Page 40 of The Inn on Bluebell Lane
“Don’t worry about that,” Ellie assured her. She felt a surge of sympathy for her mother-in-law, struggling with such news on her own. No wonder she’d seemed so distracted! “It doesn’t matter now,” she told her. “Have they said…” She paused, wondering how to ask a question about something so delicate, so dangerous. “Do you know what stage the cancer is? The prognosis…?” she finally managed, her voice hesitant, unsure if she should be asking that already.
Gwen shrugged again. “Early stage three, they said, so it could be better, but it also could be worse.” She lifted her chin a notch. “As for a prognosis, I don’t really know. The consultants can never make any promises, can they, but she sounded… somewhat optimistic?” She sighed. “At least, I think she did. But the truth is, I was in such a state of shock, I’m not sure I even took in all that she was saying.”
“Oh, Gwen, I wish you’d told us,” Ellie exclaimed, before adding quickly, “for your sake, I mean. Someone could have come with you, supported you through it, listened when you weren’t able to…” She couldn’t imagine going through it alone the way Gwen had.
“I know.” Gwen smiled sadly. “But I’ve never liked any fuss, and somehow, with you moving here, and then Matt’s broken arm and all the palaver about the house, I never found the right moment. I don’t suppose I wanted to, really, and that’s my fault, not yours.”
“Well, I’m very glad you’ve told me now.” There was no point taking Gwen to task for keeping this to herself, and the last thing Ellie wanted to do was make her mother-in-law feel any worse. “And, of course, you must tell Matt and Sarah when you’re ready. I’m sure Sarah will want to go with you to your appointments.” In fact, Ellie thought Sarah might insist on it, judging from what she knew of her sister-in-law. “But if there’s any way I can help…” she added, although she couldn’t imagine Gwen wanting her to accompany her. Still, she wanted to help her mother-in-law in whatever way she could.
“Yes, I suspect Sarah will.” Gwen sighed, not sounding entirely pleased by the prospect. “The thing is,” she said after a moment, “I don’t want to be treated like a patient, or a child. I’ve managed this B&B on my own for years, and I can manage this. I don’t need to be… to be coddled or treated like I’ve lost some of my marbles, simply because I’ve become a bit ill.”
“There’s no shame or weakness in wanting a bit of support through a tricky time,” Ellie protested, but she knew what her mother-in-law meant. Sarah, she acknowledged, sometimes even made her feel like a child, and an unruly one at that. She hadn’t realized Gwen might have the same response to her own daughter.
“I suppose I’m just not used to it,” Gwen confessed with another sigh. “And I don’t like the thought of being weak, helpless.” She grimaced. “But I do recognize that I’ll need help, if not now, then certainly later, if the side effects are what they say on the tin. It doesn’t sound very nice at all.”
“No,” Ellie agreed, because there was nothing more she could say to that. She gazed at Gwen, who seemed so small somehow, her shoulders hunched, her face looking more careworn than Ellie had ever seen it, and her heart squeezed hard with both love and concern. “Oh Gwen,” she said impulsively, reaching for her hands once more, glad when Gwen took them. “I really am so sorry about this. And I don’t know whether having us lot here makes it better or worse for you, but I’m glad we are, so we can help you. I do want to help you, truly. I just hope we’re not too much trouble.”
“Of course you’re not,” Gwen replied quickly, squeezing her hands, and Ellie couldn’t keep from raising her eyebrows and giving her a wryly skeptical smile.
“Are you sure about that?” she teased gently. “Because I know we’re terribly loud, and Ben alone is enough to give me a permanent headache, and Josh leaves his Lego everywhere, and Jess seems to be in a permanently bad mood—”
“It’s fine,” Gwen said, smiling as she patted Ellie’s hands before she released them. “It’s absolutely fine. They’re settling in, and every day is easier, for all of us. And it really does feel wonderful, to have the house full again, the way it used to be. Grandchildren are different than guests.”
“They’re untidier, they eat more, and I doubt you’ve ever had any guests as loud as us,” Ellie quipped, although she realized she was at least halfway serious.
Gwen gave a small laugh as she acknowledged the truth of it with a nod. “I suppose that’s probably true.”
Clumsily, wanting to hug her but unsure if her mother-in-law would welcome the contact, Ellie reached over and put her arms around her. “Thank you for telling me, anyway,” she said. “I know that can’t have been easy.”
“Thank you for listening,” Gwen replied, hugging her back, her voice choking just a little.
They hugged for another second before they both eased back, smiling self-consciously. Ellie was incredibly touched that of all the people Gwen could have told first, she’d chosen her. Maybe it had been more due to circumstance than anything else, but she was humbled, all the same. She wanted to make sure she did support Gwen as best as she could, and not just say she would. Already, though, she suspected her mother-in-law would chafe against being mollycoddled, as she’d said herself.
Before either of them could say any more, another thud, louder than before, sounded from upstairs, and this time it wasn’t followed by laughter.
With a sigh, Ellie rose from the table. “I’d better go see to all that commotion,” she noted, and Gwen nodded. “Do you want me to mention something to Matt?” she asked tentatively. “Or would you rather do it yourself?”
“Oh…” Gwen’s voice wavered. “I’d better do it myself,” she decided. “But thank you, Ellie. You really have been so kind.”
Ellie smiled and nodded. She really did hope this was the new beginning they’d both needed, even if it had taken such terrible news to bring it about. She was glad Gwen’s consultant was optimistic… maybe this really would be a new beginning, for everyone.
Upstairs, Josh was tearful, Ben mutinous, and Jess had blocked them all out by closing the door of her bedroom.
“Ben hit Josh, Mummy,” Ava said with something like triumph.
A wave of weariness crashed over Ellie as she looked around the boys’ bedroom, which was more of a mess than usual—a jumble of clothes, Lego, and Pokémon cards. Josh, although sniffling, didn’t seem hurt, and Ben was scowling, seeming restless and bored.
“Where’s Dad?” she asked, because she’d thought she’d heard Matthew coming upstairs to join the children while she’d been talking to Gwen.
“He went downstairs a while ago,” Ben grumbled. “He’s so boring now. He won’t kick a ball around, even though it’s his arm that’s hurt, not his leg.” He kicked the bureau’s leg as if for emphasis, and Ellie’s heart ached for him.
“I know it’s hard, Ben,” she said gently, “but Dad can’t do any rough and tumble because he’s got to keep his arm immobile.”
“I know, but I’m bored.”
“Then maybe you could do something helpful?” Ellie replied, her voice rising a little. “Why don’t you go outside and collect the eggs from Granny’s chickens? I don’t think anyone’s checked on them today. Josh can help you, and if there’s any more scrapping, there won’t be any dessert after dinner tonight, or tomorrow night.” She folded her arms, giving her eldest son a gimlet stare. Too often, due to weariness, her parenting descended into nothing more than crisis management. She wanted to be proactive… in all sorts of ways. And it would be better for Ben and Josh to get outside, do something useful. Life didn’t have to resemble an amusement park, after all. “Well, Ben?” she asked. “Josh? Are you going to hop to it?”
“Can I come?” Ava asked eagerly. “I like collecting eggs.”