Page 59 of All That Lies Between Us

“I would appreciate it if you could find the time today,” she says, causing my eyebrows to fly up my forehead. “School starts in less than two weeks. It would be so embarrassing to keep adjusting myself in the middle of class.”

“Yeah, uh-huh. Got it,” I dismiss teasingly.

Lord, help me for the teenage years. I am not ready.

“Not to mention, I want to get rid of these gorilla legs before the first day,” she adds.

“I’ll be sure to bring it up to her today,” I promise.

Seemingly appeased with my response, she continues to mix her batter before pulling out her bright purple skillet. With care, she starts the gas burner and covers it with non-stick spray. It’s probably odd that a ten-year-old has her very own skillet, but she loves to cook and had been begging for her own cookware for quite a while. Of course my parents—especially my mother—went overboard, buying everything she could possibly need.

“Did you take your medicine?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes at me, faking annoyance that I even bothered to ask, but she nods anyway. “I had a banana with it.”

“What do you have planned with Pops and Nana today?” I ask.

“Library. Park. Lunch. Nails.” She holds up a finger with each word and then shakes them around as she finishes.

“Sounds like a big day.”

“Oh, it will be,” she says seriously, stopping halfway to the stove to run her hand under the faucet and sprinkle the water onto the skillet like rain. The skillet crackles and sputters, alerting her that it’s ready for the batter.

She delicately pours the batter, then takes a step back, eyes trained on the pancakes as the bubbles slowly pop to the surface, while I get to work making a pot of coffee. When it’s finally dripping, I turn to rest against the counter, pulling my phone back out of my pocket and scrolling to my recent call log. I call Emily and wait for the ringing to hit my ear, praying she answers this time.

Just as the phone goes to voicemail, I hear the front door open, and Emily’s voice rings out. “I’m home! And I’ve got company.”

Taking a deep breath, I drop the phone to the counter and cross my arms in front of my chest. I try to appear stern, even as relief washes over me.

“Hi, Mom. We’re making pancakes!” Willow says excitedly.

“Oh, those smell good,” Emily replies, stepping into the room and looking directly at me.

I plaster a fake smile on my face and raise my eyebrows at her in question.As soon as Addison comes into view, my smile drops, my eyes shifting between the two women.

What. The. Fuck.

Emily looks terrible. I’ve seen her look worse over the years—especially during chemo, when her hair was falling out in chunks, and she could barely stand without throwing up. Once she decided to stop treatment altogether, there was a short period when she looked like herself again, but time is already slipping out from under us, and her once sparkling eyes are now hollow and tired.

Addison stands slightly behind Emily, almost as if she’s trying to hide, but there is no hiding her. She’s radiant, captivating. I keep telling myself to look away, but I’m worried she’ll disappear right in front of me if I’m not careful. She’s already done it once before.

“Are you hungry?” Emily asks, turning back to Addison.

She nods in response, then turns to me with a tentative smile and a small wave.

“She loves pancakes,” I say.

Emily looks between the two of us, a smile tugging at her lips. Despite the action, I notice how strained and tight her cheeks look.“Then she’ll fit right in here,” Emily responds. At a snail’s pace, she makes her way to the stove before dropping a kiss to the top of Willow’s head and wrapping her arms around her. “Good morning, baby.”

“Emily, maybe you should go lie down,” I tell her gruffly. Even to my own ears, my tone sounds harsh, but it’s hard to fake happiness when the walls are caving in around you. I’d just rather not have Willow witnessing her mother collapsing in the middle of our kitchen, and right now, she looks like a simple gust of wind would do just that.

She halts her movements and stares hard at me, her eyes telling me exactly what she thinks I should do with my suggestion.

Mad. She’s definitely mad.

With Willow and Addison in the room, I choose to pick my battles and let it go for now. I turn to look back at Addison, needing the reminder that she is, in fact, standing in front of me. We stay locked in a stalemate for a few seconds, neither of us knowing what to say or do next. Questions are sprinting through my mind, but I can’t grasp any of them to set them free.

Finally, I ask her the most unimportant one of all. “Want some coffee?” For Willow’s sake, I try my best to sound relaxed, even as a host of emotions roll through me. Addison nods again, so I tip my head down to the table between us. “Have a seat.”

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