Love in Slow Motion

9. Reed

9 REED

The Crescent looks exactly like it did when I was a kid, spending summers at the lake house before I had an excuse to stop showing up. White, cloth-covered tables are stacked three deep, twinkle lights lining the counters and serving stations. It’s the kind of place that wants to convince you it’s top quality so they can charge outrageous prices, when really, it’s just the only place around that serves wine.

We all shuffle in, half-burnt from being out in the sun and the kind of exhausted you can only be after a day of doing absolutely nothing. Mom is already sitting at the end of a long table, waiting for us. She smiles as we all file in, awkwardly trying to decide where to sit. I instinctively move in to sit next to Quinn, but when Chase gives me a confused look, I step out of the way and move around to the other side of the table to sit beside Sabrina.

Quinn sits across from me, and as they take their seats, Chase leans over and kisses her cheek. Her entire body stiffens, and if our mom was paying any attention, she would have seen it. Quinn’s eyes meet mine. Even here, in the middle of it all, I see the way she relaxes a little. She knows I’m on her side. If she can’t keep it together for the week, if she isn’t sure she’s going to make it out of this alive, I’ll be here to make sure she does.

I try to tell her with my eyes that she doesn’t have to deal with Chase alone, but she looks away from me, her smile focused on my mom. A waitress appears with appetizers that my mother must have ordered, placing two plates in the center of the table.

Mom smiles out at all of us and clasps her hands beneath her chin. “I wasn’t so sure I would ever see all of you here together again,” she says, her eyes glowing in the dim lights. “I’m so glad you’re all here.”

My stomach turns. Because I know that Chase and Quinn are only here for the money, not that Quinn can be blamed. She shouldn’t be here at all. But this certainly isn’t the lovely daydream that my mother seems to think it is.

We order food and drinks and settle into comfortable conversation. That is, until my mother turns her attention to Quinn. “Quinn, my love, how’s your family?”

Quinn, who just put a bite of scallop in her mouth, covers her lips long enough to chew. Once she swallows, she says, “I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t spoken to any of them in a while.”

My mother’s eyebrows curve in with that pitying look that I know she doesn’t give to be hurtful. But I also know that Quinn won’t be able to avoid the pain that comes from that look. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Quinn’s eyes fall to the table. “It is what it is.”

I have to end this. “Mom, what do you have planned for the 4th of July party this year?”

My mother’s attention is immediately caught, like I hoped it would be. Her eyes light up. “The works! I want this year to be particularly big. I invited everyone on our side of the lake and even a few people from New York. You’re all welcome to invite anyone that you think would come. I want this year to be huge, the biggest year yet.”

Chase, his mouth full of food, says, “What’s the big deal about this year?”

When my mother doesn’t immediately answer, the table falls silent. She has a small smile frozen on her face, and she seems to look at all of us before landing on Sabrina. Sabrina, who’s looking down at her hands like she can’t bear to make eye contact with anyone.

I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. “What’s going on?”

My mother takes a deep breath and says, “I didn’t want to do this here. I wanted to wait until the trip was over so that nobody felt?—”

“Mom,” I cut her off. “Just tell us. What is it?”

“I have breast cancer.”

Across the table, Quinn makes a small noise of distress, and I look over at her because I’m not sure what else to do. I feel like if I don’t look at her, I’ll float away.

My mother has breast cancer.

My mother has breast cancer .

I turn to Sabrina, who still has her head ducked. “You knew about this?”

She clenches her jaw, and whether she intended to answer or not, our mother speaks instead. “Sabrina moved in with me six months ago. She’s been helping me to get to and from my chemo appointments.”

“ Six months ?” Chase demands. I almost forgot he was here. His face has gone all red, his eyes wide. “You’ve known for six months, and you didn’t say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say, Chase?” My mother’s voice is quiet. She’s always had more patience than she had any right to. “There was no point in scaring all of you with this. The chemo treatments are going well, and it’ll all be over soon.”

Quietly, almost so low that I don’t hear it, Sabrina sniffles. I reach out to pat her on the back, but my hands are numb. My mother has breast cancer. Is she going to die?

Before anyone else can ask any more questions, Quinn pushes her chair back. “I’m so sorry,” she says and rushes off in the direction of the bathroom.

I expect Chase to go after her. After all, he’s still her husband, as far as this crowd is concerned, but he just gets an exasperated look on his face. “Jesus,” he says under his breath. “She has to make everything about her.”

I see red. Slamming my chair back, I stand. “Her mother died four years ago, you fucking asshole. She’s allowed to be upset.” I turn to my mother, checking to make sure it’s okay that I leave the table. When she nods, I follow the path that Quinn took and find the hallway back to the bathrooms.

It’s much brighter back here, the walls a stark white. I lean against the wall opposite the women’s bathroom and wait. Inside, I hear the water running. Then there’s silence for a long time before the door opens and Quinn walks out. As soon as she seems me, she stops. Her face is red and splotchy, wet like she tried to cool it off with cold water.

When I don’t move, she leans back against the wall beside the bathroom door.

“You okay?” I ask.

She lets out a humorless laugh. “Is everyone mad at me?”

There’s no way I’m going to tell her about Chase’s reaction. She doesn’t deserve that bullshit. I just shake my head. “Of course not. You’re allowed to have your emotions.”

She sighs and sets her head back against the wall. “She’s your mother.”

“I’m aware.”

“So I should be comforting you .”

I take a deep breath. It’s not as if I’ve had even a moment to let any of this sink in. I don’t know how to feel. “She didn’t say she was dying. A lot of women survive breast cancer. It’s highly treatable.”

She seems to be processing my words, her throat working and her eyes falling closed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so dramatic.”

“Stop apologizing.” When she opens her eyes, I say, “I know this must be hard for you.”

Her eyes shift, going over my shoulder, and I turn my head to find Chase coming down the hallway, his eyes glued to Quinn. When he gets to us, he nudges me with his elbow in this companionable way that makes me angry. We’re not friends. We’re not buddies. And I don’t want to leave him alone in this hallway with Quinn. He should have been the first one back here.

But Quinn’s looking back at him, and I can’t deny them their chance to talk, even if the thought of leaving them alone makes a metallic taste form in my mouth.

I turn and head down the hallway, back to the table.