“Tell me about it,” I mutter.
“But the more time I spend with her, the more she opens up.” He looks toward the door where she disappeared. “I like having her around, to be honest.”
I don’t know if I should be relieved or hurt. On one hand, I’m glad he likes my kid. On the other hand, it makes my heart hurt that he likes my kid, because when I’m gone my kid will be his kid.
“You gave Bess quite a scare this morning,” Eli says.
I scratch my stomach. “I gave myself quite a scare.”
“Did you get that sick the last time you did chemo?”
I nod. “Couple of times. But I wasn’t a single parent then.”
“Well…” He stops and looks toward the door again, and then he lowers his voice. “Sam knows you’re doing chemo again.”
“What? How?” I look toward the door to be sure she can’t hear us. I didn’t want Sam to know yet. I want her to be a twelve-year-old girl a little longer.
“She heard a message your doctor left on your voicemail. And she recognized the way you’re getting sick and put two and two together. She came up with four.” He gives me a pointed glance. “She’s a smart girl, that one.” He goes quiet for a second. “You’re going to have to tell her,” he finally says.
I nod. “I will.” I need to come up with a plan. I need a way to tell her that will do the least damage later in her life, and I don’t know what that is yet.
He stabs his finger in my direction. “And you need to tell Bess. If you don’t tell her, I’m going to.” He stares hard at me. “She’s finally acting like she doesn’t hate my guts. If she finds out I knew, she’ll go back to hating me.”
I glance toward the backyard. “So, you say she’s out in the shed?”
Sam walks out of the house and brings me a juice pouch she has already stuck the straw into. I take it and suck it down slowly, still a little unsure of how it will sit in my stomach. “Thanks,” I say. I reach out and grab her, bringing her in to where she leans against me. She stares up at me from beneath the brim of the pink hat that she’s been wearing ever since I gave it to her and she looks so much like Lynda that it almost hurts to look at her. “You look just like your mother when you smile.”
She beams. “My mom had a great smile.”
“She did.” My eyes start to sting with unshed tears, but I blink them back. “I’m going to go and bug Bess for a few minutes.”
“Finish your juice pouch!” Sam calls and I lift it to take another swallow where she can see as I walk toward the shed.
Bess is inside, and I know she has been developing film so I don’t go busting straight in there. Instead, I knock.
“Go away,” Bess calls back. “Unless you’re selling Girl Scout cookies, particularly the ones with the chocolate and mint, I don’t want to be bothered!”
“Hey, Bess,” I yell. “I don’t have any cookies! Can I come in anyway?”
The door opens and she sticks her head out. “Aaron? What are you doing out of bed?”
“I woke up.” I grin at her.
“Well, you look like shit,” she says. She makes a shooing motion with her hands. “So maybe you should go back to bed.”
I look beyond her into the little shack. “What are you doing?”
“I developed some film this morning, so I was just putting the shots on paper.”
“Can I come see?”
She steps back and motions for me to follow her into the small room. She has the lights turned on, and a fan is blowing in the corner. The smell is almost enough to knock me out, but I stay close to the door.
She has pictures strung on a line across the side of the room, drying. I walk over closer to them. “Hey, these are really good!” She has captured two of me with all three of my kids at the same time, and they’re amazing. Just the sight of them makes my eyes well up, and I fight hard to push back the tears. I knew that it would be hard to tell Bess, but I don’t even know how to start.
I walk down the line, studying each of the pictures in turn. “Hey, what’s this?” I point to one of the pictures. It’s of her and Eli, and her hair is different than she wears it now.
“There was some old film in the camera from a few years ago. About half a roll of undeveloped film, so I did those too.” She heaves out a sigh.