“Cancer?” Cade asks in a whisper.
Hank turns to his oldest son and nods.
It’s like the floor drops out from under me. I picture what my mom was like when she left my dad and know she’d be a thousand times worse if she lost Hank.
“Prostate cancer, which is a highly treatable form of cancer,” Mom says and pats Hank’s knee. “He’s going to get through this. You don’t have to worry.”
“But… I don’t…” Xavier sputters. “Did they catch it early then?”
The quietness in a room that’s usually filled with chaos when we’re all together feels alien and tells everyone how serious this is. There’s a good chance he’ll be fine, that he’ll come out on the other side all right. But I’m not naive enough to think it’s a guarantee. There’s a family out there somewhere whose doctor told them they’d beat it and they didn’t. There are too many what-ifs.
“What can we do?” Mandi asks.
“A meal train,” Nikki says.
“We can all take turns visiting Dad. Taking him to radiation and back.”
Everyone throws out fix-it ideas and Mom addresses each one. All of us want to take the burden off of Mom, pitch in and help where we can.
“No!” Hank yells into the fray.
All the commotion stops, and we look at Hank.
“We don’t need anyone’s help. I’ll be fine. I am fine. You continue on with your lives. I’ve told Marla to continue with the mayoral race, and I want each and every one of you to do the same. Presley doesn’t need to be making me any meals while she’s eight months pregnant or being around me after I’ve had radiation. My grandchildren will not see me weak.” He stands and leaves the room.
My mom drops her head and covers her face with her hands for a moment before standing. “Excuse me, everyone. Just give me a moment.”
I rise from my chair and follow my mom.
“Posey, maybe you should give her a sec,” Nikki says.
“Why? She should know she’s not in this alone.”
Nikki blows out a breath, and I leave my siblings to make sure my mom is okay.
I find her in the living room, and I grab a box of tissues, passing one to her. “It’ll be okay.”
She nods, blotting her eyes. “I know, but I need to tell you something.” She looks up and her eyes are red-rimmed with tears still streaking down her cheeks. “I’m taking myself out of the race.”
“But Hank said—”
She shakes her head. “Sweetie, Hank is way more important than being mayor. All of you are. My family comes first. Gavin will make a good mayor.” She pats my knee.
“But…”
She inhales deeply. “Thank you for all your help. I’ve had a lot of fun with you these weeks.” She pats my knee, stands, and leaves the room.
That’s it. She’s just going to give up on her own happiness. Well, I’m not.
A knock sounds on my door and I open it to find Posey there. She rushes into my arms, tears spilling from her eyes.
“Whoa, baby, are you okay?” Fuck, I had high hopes that it was good news. One of her siblings having a baby or maybe an anniversary trip or something.
“Hank…” She wails and her tears wet my shirt.
“Hank what?” I rub her back.
She pulls away and wipes her eyes. “He’s sick. Cancer.”
My stomach drops. “Fuck,” I say, running a hand through my hair.
She walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge. I follow her.
“Prostate. They say he’s going to be okay, but no one can guarantee that.” She turns to me. “Do you have any alcohol here?”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Shit. Sorry, stupid question.”
“We can go out if you want?” I’m not a fan of covering up your feelings with alcohol, but I have to remember that others can manage it better than I ever could.
“No, it’s fine. My mom is going to pull herself from the election.”
From her tone, I gather that she’s pissed. “Why would she do that?”
It feels weird to ask, given that I’ll be the benefactor if she does.
She shakes her head. “I mean, I understand. Hank is sick, and it’s horrible and I’m upset too. But this is something she’s wanted for a long time.”
“Maybe she feels like her attention needs to be on Hank right now.”
She glares at me. “There are enough of us that it’s not necessary. She’s sacrificing her own happiness when we can all help out.”
Shit, I didn’t see that coming. “Don’t you think Hank is her happiness?”
She shoots me a glare. “I know that. Hank’s her life, but last time she let a man get in the way of her happiness, he left her. What if…?”
“What if what?” Please tell me she isn’t going where I think she is.
“Things don’t always go as planned. What if something happens to Hank and then she just gave up and she’s left with nothing again?”
Okay, we’re going down this road.
I take her hand and lead her to the other room, where I sit her down on the couch. “Posey, take a deep breath.”
She does. At least half a breath anyway.
“These are things you can’t control.”
“No. I can.” She pokes me in the chest, standing. “I was thinking on the way over here. I can run for mayor. Then when Hank is healthy again, I’ll just step down and she can take my place.”
I lean forward and rest my forearms on my knees. “Are you serious?”
“Isn’t it brilliant? Then she’s not giving up anything.”
“And you’re so sure you’ll win?”
I’m not even sure she’s thinking rationally right now. Her head is swamped with thoughts of possibly losing her second father.
“I’m a Greene,” she says. “Of course.”
I push myself off the couch. “And me? Where do I fit into your master plan?”
She stops for a moment and finally the light bulb goes on that her royal plan has a snag in it. “Well… I’ll hire you. So you can still get everything you want, and everyone wins.”
I’m at a loss for words. Watching her in this almost manic state, as though she’s a nurse in a war zone, trying to fix everyone’s wounds, is unsettling. She’s not fixing anything really; she’s just putting Band-Aids over gushing wounds.
“I want to be mayor. I’ve made that clear.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “So what? You want my mom to just withdraw and let you win by default?”
I throw my hands in the air. “I don’t want your mom to withdraw, but if she feels like she should, then I can’t stop her. What I’m upset about is that you’re going to throw your hat in.”
Her face scrunches in apparent confusion. “Why?”
“You seriously don’t see a problem with this? I don’t want to sound selfish, but whose happiness is more important?” I raise my hand. “Forget I asked that. I don’t want to know.”
I have to get out of here before I say something I can’t take back.