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“No, I’m sorry, Em. I shouldn’t be crying and pouring this out on you.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her, soothingly. “It really is. Sometimes it’s easier to have someone neutral to talk to.”
“Thank you.” She sniffs. “It’s just a shock… and I don’t know how to talk to Taylor about it, I know he’s my son, my only child, I just know what it will do to him.”
“Are you going to talk to him before your tests?”
She closes her eyes momentarily and takes a deep breath. “At first, I didn’t want to worry him until I knew more, but I know he deserves to know what’s going on. Sometimes these things are treatable.”
“How have you been holding it all in?” I squeeze her hand again, trying to give her some reassurance.
She pulls a tissue out of her pocket and dabs her eyes. “I don’t know why I confessed everything to you, Em. It’s a lot for you, especially seeing Taylor later.”
“You should talk to him,” I say, squeezing her hand.
“I know.” She sighs. “They’re just so close to the Stanley Cup. I don’t want him worrying about this.”
“You’re more important than the Stanley Cup,” I tell her earnestly. I don’t know how I’m going to sit across from him tonight knowing all of this, and he has no idea of his own mom’s predicament, all because she’s trying to protect him again.
He has to know sooner or later, and I don’t want to be the one keeping things from him.
“It’s all such a mess,” she says, reaching for her tea again and taking a few sips.
I feel terrible for her. I don’t know what to say. All I know is that life can be terribly cruel sometimes.
“Anything you need, Gillian, please let me know. I’m happy to help.”
“You’re still such a sweetheart, Em.” She glances up at me. “Maybe that’s why part of me is trying to right the wrongs of the past. I don’t know how this is all going to go.”
Tears spring to my eyes again. I’m trying my best to hold them back to save face and be strong for her. “Exactly, so there’s always hope.” I know nothing about the statistics of brain cancer, or what it all entails but I will be looking it up later.
She shakes her head. “Regardless of that, it’s the right thing to do, Em. I’ve been pushing Taylor to reconnect with his father, even before all this happened. Taylor’s just not so sold on the idea after all these years.”
“Does he still come to all the games?” I ask thoughtfully.
“Without fail…” Gillian is about to say something else when we hear someone clear their throat in the doorway leading into the kitchen.
We both look up at the same time and my heart jolts. We get the shock of our lives to see Taylor standing there. We were both so engrossed in the conversation, we didn’t hear anyone come in.
“Does who come to all the games?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, folding his arms across his chest and looking at us both.
Those penetrating eyes know that we’re talking about him, but no words form out of my mouth as I look at him. Nothing at all.
CHAPTER12
Taylor
The sight of Emmerson sitting there in my mom’s kitchen is a sight to behold.
I didn’t think I came in so quietly that neither of them heard me.
It’s obvious they were talking about me.
I push off the door frame and walk into the kitchen.
“Sweetheart, what a surprise,” Mom gushes, sliding off the stool and coming over to give me a hug.
“I sent a text,” I say with a shrug. I give Emmerson a quick smile and a nod. “Morning,” I say to her.
