When we got back to the Lake Pleasant RV Park, our campsite was dark and quiet; everyone had obviously gone to bed. I could hear voices across the way, a different group staying up late.
“I’m going to use the community bathroom to get ready,” I said. “You can use ours.”
“You going to shower?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
I gathered my toiletries and a change of clothes, and as I watched Mom lock the door to the bathroom, I was tempted to text Skyler and tell him to meet me outside. But what did I really have to share? I hadn’t actually learned anything. I wasn’t going to wake him up for nothing. The story could wait until the next day.
The bathroom wasn’t far but I was on high alert as I walked to it. I took a lap around the brick building and found a door with a green vacant sign on the lock. The room was fully tiled inside, a shower on the far wall and a toilet and sink on the wall to the left. I set my toiletries on the tiny countertop and hung my clothes on a hook. A towel. I’d forgotten to grab one. Lame. I picked up all my stuff and headed back toward our campsite.
From a distance, I could see two figures standing between our RVs. My heart jumped to my throat, fear shooting down my spine. I slowed down and assessed my options. If I went around the back side of the rental, I could knock on the window by Skyler’s bed.
The closer I got, though, I could see it wasn’t two strangers at all. It was Mom and Olivia. I froze, torn between making my presence known and keeping quiet so I might finally learn what was going on. It probably made me a horrible person, but I chose to eavesdrop. I snuck around the side of the rental and to the back corner.
“I never thought you should wait and I still don’t,” I heard Mom say.
“Miranda, please let me do this my way,” Olivia said. “They’remykids.”
“Of course I’m going to let you do this your way. I just want to make sure you’re looking at all sides of this.”
The wind chimes that Olivia had started hanging up at each stop since Zion rang a sporadic song.
“You don’t think I’ve looked at every single side of this. It’s all I do.”
“I know,” Mom said.
“We only have one more week anyway. What difference does it make?”
“That’s my point.” Mom’s voice sounded pained. “We only have one more week left on the road and I feel likeI’vegotten to spend more time with you than they have. And believe me, I’m so grateful for that, but this should be their time with you. That’s the whole reason we did this.”
“I just want normal time with them. Where they’re happy and we’re making memories and laughing and spending time together. If I tell them, they’ll worry. They’ll watch me. They’ll think I should go home. They will no longer be in this moment and then this trip will be pointless.”
“There will be more trips,” Mom said.
“Yes, of course there will be.”
“You have to believe it, Olivia. It’s beatable. The oncologist said over ninety percent odds. That’s high.”
“I know, but regardless, this year or so is going to be hard. It’s going to be different.”
I gasped and then covered my mouth with my hands.
“Hello?” Olivia said. “Is someone there?”
It was useless to deny it. I stepped out from behind the RV.
Mom gave me her disappointed face. “Norah, it is very rude to eavesdrop. You should’ve told us you were there right away.”
“I know. I forgot my towel,” I used as my excuse. My face felt numb, my hands clammy. “I heard you talking…” I looked at Olivia. “What’s going on? Do you have…” I couldn’t even say the word.
She closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened themagain, she took me by the hand and led me to the table where we both sat down. Mom sat across from us.
“Norah,” Olivia said. “I have stage two breast cancer, which, like your mom said, is very treatable.”
I blinked several times to keep my stinging eyes from turning into tears. “I’m sorry.”