Lexa
The house was loud when I got home. Walking into the kitchen, I found Mom sitting at the table with Aunt Flick and Aunt Willa, the sound of Aunt Willa’s kids screaming and laughing from the living room with Nova and Garret filling the entire house.
The three women at the table couldn’t have been more different in looks. Mom was tall and willowy with blond hair. In the Angel’s Halo MC, she was the queen, and everyone respected her. From the other ol’ ladies to the sheep who practically lived at the clubhouse, the females associated with the MC knew that Raven Hannigan Reid ruled and her husband, the president, jumped to do her bidding.
Aunt Flick was the curviest of the three, her hair no longer holding the bright red dye she’d once worn when I was a kid, now its natural, pretty shade of brown instead. She was also the calmest one of the three, the nurturer when needed. Years before when she’d gone into preterm labor with Nova, we’d all been scared we were going to lose her. That was the second time I’d seen my mother cry, the first being when I’d gotten my scar. Thankfully for us all, both Aunt Flick and Nova had been too stubborn to leave us.
But it was my aunt Willa, the only one at the table I actually shared DNA with, who was an enigma to me. For the first few years of my life, after my biological mother died, she and my dad raised me in Washington. She potty trained me, helped Dad through that first scary realization that I had a life-threatening food allergy. But when Dad and Mom got back together and I became Mom’s shadow, Willa had stepped back to let us build our bond. Since then, I’d lost some of our connection, but we were both okay with that. She knew that I needed Mom and her triplets needed her.
She was married to the second scariest member of the MC, and everyone was amused by how tiny little Willa could so easily get the badass known as Spider Masterson to do her bidding with just a pout of her lips. But what really got me was how his daughters could manipulate him so easily. Especially Mila. Monroe was the quiet, sweet twin, but Mila was sly as a fox.
Like it had that morning when I’d come downstairs, the conversation stopped as soon as I walked into the kitchen, putting me on edge all over again.
I dropped my bag on the table in front of them and glared down at all three women. “Okay, I’m tired of this already. Something is going on, and I want to know what it is right now.”
They all shared a look, contemplating whether or not to tell me, and a ball of dread filled my stomach. No way was I going to be able to eat now.
“Maybe you should just tell her, Rave,” Aunt Flick urged softly. “You’re going to have to sooner or later.”
When Mom’s chin started to tremble, my knees went weak. Holding on to the back of the chair for support, I kept my gaze glued on her as she closed her eyes and finally nodded. “Sit down, baby.”
“Just say it,” I whispered, unable to move for fear of my legs finally giving out.
“Today…your dad took me for some tests.” Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, trying to keep them contained.
“What kinds of tests?” I was able to choke out, my voice shaking as badly as my knees.
“I-I had my pap smear last week, and the results came back. It wasn’t good. The doctor suspects…”
I was going to be sick. Before she even said the words I realized were coming from just the look on her face, I knew I was going to throw up.
“She thinks I have cervical cancer.”
I made it to the sink before the bile left my mouth. Aunt Flick was there, rubbing my back as I sobbed while still retching. Then I felt Mom’s touch, and the tears started pouring out of my eyes uncontrollably.
Stroking my hair back from my face, she pressed her forehead to my shoulder. “Shh, shh. It’s okay.”
How could she say that to me? She was the one who was sick, the one who could fucking die. But she was trying to soothe me. The one person I loved more than life itself might be stolen from me, and I didn’t know if I could take it.
“We don’t even know if that’s what this is or not.” She tried to reassure me, but her voice was raspy, and I suspected she didn’t believe what she was saying. “Th-that’s why I went in for more tests today. It could just be…”
“Mom.” Wiping my mouth with the wet paper towel Aunt Willa offered, I turned so I was facing Mom, and I was startled to realize she’d changed in the months since I’d been away at college.
Why hadn’t I noticed before now? I’d only been home for a few days, but I still should have noticed that she’d lost weight. And Mom was so thin to begin with, she didn’t have anything to lose. There were dark circles under her green eyes. She looked small and fragile, and that was one word I never thought I would associate with my mom.
“Do you think this is cancer?”
She wasn’t quick enough to mask the truth that flashed across her eyes, and I was glad I’d just thrown up everything in my stomach or I would have been vomiting all over again. “Yes,” she said after a moment. “I avoided going for my yearly exam for years, and only went when I started having issues. I knew before I even went that something was wrong.”
“How bad…is it?”
She sighed so heavily, her shoulders shook. “I won’t know until the tests from today come back. But the doctor is rushing everything because she thinks it’s already pretty advanced from all the symptoms I’d told her about.”
Oh God. “Mom,” I whispered. “I don’t… I can’t…”
Two tears spilled over her lashes as she lost the battle to hold them back. “I know. Lexa, I know.” She pulled me into her arms for a tight hug, rocking me like she used to when I was a little girl. “The good news is that it’s treatable. Dad and I have already talked about the options, and we’ll do whatever the doctor suggests. A hysterectomy, chemotherapy. Whatever is needed.”
That didn’t make me feel any better about any of this. Chemotherapy would make her sick. One of my teachers in high school had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and the chemo treatments had made her so sick, she’d eventually quit her job because she could barely stand. Even with the treatment and having a double mastectomy, she’d died a year later.