Page 63 of Part of Forever
“Hello,” I say into the phone.
“Oh, good, Rosie. I’m so glad you picked up,” Mom says, concern lacing her voice.
“Yeah?”
“Two things,” she says. “First, Doctor Barker called. She said that something abnormal came back with your bloodwork, something they missed before.”
My heart sinks. “Okay,” is all I can manage to say.
“Are you sitting?” Mom asks next. “Because there’s more.”
“No.”
“You probably should,” she says gently. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard her sound so—so caring. That scares me more than anything.
“Okay,” I tell her, but remain standing.
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she says. “But Doctor Barker said that Lucy’s parents wanted her to tell us that Lucy passed last night.”
The whole world goes fuzzy, like all the air has been sucked into a vacuum. My head spins.
“But I just talked to her yesterday morning. We were going to have lunch in her room on Sunday,” I say, in shock.
“I know, sweetie.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“A little. I spoke with Doctor Barker and then with Lucy’s mom for a moment. They were in surgery, trying to remove the tumor—” Mom says, but I interrupt.
“But they said that they couldn’t do that, that trying that would kill her.” I’m vaguely aware that I’m bordering on hysteria. Nathan’s face materializes in front of mine, but I shake my head and turn away, walking closer to the dark water.
“I know, Rosie, but her mom said she was having too manyseizures and they had to try it,” Mom says. “She knew the risks. Her mom said she’ll let me know about the funeral once the arrangements have been made.”
“Why would they do the surgery?” I scream into the phone. “They knew it could kill her.”
“Oh, Rosie,” Mom says, and I want to throw my phone in the ocean. Lucy can’t be dead. She was the only friend who sort of understood what I was going through, and she was supposed to answer my questions.
“Thanks for telling me,” I say, suddenly angry. I hang up before she can say anything else, folding my arms tightly against my chest, as if that will fix everything.
“Rosie?” I hear my twin ask tentatively.
“What?” I snap.
“What did Mom say?” His voice is soothing and gentle, but that only makes the tears come faster and harder.
“Lucy’s gone,” I cry. I’m still processing the part about the abnormality, and I won’t share anything until we know for sure. But Lucy is gone; I start to shake and I’m startled when arms come around me. I feel Tucker’s warm body behind mine.
“Who’s Lucy?” I’m not sure if he’s asking me or Nathan, but I can’t find the words to respond.
“A girl that Rosie met during group therapy,” Nathan tells him.
“Therapy?” Tucker asks like it’s the first time he’s heard about it, because it is the first time he’s heard about it. I told him about the tumor, but never told him about therapy. Probably because I wasn’t sure what I’d say, because I didn’t know what I was feeling about everything we talked about in therapy and with Lucy.
“Cancer therapy,” I whisper, then turn to look at him.
His eyes grow wide with concern. “You didn’t tell me about therapy. ”
“I had a tumor,” I say, tears still falling down my face, but now I’m not sure they’re all still for Lucy.
