I felt a shadow over her, from what Arturo had said at the hospital. That she was still sick, the cancer was still there, waiting to strike. I thought about telling her, with the idea that she could do something about it, we could attack it, really stop it. But I didn’t tell her. No matter what we did, we couldn’t know if the cancer was all gone. And Arturo could have been lying about it. All we could do was wait, which we’d have had to do anyway.
Cheryl and I were friends again. Not that we’d ever stopped being friends. But we were sisters, and sometimes that was different. We could take each other for granted.
We sat on the sofa together, kvetching.
“It was cool having a DJ for a sister,” Cheryl said, pouting a little. “I miss you just playing music all the time. You used to dig up the best stuff.”
“Like you ever listened,” I said. “I always did graveyards.”
“What do you think I listened to when I was up with the babies at midnight?”
She had a point. I let the warm glow of the compliment settle over me. My sister, my big sister, listened to my shift. “I used to think you had the best stuff. I think you’re the one who got me started on the whole music thing.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Did you ever give me back that Smiths tape?”
“Oh no, we are not starting that again—”
Mom, as usual, intervened. “What about you, Ben—what kind of music do you listen to?”
“He doesn’t like music,” I said, glaring.
Ben occupied a nearby armchair, nibbling at a piece of cake and trying to be unobtrusive. He looked at me, feigning shock and hurt. At least I thought he was feigning.
“I never said that,” he said. “I grew up watching MTV just like everyone else.”
Cheryl said, “And he’s old enough to remember when MTV played music.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ah yes, the battle cry of Generation X.” Now I had them both glaring at me. I gave up. I stood and headed toward the kitchen. “Anyone else want a soda?”
Mom watched all this, beaming, queen of all she surveyed. I stopped to hug her as I passed her chair. She was still sore, but her returning hug was strong. She’d make it, I knew she would, no matter what Arturo had said.
When I closed the fridge, I looked up to find that Ben had followed me into the kitchen.
“Can I talk to you a minute?” he said.
“What is it?” Something serious, I thought. Had to be. He had this look on his face, this too-somber and intent expression, like he was getting ready to do something difficult. To defend a client he knew was guilty. To break up with a girlfriend.
We stood for a moment, regarding each other, leaning side by side against the counter. My arms were crossed, his hands were shoved in his pockets. He was working up to saying something, and I wished he would just come out with it. I was starting to get nervous.
“Can I ask you a question?” he said.
“I think I already said yes, didn’t I?”
He pulled his hand out of his pocket and held it out to me. It was cupping a box. One of those little black velvet boxes from jewelry stores. I stopped breathing. Honest to God, I stopped breathing.
“I thought since we seem to have gotten the wolf side all straightened out, if maybe you’d want to make it official on the human side.” He opened the box, which was good, since all I could do was stare at it, completely dumbstruck. Sure enough, there it was. A diamond ring.
I looked at him. “You—you’re joking.”
“Oh, come on, even I’m not that big of a jerk. No, I’m not joking. Kitty—marry me.”
And I still couldn’t breathe. My eyes were stinging. I knew what to say. A shrill, obnoxious voice inside me—the DJ voice, I’d always thought of it—was screaming, Say yes, you idiot! Yes!
This was the most surreal thing that had ever happened to me. Then I realized—it was also one of the coolest things that had ever happened to me. I was about to burst, and that was why I couldn’t speak.
But something was wrong. I swallowed, thinking there must be some kind of mistake. “It’s silver.”
“Ah, no. White gold. I thought it’d be funny.” He shrugged and gave me the most sheepish, adorable grin I’d ever seen.