Taz shrugs her shoulders. “Not sure she’ll go for that, not with Mom and Dad coming. I already tried to get her to let me give her only the first dose, but she refuses.”
“Let me call,” I insist. “If I can get them to pop in after nine, the kids will be in bed and we can make sure Mom and Dad have left.”
Taz nods, setting the glasses and a plate with cheese, crackers, and grapes on a tray before carrying it inside, while I quickly call to arrange for a nurse to visit tonight.
“She hardly ate at all.”
Sarah pins Taz, who’s putting plates into the dishwasher, with a glare the moment she walks into the kitchen after putting the kids to bed.
From the moment Ed and Sarah showed, the tension had been thick enough to cut. Dinner had been a rather quiet affair, with Sarah and Spencer doing most of the talking. Sofie had been quietly observant, as had her grandpa. Nicky had a hard time keeping her eyes open, and Taz looked like she was trying hard to be invisible while keeping a close eye on her sister.
Some of the tension had lifted while Sarah took the children upstairs. With both Ed and Nicky dozing off side by side on the couch, I’d followed Taz in here to help clean up.
Taz quietly continues to load the dishwasher with Sarah’s eyes boring a hole in her back.
“Mom,” I quietly draw her attention. “Eating takes a lot of her energy. It’s no use trying to force-feed her.”
“Don’t say that,” she snaps, the eyes she turns on me fearful.
“Please, Mom,” Taz pleads with her. “Don’t waste precious time on things that don’t matter.”
Before Sarah has a chance to respond, Taz slips out of the kitchen.
“Come on.” I put my arm around Sarah’s slumped shoulders and guide her inside, where Taz perches on the armrest at her sister’s side, kissing the top of her head before whispering something in her ear. A soft smile appears on Nicky’s lips as she blinks her eyes open.
“How about a nightcap for the road?”
Ed’s eyes shoot open at my offer. “You still have that Glenfiddich?”
“As much as you left in the bottle last time.” I grin at him. “Mom? You want something? A glass of port?”
“Half,” she says, sitting down in one of the club chairs, her eyes on her daughters.
“Taz? Baileys?” I offer, remembering that, like her older sister, she used to love the stuff over ice.
“If you have some, please.”
By the time I have the drinks handed out and sit down, Ed is holding court, regaling old stories in his raspy voice even I have heard many times before. It doesn’t matter, it feels familiar, and from the look on Nicky’s face, it’s clear she’s enjoying the trips down memory lane.
“What are you doing?” Sarah’s voice is suddenly sharp over her husband’s mellow drone. She pushes out of her chair, her eyes on Taz who’s lifting her glass to Nicky’s lips. “She can’t have alcohol with her medications.” In two steps she covers the distance and reaches out, snatching the glass from Taz’s hand. “Are you trying to kill her?”
A sharp gasp from Taz’s lips is the only sound before a deadly silence falls in the room. Ed is the first one to break it.
“Uncalled for, Sarah,” he snaps in a firmer tone than we’re used to from him.
“Mom,” Nicky manages, her hand seeking out Taz’s empty one. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters,” her mother responds, agony twisting her features as she sets the glass on the table and wraps her arms around herself.
“Mom,” Nicky repeats. “I’m dying. I can feel it, and I hate how hard this is for everyone. I’m gathering moments at this point. Sights, sounds, touches, and tastes, to take with me. It’s all I’ll be able to take when I leave soon.”
Chapter Five
Taz
“Are you awake?”
I am. I haven’t slept yet. It seems like every new day leaves more to process and my tired brain can’t seem to stop churning on every word, thought, and feeling.
Nicky had fallen asleep soon after Chantal, the palliative care nurse, placed a subcutaneous cannula in her upper arm and administered her first dose of morphine. The port in her upper arm would stay there until no longer necessary.
“You okay?” I whisper into the dark room, reaching for the table lamp next to the couch.
“Yeah. Leave the light off?”
I pull my hand back and roll on my side to face her. I can see her eyes shimmer from the hospital bed. “Need me to get you something?” I hear a slight rustle as she shakes her head.
“I’m going to talk to him tomorrow,” Nicky whispers. “I should’ve done it a long time ago.”
I don’t need to guess she’s referring to the last blowout fight she and I had five years ago. Nicky had been eight months pregnant with Spencer at the time.
When Sofie was born three years prior, I’d missed it. In fact, I hadn’t had any contact with my family until I came back from a vaccination run in Nigeria, when I received an email from Kathleen telling me I’d become an aunt. I may not have spoken with my family, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love them. I’ve always loved them, regardless of our fucked-up dynamic. Kathleen had no problem providing me with any updates over the years. Eminence is a small town, anything of any significance happens and the whole town knows within twenty-four hours.
I started thinking—some time after Sofie was born—maybe I was cutting off my nose to spite my face. I’d been hiding out on the other side of the world, not giving my family a chance to bridge the gap. So when I heard from Kathleen my sister was pregnant again, I thought perhaps it was time to swallow my pride and take the first step.
My welcome then was only moderately warmer than the one I received this time, and I had to exercise a healthy dose of restraint when dealing with my mother. I mostly avoided her and Rafe, but was able to reconnect with my dad and my sister. It was short-lived.
Then one night—Rafe was out on a call—Nicky and I were hanging out watching a movie when she suddenly burst out crying. She’d been unhappy for a while and confessed she’d indulged in a brief fling with her chiropractor in Mountain View. She was afraid the baby could be his.
I lost it on her. She had the perfect life, the perfect husband, and she’d risked it all. Ugly words flew on both sides. She accused me of jealousy, which prompted me to fire back that she didn’t deserve a man like Rafe. Of course that’s all he heard when he walked in the door.
He was livid, but all I could see was the plea in my sister’s eyes. He said some hurtful things before showing me the door, telling me to get the fuck out of their lives, and I went. I never even tried to defend myself, because it would’ve meant throwing my sister under the bus.
I never returned after that.
“Spencer is his spitting image,” I tell her with a wistful smile.
“I know. I’ve always been the lucky one, haven’t I? At least until now.”
“Honey…” I slide out from under the quilt and make my way to the hospital bed. “Scoot over.”