Wading out into the murky greenish-brown lake water, I fought back the urge to think it was gross. There's no competition between fresh and salt water. The calm made me miss the waves and the salty air. This room temperature water was just... strange.
"I can never get used to how warm this damn water is," she said once we were about waist deep.
I had to make sure to keep my bad arm down as I nodded at her. "It feels really weird." More like gross but I didn't want to be completely rude.
Dex's mom snorted. "Every time we come out here, I have to pray that the water isn't too hot. I don't feel like getting some flesh-eating virus."
And, I stopped walking. "What?"
"You didn't hear about the cases these last few years?"
"No...” Holy crap, I started walking backward slowly.
Debra laughed and waved me forward. "Don't worry about it. Lisa made sure with the ranger that the water was over eighty degrees before we came."
I was still tempted to get out but I didn't want to seem like a big baby. Crap. I mean, I kind of liked my arms and legs.
"Trust me," she snorted.
I was left with no other choice but to trust her as we swam out to the floating dock not too far away. I was a little glad she wasn't in the mood to talk as I hoisted myself up onto the edge while she treaded water nearby. My head did hurt but I knew it was more because I felt a little disappointed than anything else.
"Are you healthy now?"
The question was like a punch to the gut. "Hmm?"
Her head bobbed just ten feet away from the dock, she tipped it toward me. "Your cancer. Is it all gone now?"
Blood rushed to my face like there was a fire it was trying to get away from, and my mind went reeling right along with it. I shouldn't be surprised that she knew. If I gave myself more than ten seconds to take in her question, I would probably think about the fact that she'd been involved in the Club long enough to remember hearing about me as a kid.
But answering her still didn't seem natural. "Yes. I've been in remission for almost six years now."
"Good." She smiled wide like I'd just told her that I'd bought a new car. "No one's said anything about it, so I figured you were probably one-hundred percent again."
"I'm okay." I returned her smile, even moving my arm a little so that she could see a hint of the scarring. When the hell was the last time I showed it to someone? I couldn't remember. "Thank you for asking though."
Debra winked. "Glad to hear that. Dex been treating you okay?"
Now that made me snort. Why did everyone always ask a variation of the same question? "Except for his little temper tantrums, he's been good." I was tempted to say very good to me but luckily I managed not to. It just sounded dirty in my head.
And I'm surprised to have been disappointed that it wasn't like that at all.
"I'm even more glad to hear that. I love that boy—," like Dex could still be considered a boy. Ha. "But I know how he is. I'm sorry to say he gets that shitty temper from me and his pa."
What do you say to something like that? It's okay? No. Absolutely not.
Thankfully she wasn't expecting an answer. "That's just about all he gets from his pa." The tight laugh was so bitter I definitely didn't know what to say afterward. I understood what she meant. I had an idea of what his father was like after Houston and I think Dex needed to hear that even his mom didn't see him in the same light.
"MA!" someone yelled from the shore.
Lisa, Dex's sister, stood on the beach, tossing towels at the kids around her.
"Food's ready!" she yelled again, not bothering to look up.
We both silently agreed to get out of the water. I dropped back in and swam slowly to shore alongside Dex's mom. I was only going to have this one chance to say something. “Debra?”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think Dex knows I was sick, and I haven’t exactly got around to telling him.” So please don’t say anything, I begged her with my eyes.
There was no hesitation in her answer. She nodded immediately. “Got it. That’s your business, honey.”
I smiled at her tightly, giving her a brief nod. “I’m going to tell him, I just haven’t yet.”
“Okay.” She tipped her chin down a millimeter. “Make sure you tell him though, whenever you’re ready. He’s never been good with surprises, just to warn you.”
Her warning felt ominous but her face was open and honest. I mumbled something to her that meant nothing and was easily forgotten.
Lisa stood off to the side, herding the group of kids toward the picnic tables over the sloped terrain. Regardless of whether the oldest Locke knew about my cancer treatment or not, I was conscious to keep my arm straight against me as I walked toward my towel, reaching up only to wring out my wet hair.