other hand, Addy copes by staying busy and attempting to fix things. I prefer having space and quiet to process my thoughts and emotions.

“I’m sorry, Vicki,” I say.

“I can help.”

I feel tears gathering in my eyes. It’s bittersweet—watching your children grow. Vicki still possesses a youthful innocence, but little by little, I can see how her innocence transforms into awareness. There are days when I see a hint of the woman she will become. That might sound ridiculous to some people. Vicki will be nine in less than a month. She’s always enjoyed being with adults—both listening to our conversations and offering us her assessments. It’s been both amusing and frustrating. If there are “old souls” who walk the earth, Victoria is one of them.

“I know you can help,” I reply. “I’m not sick, sweetheart. I promise.”

Vicki frowns.

“Vicki,” I begin cautiously. “Everyone is okay. I was just reading something Momma wrote. I guess I was a little engrossed in it when you came into the room.”

I pause, giving Vicki a chance to respond. As always, she's analyzing me, trying to read my emotions. It's hard to predict what career path Vicki might choose. She has a natural intuition. Addy and my mother often say she reminds them of me. We both experience emotions intensely, which is one reason I love acting—it allows me to connect with other people's feelings. But I can't walk into a room and immediately sense another person's emotions like Vicki can.

Vicki shakes her head. “Mom,” she says somewhat sternly. “Something is bothering you.Ican tell.”

My lips curl into a genuine smile. “No, honey. I’m just trying to figure something out.”

“About what Momma wrote?”

“About what to do with what Momma wrote.”

“Is it another movie?” Vicki asks.

“No. I suppose it could be.”

“Is it for you?”

“I’m not sure. A lot of people could play the role she’s created.”

Vicki rolls her eyes. “It’s for you.”

I laugh. “Probably.”

“Don’t you want to do it?”

I sigh.

“Oh,” Vicki says.

“Oh? What’s oh mean?”

“You don’t want to leave to do it.”

---