When he said it like that, she knew he’d completely stepped away from Madeline, just as she had asked him to.

“I want you to be there for it.” Her voice was finally unwavering. It finally felt good to encourage him to take care of Madeline. “I want you to be there when they take her in and while she’s in recovery.”

“Kathy, don’t do this.”

“No. You need to be her support. She needs you. Please.”

Carlos kept his eyes on her and his face softened. He bit down on his lip and began to slowly nod his head. “Okay. I’ll call her and get the details.”

“Thank you.”

“Come here.” He stood and pulled her hand. “I wasn’t going to show this to you until Valentine ’s Day, but I think I want you to see it now.”

He led her to their bedroom and shut the door. She sat on the bed, and he walked to the dresser. He pulled an envelope from his sock drawer and turned toward her.

“I took my mother shopping the other day. When we couldn’t find anything, we called in reinforcements. So Regan and Arianna met us. Can I tell you it was the longest day of my life?” He laughed and she shook her head, not understanding him at all. “Anyway, when I couldn’t find what I wanted, and the women in my life hadn’t been any help, I called your mother for some insight.”

“Insight? Into what?”

He sat down next to her and opened the envelope. “Your ring.” He pulled a familiar ring out of the envelope, and Kathy’s lips quivered.

“Carlos, that’s my great-grandmother’s wedding ring.”

“I know. I’m glad I called your mom. She said you’d always had your eye on it.”

“It was like no other ring,” she said, smiling at the princess-cut ruby set in rose gold.

“She asked me to give it to you. She wanted it to be your wedding ring.”

She lifted her hand to her lips to stop them from trembling.

Carlos examined the ring he held between his fingers. “If you want to wear it as your wedding ring, we’ll put it on your left hand. If you just want to keep it and have me get you another one, we’ll put it on your right.”

Kathy stuck out her left hand and Carlos slid the ring onto her finger.

He was going to marry her. In his heart he loved her. But when he looked at her and smiled, she wondered when the love he had in his heart would reach his eyes.

Chapter Eight

Madeline laid the necessary items she’d need for her hospital stay on the bed. One by one she checked them off her list as she put them into the suitcase.

The next time she put things into a suitcase she was going somewhere far, far away and warm. A beach. An ocean. A margarita!

Clara stood at the doorway and watched her mother’s process. “So will you look normal when you get done?”

“Don’t I look normal now?” Madeline asked with a smile.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, and I’ll still look different. But I think I’ll feel better about myself.”

“What are they going to do?”

Madeline decided it was a good time to sit her down and explain the procedure. Besides, maybe she could instill in her eleven-year-old daughter the importance of taking care of herself. Especially since she noticed Clara’s breasts were starting to fill in.

“Come here.” Madeline walked to the large overstuffed chair in the corner of the bedroom and sat down. She patted the seat next to her, and Clara climbed up. She reached across to the nightstand and grabbed the pamphlet that she’d studied over and over again. “This little book tells you all about what the surgery is going to be like.”

Clara took it and flipped through the pages. “This sounds gross.”

“I suppose it is.”

Clara crinkled up her nose and looked at Madeline. “They’re going to cut your stomach and take off the skin?”

Madeline only nodded, but she wanted to laugh. Clara was right. It sounded gross.

“They have to take the skin from somewhere to rebuild the breast.”

Clara flipped though a few more pages. “Will you be”—she grew quiet—”as big as you were?” she whispered.

“I’ve opted for a smaller size.”

Clara lifted the pamphlet. “Why do this?”

“It’s just a personal thing, honey. I want to feel normal again.”

“You don’t feel normal?”

“No, baby. I don’t.” She touched her cheek to the top of Clara’s head.

“Why?”

“Well. . .” She gave it a moment’s thought. “It’s been hard. I didn’t know if I would die or not. I’m lucky. They have medications and procedures that make women strong, and we survive things like this. I had to have surgery to remove my breasts so they could take out the cancer. I lost my hair and got very sick from the medication that kept the cancer away. Now I have a little hair, and I can have surgery to have some of my body back. Maybe by next year it’ll be like nothing ever changed.”

“Will they look the same?”

“No. They’ll never look the same again. But that’s okay. I don’t need working breasts.” She smiled and Clara scrunched up her face.

“Working breasts?”

“Yes, I won’t ever be feeding a baby again, like Auntie Regan does.”

“Oh.” She focused back on the pamphlet. “So you won’t have those?” She pointed to a picture of a nipple.

“I could have that done, but I don’t think I will.” She swallowed hard. Never before would she have thought something like a nipple would be important to consider. “But who knows, I might change my mind.”

Clara snuggled closer to her. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Mom. I was scared.”

“You know what, honey?” She smoothed her daughter’s hair with her hand. “So was I.”

“Maybe when you feel better about yourself, you’ll get married again.”

Her heart ached when she thought about marriage. “Maybe I will, but I’m not too interested in that right now.”

The day of her surgery, Madeline pulled into the driveway of Carlos’s house. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the kids were still in their pajamas. They reluctantly climbed out of the car and walked up the back steps to the house.