“Are you there?” She sniffed into the phone.
“What’s wrong?” I didn’t care much, but it was the obvious question.
“I have cancer.” She wailed the words, but didn’t break down in sobs again. “And I need my sister. Will you come see me?”
“Have you been diagnosed?” I avoided her question.
“The biopsy said early stages of ovarian cancer.” She burst into tears. “If I live, I’ll never be a mother.”
I softened at her words, remembering the way she always played the mommy when we were children. I didn’t know what I could do for her, and wasn’t sure I wanted to help. “It’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” I inhaled a breath. “I don’t know if I can get away, but I’ll see what I can do.”
We talked a few more minutes, and I hung up, torn about what to do. My stomach soured at the thought of spending time with her. All the nights I was alone with our father raced through my mind, all the times she hadn’t been there for me. Yet my conscience whispered about obligations. I walked through the day in a daze, distracted by our conversation.
Around two, Dare walked in the front door and took one look at me before he demanded, “What’s wrong?”
I moved from behind the counter, pacing, trying to sort my thoughts. “My sister called to tell me she has cancer.”
He caught me midstride and folded me into his strong arms. “That sucks. Sorry, Red.”
I relaxed into his hold and let him comfort me. My mind churned and I had no idea what to do.
“Tell me everything.” He spoke over my head.
“I don’t know what I think. Can we talk tonight? I have to think about it.”
He studied me before he nodded. “You got two hours.”
The floodgate of emotion I’d bottled up threatened to burst.
I checked in the two clients and then sat in the office, my head on the desk. Zayn found me like that when he came in a half hour later.
“Mama, you okay?” He squeezed my shoulder.
I shook my head. “I got some bad news in my family. Will you cover for me?” I stood up and headed toward the door. “Tell Dare I’m in the apartment when he’s done.”
“Got it covered.” His words were soft.
I trudged up the stairs and curled up on the couch. Memories hijacked me, and all those dark days swarmed back. Helpless rage burned my chest and desolation weighed me down. I remembered tearing the trailer apart, looking for any clue where Melody had gone, but I didn’t find a scrap of information. I couldn’t remember where she’d gone to college. Grief had clouded my memories. Those first two years after mom died were so hazy, almost like a bad dream. I’d sobbed on the trailer floor when I’d found nothing. It was the day I accepted I was on my own, and began to plan my escape.
Dare found me curled on the couch. He sat close to me and wrapped his arms around me.
“Tell me.”
I repeated my conversation with Melody, and her demand I come to Oklahoma City.
“This is your sister. The one who left you behind?” His grip tightened around me.
“Yeah. We only reconnected at my—at his funeral. I hadn’t seen her in seven years.” I closed my eyes and leaned into him.
“You get close?”
I shook my head. “On good days, I don’t hate her. We talk on the phone a couple times a year.”
“And you feel bad, not wanting to go?” His quiet words pierced my numbness.
Hurt, rage and guilt churned inside me. “Yeah. And if I go, I’m afraid we’ll go head to head.” I released a heavy sigh. “I never told her what he did to me. She never said one word about leaving me.”
Dare’s intense stare held a cold rage, even as he gently picked me up and sat me on his lap, holding me tight.
“Family are who fight for you when the chips are down. The ones who care for you even if you don’t care for yourself.” He met my gaze. “It’s not about genetics, but loyalty.”
I huffed out a hollow laugh. “I’ve been an orphan since I was twelve then.” Tears tried to escape, but I held them back.
“I’m your family, Red.”
His whispered words lodged in my heart, making a happy place in the center of me. I squeezed him tight as a few tears escaped down my cheeks.
He peppered me with soft kisses while he carried me to bed.
“Relax and sleep.” His huge hands stroked my back in gentle circles. I drifted toward sleep.
* * *
After my conversation with Dare, I’d decided I wasn’t doing anything, including answering calls from my sister. I hadn’t made up my mind about visiting her but was leaning toward not visiting.