Page 14 of Worship Me (Men of Inked 7)
“I’ll kiss them after we have dinner.”
My ma had been cooking Sunday dinner for longer than I could actually remember. I didn’t remember a time where she didn’t cook for the entire family. Even after she broke a bone or two—we won’t get into how that happened because I’m still traumatized—she still slaved away over the stove to put on a spread that would rival any Italian restaurant in the country.
Suzy sat at the island, tearing the already-washed lettuce into smaller pieces and tossing them into a bowl that was bigger than her head. Mia stirred the sauce, making sure it didn’t burn because there was nothing that made the men in our family grumpier than a few black flakes in their gravy. Max cut the few loaves of Italian bread into thick, meaty slices. And I took the lasagnas out of the oven so they could cool enough to be cut without falling apart.
As the family grew, the meals had gotten larger. Instead of cooking for a dozen people, now there were so many kids and additions that my parents’ kitchen was almost at capacity. If we had a few more kids, Ma would have to buy another oven to prep everything and get it on the table at the same time.
“Mar, come sit with me. Let’s talk about tomorrow,” Aunt Fran said before sipping her glass of red wine next to Suzy.
Fran was the watchdog of the group. She was the worst cook… Yes, even worse than Suzy, and that was saying something. I always thought they should test her DNA or revoke her Italian card because there was no way that shit couldn’t just rub off on her. But somehow, it didn’t. The only person in the family who could stomach her food was Bear, and that was because he wanted to keep her happy.
Ma smiled at my aunt and finally decided to sit because we had this down to a science. How could we not after over fifteen years of cooking this obscene feast?
“What time are you picking me up?” Ma grabbed the bottle of wine and poured herself a hefty glass.
“Let’s say eleven.”
Suzy grunted as she tore the heart of the lettuce head apart and threw it in the bowl like it had somehow offended her. “Where are you ladies going?”
“I have some tests at the hospital.”
Dead fucking silence. All stirring stopped. All chatter evaporated. All movement ended. Every set of eyes in the room focused solely on my mother.
“For what?” I clutched my chest and tried to steady my breathing.
My mother had always been as healthy as a horse. But every year, I’d seen the time wearing on her as she got a few more wrinkles and a couple more gray hairs. I knew that time was ticking and that every day with my parents was a gift, but I was not ready for anything to happen to them. I didn’t know if I’d ever be.
“Just some routine tests. Mammogram and all that jazz.”
I slid my eyes to Mia because, as the doctor in the family, she could call bullshit faster than me, but I needed to get more information. “And you need a ride for that?”
“Well, no.” She lifted the wineglass to her lips and took a giant sip, letting the alcohol sit on her tongue so she didn’t have to speak.
“For fuck’s sake, Mar. Just tell them. They’re not kids.”
That was the point where my heart dropped. My mother was being shady, not wanting to answer the questions, and Aunt Fran’s comment that we weren’t kids told me it was bad.
“Fine,” Ma snarled at Fran, showing her anger that her secret was out. “The doctor wants me to have a biopsy on a spot they saw on my mammogram. It’s really no big deal, and chances are it’s nothing.”
I stumbled backward. The weight of her words hit me like a sledgehammer. “Do they think you have cancer?” It was a dumb question. They wouldn’t be sending her for a biopsy for anything else, but it felt so foreign it was the only thing that came to mind.
“It’s just routine. We’re trying to rule out cancer. You know how these things are. As we age, weird shit grows. It’s probably benign.”
“Cancer?” I asked again like I was stuck on stupid. I was, though. It was the last thing I thought I’d hear today. It wasn’t where I thought they were going when I heard them chatting about tomorrow earlier. I figured the two of them were going to Nordstrom’s to do some damage to their credit cards. Never in my wildest and darkest nightmares did I think they were making a date to go to the hospital to check my ma for cancer.
My hands shook and my lungs felt tight, like a giant weight had been placed on my chest. I blinked twice, staring at my mother, and felt tears filling my eyes.
Mia placed her hand on my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “It’s okay, Izzy. Most of the time, the biopsy comes back benign.”
I glanced at Mia as I wiped my eyes. “Did you hear what you said? Most of the time.”
“Was the spot they saw large, Ma?” Mia asked, ignoring my special kind of crazy.
“No, it was smaller than a dime. Even if it is cancer, it’s small enough that they can cut it out, and they have some fancy pill now instead of regular chemotherapy.”
Ma talked about the entire biopsy cancer thing like she was chitchatting about a nail appointment, not like the life-altering test that it very well could be.
“That’s good. They’ve come a long way with the treatments. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Mia gripped my shoulder tighter and spun me around. “In the other room. Now.”
I nodded slowly, stalking toward the dining room with Mia right on my heels.
“You need to calm the fuck down, girl. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” Mia’s brown hair swayed as she talked, waving her arms around between us. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Mia,” I whispered and looked back toward the kitchen. “Cancer.”
She placed both hands on my shoulders and stared
me straight in the eyes. “At her age, there are plenty of treatments. Cancer isn’t usually as aggressive in the senior population. As we age, everything slows down in the body, including cancer. Your mom is now in her early seventies, Izzy, and she’s the perfect candidate for the chemo pill. This is all only if she has cancer. It’s most likely nothing.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
“Don’t freak out until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
There was nothing scarier than that fucking word. I thought I was pretty badass and could knee-kick any fucker that tried to cross me, but I felt completely helpless to do anything when it came to this. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do except wait and see what happened.
“Ladies,” Ma said, coming into the room behind me with a smile on her face. Always being the cheerful one of the family and the glue that kept us all intact. “I promise to tell you everything. Izzy, you can come with me to the appointment when I meet with the doctor in a week to go over the results.”
“A week?” I groaned. I’d have to live with the fear of not knowing if my mother had cancer for a solid week. That was seven days of pure torture.
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around me from behind and nuzzled her face in my neck. “I’m a tough old bird, baby. Don’t cash me out already.”
There was only one chick I knew that was tougher than me, and it was my ma. I was every bit her daughter. I thanked God every day that she raised me to be a strong, independent woman instead of a meek and mild mouse who let men walk over her.
I pressed my head against hers and reached up, placing my hand on her arm. I wished I could freeze our lives at this point in time. I didn’t want to get older. I didn’t want my parents to get any older either. I loved life just as it was and didn’t want a damn thing to change. “I’d like to be there for you, Ma.”
“You can.” She kissed my cheek, lingering a little longer than usual and smelling me like she did when I was a kid. I’d always thought it was odd until I had kids of my own and caught myself smelling them a little too often to be normal. “Now, let’s not talk anymore about this. I want today to be like every other Sunday. No bringing this up to the boys either.”
I loved that she still called them boys even though they were men. Everybody in the room was over forty, but she refused to think of them as anything other than kids. “I promise, Ma.”
“Let’s finish dinner and get it on the table before all hell breaks loose.”
I tried to be normal. God, how I tried as we placed all the food on the table and served the Gallo army. As I glanced around the dining room, noticing the smiling faces, I wondered how different everything would be without this. Without the dinner. Without my parents. Without all of it.
James squeezed my leg under the table. “Doll, what’s wrong?” he whispered in my ear, tickling me with his whiskers.
I plastered a smile on my face and stabbed my fork into the seven-layer lasagna that had so much stuff in it I wondered how it stayed upright. “Nothing, babe.”
His grip tightened because I couldn’t pull off a fake smile to save my life. “You look like you lost your best friend.”
“Everything’s fine. We’ll talk about it later,” I said before shoving a slice of the cheesy noodle goodness into my mouth, basically ending the conversation. But James kept his hand firmly planted on my knee.
If something happened to my ma, I would lose my best friend. Although I was a daddy’s girl to the core, my ma had always been my tether to the important things in life. She didn’t spoil me with false compliments or give in to my whims. She forced me to be who I was and made no apologies along the way.
“How’s the shop?” Pop asked like he did every Sunday.
“Good. Busier than ever. We’re actually talking about hiring someone new,” Mike said between mouthfuls of lasagna.
I cringed because that news hadn’t gone over so well last night, and I was sure no one had bothered to talk about it, thinking I’d put an end to it before the ball started rolling.
“Izzy set up an interview with the girl for next week,” Mike said, without realizing every female in the room besides me and my ma had stopped eating and were glaring at him.
“Oh, she did, did she?” Max stabbed at her meatball, snarling at me as she spoke. “What’s her name?”
“Kat.” Mike snapped his fingers, forgetting her name for the fiftieth time since I’d brought him the portfolio. “East.”
