June 10
I wasn’t sure how long Margo could keep from telling Allie about my cancer. I wanted to be the one to tell her, but I didn’t want to tell her on the phone. I was starting treatment in a few days. I had to tell her today, no more excuses.
We met at a sushi restaurant near her house, of course. I’m not much of one for raw food. I even like my vegetables cooked until there aren’t any vitamins left. But today it didn’t matter. I picked over fried rice while Allie ate eel and squid wrapped in rice and seaweed paper. Eel and squid, really?
She was telling me about her latest coup at Ladies Guild. Almost every woman in town was involved in some way; I never had the desire to get involved in ladies politics.
“I’m chairing the fund raising committee,” Allie was saying. “I’ve wanted to do an auction for years now, but no one ever listens to me. We always do bake sales and the fall dance. I think we should forget about the little bake sales and hold a dinner and silent auction.”
Allie continued talking nonstop through lunch. I was trying to find the right time and way to tell her. But to be honest, it was easier to let her talk, putting off the inevitable as long as possible.
Finally, the bill was paid and we were gathering our things to leave. I couldn’t put it off any longer.
“I have cancer.”
Allie slumped back in her chair. Her face was motionless, frozen in confused, disbelief.
“You mean they think you have cancer. They don’t actually know yet.”
“I mean the biopsy came back positive. I have cancer.”
She looked at me the way she did the day Mom died. The way you looked at your big sister when she’s failed you, again.
“How long have you known?”
“About a week now.”
“You waited a week to tell me?”
“I couldn’t find the right time.”
“Well that’s just great Jo. I have commitments. I finally get a committee.”
“You’re worried about your committee? I have cancer and that’s what you’re worried about?”
But Allie was already dialing the phone.
“Hello, Louise Honey, bad news,” Allie mewled, “I’m not going to be able to chair the fund raising committee after all. I’m sure. I’m just not going to have the time. Jo has cancer. Yes I know. It was shocking to me too.”
I left Allie giving her big resignation speech.
I thought she’d fall apart, that I’d spend most of my time consoling her, taking care of her. Like I did after our parents died. Part of me wanted her to crumble, to be devastated. Wasn’t I worth a little devastation? I guess Margo was right. She wasn’t that little kid anymore. I’m just not sure I know who she is.
I have to tell you I look forward to these posts so much! Keep em coming!
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Thank you. I humbled. Dee
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Fabulous writing, Dee. Still surreal. Tension and a jaw-dropping response. I wonder if the sister will cave once she let’s the news sink in. ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
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Thank you. I live for your comments. As for Allie, only time will tell.
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Yes, I’m sure time will tell… ❤ ❤
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Well, that was a plot twist.
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You can’t chose your sisters. Thank you. Dee
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Captivating piece. Very enjoyable. The big C puts fear in most of us.
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Hi Mary Annie. Thank you for your kind comment. It only got 150 rejections before I decided to just put it out there. Dee
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You are persistent! I find self-publishing to be personally rewarding. Feedback on my blog post affirms my faith in humanity. Who needs the BIG publishers and agents? Good for you to go ahead with your project. Happy writing to you!
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Thanks MaryAnnie. It’s people like you who inspire me. Dee
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I am humbled by your kind words, Dee. Meeting other writers is exciting. I am compelled to write daily and publish weekly. It is a wonderful feeling to connect with others around the world. Mary Ann
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Vegetables bereft of vitamins–a North American specialty… (no wonder there’s so much cancer here)
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Reblogged this on Still Another Writer's Blog.
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