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70.
Mary-Shane quit her job at the newspaper. A specialist flown in by the Burtongale Estate discovered yet another tumor, this one in Kippy’s brain. Metastasis had set in. He had less than six months to live, Dr. Boutros said. I will die with him, Mary-Shane thought to herself.
She took Kippy home toward the end of the week. It was a sunny day, filled with bird song and flowers. Kippy seemed in good spirits. “I’ll be playing basketball again before you know it,” he told her. He patted her knee. “Don’t worry, I’ll get through this one okay just like last time.”
That evening, after dinner, they all sat and watched Disney movies in the den. Mary-Shane had the illusion that she’d had a bad dream and now was reality. They were a family; how could Kippy die now that he finally had a family? She went in the bathroom and cried quietly for a while so nobody would know.
Later, as Kippy was going to bed, she sat by him. It was as if they were alone in the big house, with the wind blowing gently outside, and pine boughs rubbing against the house saying how wonderful it was to be alive.
“Mom,” he said, hands folded on chest, eyes glittering into a ceiling of thoughts, “I’m not sure I can take it again. The chemo, I mean.”
“Kippy,” she said and pressed a hand over his. She knew what he meant. He’d already received massive doses of poisons designed to kill the tumors, at the expense of sickening his healthy body too. It was okay now, but in a few days he would be immobile, glued to the floor, gasping, vomiting glassy fire. She remembered it all from before. “Kippy, darling, you HAVE to! I’m going to be with you every second, do you hear? I’m going to suffer with you, and we’re going to make it together. You’ve got to! You have a family now.”
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Mary-Shane told Roger as he held her. They lay, dressed in pajamas, on the bed.
“I understand,” he said. His tone told her more: he would stand by her. But would it be enough? Would all the hopes and prayers be enough?
Jules and Patricia visited next day. So did Martina. So did Sister St.Cyr. Some kids from school came, including the boys who had been playing basketball with him; they brought a basketball and signed their names to it. Several girls came with their parents and wrote hearts and valentine messages on Kippy’s cast. Kippy preened in all the attention, but tired easily and had to go to bed.
Roger swapped Elisa’s bedroom on the first floor for Kippy’s on the second, so that Kippy would have easier access to the kitchen.
Vic Lara and Martina Strather stopped by. “We’re working hard to adopt Evvie,” she said. “Oh, didn’t Vic tell you? We’re engaged to be married next year.”
“That’s great,” Mary-Shane and Roger said.
Vic said: “Mary-Shane, I’m sorry your son is so sick.”
Mary-Shane said: “I wish you had left me to die when Gilbert...” Immediately she realized that then Kippy would have died alone, and she covered her face and cried.
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