Chapter 11 - THE BEANIE
I took the stairs three at a time.
Gwen was on the bathroom floor.
Her beanie lay beside the sink.
For the first time, I saw all of her hair.
Or what was left of it.
Short patches. New growth. A pale scar near her temple where a port line had once been taped.
She was holding a prescription bottle with an empty label.
"What happened?"
"Nothing. I stood up too fast."
"Don't do that. Tell me the truth."
She shut her eyes.
I knelt in front of her.
"Please."
When she finally spoke, her voice was flat.
"They stopped my chemo twice."
I couldn't breathe.
"Margaret said the insurance wouldn't pay. Paige said you told them not to use your savings on me because my odds weren't good enough."
"I never said that."
"I know that now."
"How did you get treatment?"
"I sold my wedding ring. Then Luis's wife drove me to a county program."
I looked at her bare left hand.
I had noticed. I had told myself maybe she took it off because she had lost weight.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She laughed bitterly. "Tell you how? They changed the Wi-Fi password. They took my phone after they said I was sending 'unstable messages.' Your mother told me your command had ordered no contact except through family."
"That's not a thing."
"I know."
Her shoulders shook once.
"I know so many things now."
I pulled her into my arms slowly enough that she could move away.
This time, she didn't.
She pressed her face into my chest.
"I'm in remission," she whispered. "Three months."
I held her tighter.
Then the bathroom door opened.
Margaret stood there.
Her eyes dropped to Gwen's beanie on the floor.
Then to the empty prescription bottle.
"What did you tell him?" she asked.
Gwen went rigid in my arms.
May you like
Margaret's voice turned cold.
"Gwen, what did you tell my son?"
