Page 29 of Every Chance After

“Wow, you’ve outdone yourself. I will gobble this all up. Well, except the fern—Frilly Willie will come home with me in a few days.”

Cora beams. “Oh, Marnie, you are handling everything so well. I love your glowing optimism.”

No choice.“Thanks, Cora.”

She settles into Ashe’s chair, but not before unbuttoning the jacket to her striped, black pantsuit and setting her Louis Vuitton bag at the end of my bed. “Ashe tells us you made great progress yesterday.”

I automatically eye the whiteboard Ivy updated this morning.

More Moving & Grooving(Walking)

Clean Your Plate(eat a full meal)

Bye Bye IV(self-explanatory)

Tame Your Cane(practice using a cane)

Snooze-Fest(get good sleep)

“Yes, everything’s functioning properly and healing well. It’s just a matter of mobility and energy now.”

“Excellent. You’ve never been one to be down for long,” she says. “Women like us can’t let that happen, huh?”

“Right.”Women like us?I almost do a giddy clap and an exuberantwoot-wootover her lumping us together into a strong-capable-women sandwich, as equal and important as meat and cheese. But I keep my cool. A light shrug makes my shoulders ache. “Um, where’s Ashe? Sleeping in?”

Her red-lipped smile takes a sudden detour. She straightens the wrinkles in her pants with a brisk swipe. “No, Marnie. There’s no easy way to explain this, but you love Ashe, so I know you’ll understand.”

My heart drops like an untethered elevator crashing to the bottom floor. “Understand what?”

“I put him on the plane to Jamaica an hour ago, he and Tyler,” she says, locking eyes with me in that painfully direct way she does that reads:I’m Cora the Conquerer. Never question me or my power.

“I don’t understand.”

“He’s put up a good front for you, Marnie, but he’s a mess. He needs to get away, clear his head. He didn’t want to go, but I insisted. So, if you’re upset, it should be withme. Nothim.”

“I’m not upset.” And I’m not. I twiddle my engagement ring around my finger, feeling sad, disappointed, not surprised.More people to disappoint you.“Nonrefundable tickets. I get it.”

“Yes, but that’s not why. It’s for his mental health, Marnie. That’s why I told him to go.”

“He seemed fine yesterday,” I argue lightly, offended by how quickly she plays the mental health card. It’s not that I don’t buy it—mental health is as important, if notmoreimportant, than physical health, and anyone can be struck by such difficulties at any time, like bold and debilitating lightning bolts. I know that better than most people.

But Ashe has never been to therapy, never known the throes of a panic attack or agonized over getting out of bed. He’s never known a bad day. And I was once privy to a discussion between him and his mom over “acceptable uses” of paid time off, and they both agreed that mental health “didn’t count.”

I argued until we reached a rare compromise, calling all leave personal time off, no matter the reason. And, whatever the case, the employee should not be required to explain.

“For you, he’s fine. But he isn’t. At home, he’s different. You understand how much he wanted this.”

Her words hang there like dangling hooks, baiting me. Latching on would mean pointing out that he’s not the only one grieving, asking why he isn’thimselfwith me, and debating the obvious cruelty of his leaving. How could he abandon me like this, barely able to walk or eat or even breathe? After he promised?

But that’s what people close to me do. They abandon.

And getting upset isn’t a reaction I can afford.

“Yes, I know.” It feels like the moment I came out of surgery, trapped by cords and bedding, confused and hurting. So, I react in a way Cora understands. “You surprise me, putting him on a plane with me here. Aren’t you concerned about… what was the word you used when we discussed putting Wren on the floor?Optics?”

Her red lips widen. “You always think about the family. I love that about you.”

“I don’t want anyone thinking badly of Ashe for leaving.”

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