Steel coiled in her belly. “It’s better than Libby hating him.”
“She doesn’t hate him.”
“I’m not stupid, Alice. I’m dying and I don’t have time for bullshit. Leo is my priority. Nothing else matters.”
Alice stared out the window for a long time and when she eventually turned, her eyes were overly bright. “I recently found out that I can’t have kids, so your offer’s a tantalizing gift and an honor.”
For the first time since being told she had weeks to live, Jess wondered if Alice’s situation existed to ease her own. Relief spilled through her. “Thank you.”
Alice nodded, but shadows dimmed her eyes. “But I don’t think you asking me to co-parent him is in Leo’s best interests.”
“I think I know what’s best for my son.”
“Perhaps.” Alice’s face was unusually determined. “But you said no bullshit, so here it is. When I was thirteen, you wedged yourself between me and Libby. By choosing to have Leo, you wedged yourself between Libby and Nick. If I raise Leo, it will put a wedge between me, Nick and Libby and the effects will spill out into the family. Everyone will suffer, including Leo. I’m not prepared to let that happen. If Leo is truly your priority, the only way to protect him is to sort everything out with Libby.”
Jess’s chest cramped. “It’s not all on me, you know.”
“I know. But it will be all on Leo.”
“You make it sound like I’m being difficult.”
“You’re choosing to hear that.”
“Will you at least ask her to come and see me?”
Alice shook her head, her obstinacy always so at odds with her pixie looks. “You’re the only one who can ask her, Jess.”
“She won’t come.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. It’s something I might have done. The ultimate revenge.”
Alice winced. “A friend of mine told me that parenting takes you to places you never expected to go and then abandons you in the mud without a compass. This is your compass and your way out of the mud. You need to do this for Leo. Email Libby and ask her to visit you. It’s that simple.”
Only there was nothing simple about it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Libby poked at the cold meat and salad she’d put together for lunch and eventually pushed it away.
“If you lose any more weight, you’ll get sick,” Nick commented.
It was Wednesday and they were eating lunch at Burrunan. Nick had suggested they meet at a café, but the last time they’d done that, a stream of people had paused by their table wanting to talk about the “terrible news.”
“Just shocking,” Genevieve Lawry had said, shaking her head. “I mean, it really makes you think …”
Libby hadn’t inquired as to exactly what it had made the notorious gossip think.
Nick had countered with, “It’s a difficult time for everyone,” and when Genevieve realized that was all she was going to get from them, she’d finally left them in peace.
Nick passed Libby some strawberries. “First of the season. Dad picked them this morning.”
She shook her head.
“Jess doesn’t have an appetite either.”
It was the first time he’d mentioned her in a few days. Weeks earlier, when Jess was first discharged, Nick had invited Libby to the meeting with Jess and Peter where formal arrangements were being discussed regarding Leo. Libby knew there’d been subsequent meetings, not only because Nick had asked her to attend, but because he always went to great lengths to reassure her that he never saw Jess on his own—Karen, Peter or Alice were always present. Libby loved him for that as much as she hated his lack of understanding that Jess’s diagnosis didn’t mean her instant forgiveness.
Her mother gave Libby terse updates about Jess’s condition whether she wanted to hear them or not. Libby hadn’t mentioned her unknown grandfather or her mother’s brutal assessment of Libby’s behavior to her therapist. Teresa had suggested that the fact Libby listened to Karen talking about Jess meant she either cared enough to want to know or was using it as a form of flagellation. Acutely uncomfortable with all scenarios, Libby had tartly told Teresa that she had little choice but to listen, because Karen in full flight was an unstoppable force.
According to Karen, Jess was no longer able to spend a full day out of bed. She was having ascites drained to relieve breathlessness, her pain medication was being increased and other than cuddles and stories, she could no longer care for Leo. Alice was doing the lion’s share of caring for the child and Nick covered the weekends. Although in deference to Libby, Nick wasn’t on the sleepover roster. He hadn’t even suggested it.
“The thing about Jess’s appetite,” Nick continued, “is she can’t do anything to bring it back.”
And they were back to the circular argument. “I can’t forgive her.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
“That’s a first.”
“No. It’s your mother who wants you to forgive her. I’ve never asked you to do that.”
She did know that. Just like she understood his loyalty to her. Although Nick took responsibility for his part, he hated the act of betrayal Jess had inflicted on them both. But he no longer hated Jess. Libby found that a hard pill to swallow.
“Libs, you keep saying if you go and see her, she’ll win.”
The familiar tension inside her tightened a notch. “She will.”
“I think if you don’t go and see her, she’ll win.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Hear me out.” He interlaced his fingers with hers. “I know in an ideal world, you should have all the time you need to work through your anger, loss and betrayal for your friendship. But Jess is losing ground and we’re almost out of time. Leo is my son and I can’t and won’t shy away from that. He’ll be living here sooner rather than later and we need to prepare for it. We need to prepare the girls. If you
