Park Avenue Player(19)

“No more sneaking around to find a place to get you naked.” I smiled.

“And I can get a bird!”

I chuckled. “Free tuition and my dick whenever you want it, and you’re more excited about getting a bird?”

She shoved me. “Shut up. I’m excited about your dick, too.”

“Oh yeah?” I hooked an arm around her waist. “Show me how excited you are about my dick.”

She giggled. “I can’t. I’m going to be late for babysitting. I have to go.”

I groaned.

Anna kissed my lips softly. “I’ll make it up to you later. Congratulations, Hollis. Things are finally looking up for you.”

They are, aren’t they?

“Come back right after you’re done babysitting.”

“Okay. And don’t tell your mom without me. I want to see her face!”

“Alright.”

“Actually,” she said. “Why don’t we wait three days? We’re planning that little surprise party on her one-year remission anniversary. We can tell her then.”

I smiled. “Whatever makes you happy. As long as we celebrate in private tonight.”

***

Three days later, I was pretty damn anxious. I knew my mother worried about how we were going to pay for my college—even City College would be a stretch, with loans and both of us working. But she really wanted me to have the experience of going away.

I went out to the kitchen and found my mom making dinner. She had no idea we were having a bunch of people over to celebrate later.

“The mail just came. Nothing from UCLA.” Mom frowned. “Sorry.”

I felt a tiny bit guilty for lying to her. But I was looking forward to giving her the letter. Anna was going to bring over a box to put it in and some wrapping paper.

I shrugged. “They probably go through the applications alphabetically and Benson comes before LaCroix.”

She forced a smile. “I guess. I’m just so anxious.”

I watched my mom pull down some plates from the cabinet. She looked good. She’d gained some weight back, and her complexion had darkened to its naturally tanned color. She also looked happy again. Even while she cooked, she had a smile on her face. I guess after you go through everything she’d experienced with multiple rounds of chemo, you appreciate every moment.

“Why don’t you set the table? Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

She handed me the plates, and I grabbed some utensils from the drawer and a few napkins from the holder. The phone rang as I was folding the napkins into triangles like Mom liked. She had the oven door open and a hot tray in her hands.

“I got it.”

“Thanks, honey.”

I grabbed the phone from the wall. “Talk to me.”

“Hello, may I speak to Mrs. LaCroix, please?” a man said.

“Hold on.” I covered the phone and lifted my chin. “It’s for you.”

“Can you find out who it is and tell them I’ll call them back?”

I moved my hands from the receiver. “She’s kind of busy right now. Who’s calling?”

“It’s Dr. Edmund.”

Her oncologist. My heart sank in my chest just hearing the name. I looked up at my mother. “Mom, it’s your doctor.”

Her smile wilted, but she tried to recover. Setting down the lasagna, she removed the oven mitts and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I’m sure he just wants to tell me about the checkup scans I had the other day.” She took the phone.

“Hi, Dr. Edmund.”

I watched her face while she listened over the next sixty seconds. The television constantly played some stupid insurance commercial that said “A one-minute phone call could change your life,” but that had always seemed ridiculous. Until now. Those seconds…the way her face changed…I knew. I knew life would never be the same. She didn’t even need to repeat what the doctor said on the phone when she hung up.

I went to her and pulled her into my arms. When the first tear fell, she tried to hide it. But I hugged her tighter.

“Don’t worry, Mom. We got this. You beat it before; we’ll beat it again. Together.”

***

I called the neighbors and Mom’s two friends from work to tell them not to come tonight. Mom had gone to lie down, and I’d put off calling Anna. I wasn’t looking forward to telling her, and she showed up early, before I could call, with a box and wrapping paper hidden in her backpack. I followed her to my room, where she took out the box. The words seemed to get stuck in my throat every time I went to speak.

Her voice was just so cheery, and I was about to ruin everything. It wasn’t easy to disappoint her.

“Where’s the letter? You’re a terrible wrapper. I’ll wrap it so it looks nice.” She walked over to my desk where it had been sitting facedown the last three days. “Where’d it go?”

When I didn’t answer, she looked back at me and realized something was off. “Hollis, where’s the letter?”

I stared at the floor. I just couldn’t get the words out.

“Hollis? Did you lose it or something?”

I shook my head.

“So then, where is it?”

My eyes lifted and met hers. Her big brown eyes were filled with excitement and happiness. Still unable to get the words out, I looked over at the wastepaper basket next to my bed. The crumpled-up letter sat all alone at the bottom.