The Call Of The City – Episode 40
The Call Of The City by Katharine Swartz
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“But it might not be?” Grace said, holding on to hope. “It might be benign.”
“It might.” The consultant had not been willing to make promises either way.
“And if it’s benign, it’s not serious?”
“I think a brain tumour is always serious,” Juliet said with a small smile. “But most likely they wouldn’t have to do anything, just monitor it, to make sure it didn’t grow.”
She took another sip.
“It feels so strange, to be talking like this.” She let out a little laugh. “How can I have a brain tumour?”
Grace reached over and touched her hand.
“I’m so sorry, Aunt Juliet. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now. But you don’t know yet.”
“No, I won’t for another two weeks, at least.”
That was the earliest she’d been able to get an appointment for a biopsy, and it felt like ages away.
“Maybe . . .” Grace hesitated.
“Yes?”
“I was just thinking, maybe you should call my mum. She’d want to know. Dad only got out of surgery a few days ago.”
“Oh, yes.”
Guiltily Juliet realised that, with her own health concerns, she’d forgotten to ask Grace about Andrew.
“How is he?”
“Doing well, apparently. Better than expected. I’ve decided to go home for Christmas, to see him.”
“That makes sense.” Juliet smiled fleetingly. “A family Christmas together.”
“Why don’t you come?” Grace asked impulsively. “Mum would love to see you, I know.”
“You don’t know that, Grace,” Juliet said sharply, then regretted her tone when her niece’s face fell.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound unkind, but there is a long and complicated history between your mother and me. You can’t just wish it away.”
“But considering everything – Dad’s health and yours – couldn’t you try?
“I know you don’t like me talking about it,” Grace continued, “and I also know I’m putting my nose in. But life is short, Aunt Juliet. What’s the worst that could happen if you did reach out to Mum?”
Juliet turned to the window, pressing her lips together to keep them from trembling.
The worst? The worst would be reaching out to Meg and discovering her sister didn’t care any more.
She could live with this distance, because it still held some faint hope. To have that extinguished, to know she was really alone . . .
“I don’t know, Grace,” she said at last.
“At least think about it,” Grace urged. “For your sake as well as Mum’s and everyone else’s. We’re family, Aunt Juliet. That matters.”
“Yes.”
When she’d had the MRI, she’d promised herself she’d reach out to Meg, but in the hard light of day, she’d backed out. Again.
“I’ll think about it,” she told Grace, and it sounded like a promise.
To be continued . . .
