Elin Hilderbrand - 28 Summers

“I love you, Mal,” Jake says.

Mallory closes her eyes, too overcome to say anything back.

When she opens her eyes, he’s gone.

Summer #28: 2020

Ursula de Gournsey has a weeklong campaign stop in St. Louis. Every speech is followed by a reception where they serve fried ravioli, Imo’s Pizza, gooey butter cake, and Ted Drewes frozen custard.

Jake is with the campaign in a suite at the Hyatt Regency when he receives the call from Lincoln Dooley.

He hangs up the phone and sits down on the bed that he and Ursula are supposed to be sleeping in, although sleep these days is done mostly on airplanes and in the car. He feels like he’s falling. He’s been pushed off a building. He’s a coin flipped carelessly into a bottomless well. There’s air rushing in his ears. Vertigo. He deals daily with the loss of Mallory, but he reminds himself that it’s only temporary. They may see each other as soon as next September if Ursula loses.

Ursula, he knows, isn’t going to lose.

But now, suddenly, that has no bearing on his life—win, lose, elected, reelected; it doesn’t matter. The melanoma came back, metastasized to her brain. Link has called hospice. Mallory is dying.

Jake tries to remember how she looked when he saw her the summer before.

Beautiful. She looked beautiful. She looked like Mallory.

Her eyes had been blue.

Jake enters the suite’s sitting room, St. Louis command central, where Ursula is meeting with her young staffers—one of whom is Avery Silver, Hank Silver’s oldest daughter, the squash champion—and the UDG campaign manager, Kasie Smith. Ursula met Kasie at a charity event sponsored by Western Michigan Woman magazine and hired her on the spot.

We do well together, Ursula said. She gets me. Jake remembers that these were the exact phrases Ursula used to describe her relationship with Anders; it’s her highest praise. Jake likes Kasie very much. She’s smart and focused like Ursula, direct and poised like Ursula—and warm and empathetic, qualities that she’s trying to teach Ursula. Kasie is now the most important person in Ursula’s life, in all of their lives.

Around Kasie and the staff, Jake works hard to come across as the consummate supportive spouse, but now, his voice is sharp. “Ursula, I need to talk to you.”

Ursula is reading something. She doesn’t look up.

“Ursula,” Jake says.

“Ursula,” Kasie prompts, and Ursula puts a finger down to mark her place. Kasie’s voice is the only one that can penetrate Ursula’s concentration these days.

“What is it?” Ursula asks.

Jake nods toward the bedroom.

The bubble over her head says, This had better be important. She follows Jake into the other room. He closes the door.

“I got a phone call just now,” he says. “From Mallory Blessing’s son. Mallory has cancer, it’s metastasized to her brain, and they’ve called hospice.”

“Oh no,” Ursula says. “Jake, I’m so—”

“I’m going to Nantucket tomorrow.”

“You can’t leave tomorrow.”

“St. Louis isn’t going anywhere.”

“We have three events plus the health-care symposium that you’re moderating. It’s a can’t-miss thing.”

“Nothing is a can’t-miss thing,” he says. “Get some perspective, Ursula.”

“Jake.”

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll go Saturday.”

Later that afternoon, Jake goes into his hotel room and puts the DO NOT DISTURB sign up. He sits at the desk and tries to work on talking points for the symposium, but he has a difficult time concentrating. There’s a tentative knock at the door. Jake is sure it’s Avery Silver. He’s assigned her a top-secret task.

But the person Jake finds is his daughter, Bess. She’s wearing a dress, heels, pearls, looking so much like a younger version of Ursula, it’s spooky. Bess is working on the campaign this summer, reaching out to Generation Z voters. “Hi, honey,” Jake says.

“Please take me with you to Nantucket,” Bess says.

Jake flinches. “What? Did your mom—”

“She told me you’re going to say goodbye to a sick friend.”

Jake closes his eyes. Ursula can’t keep her fingerprints off anything he does. She just has to be in control.

“Yes,” Jake says. “It’s delicate stuff and not anything you want to be a part of, trust me.”

“Please, Dad,” Bess says. “I have to get out of here, even if it’s only for a couple days.”

“I understand. But, honey, this isn’t a vacation…”

“I’ll let you do your thing, I promise,” Bess says. “I just need a break from the meetings and the strategizing and the canvassing. It’s a brain-squeeze. I want to get outside. If I could see the ocean, even for a couple of minutes—” She breaks off and gives him an assessing look. “Besides, Mom says you’re going to be sad. And I don’t want you to be alone.”

After his phone conversation with Jake McCloud—Jake McCloud!—Link has questions. He sits at his mother’s bedside Googling Jake McCloud. In every single photograph, Jake is with Ursula de Gournsey. And then Link reads about him on Wikipedia.

…graduated from Johns Hopkins University…

Aha! Link thinks. Maybe he knows Uncle Coop? But that still doesn’t quite explain it. Why would his be the number in an envelope in the sticky drawer?

“Mom?” Link says when Mallory’s eyelids flutter. He doesn’t like forcing her awake but he needs answers while she’s still somewhat cogent. “Listen, I called that number and Jake McCloud answered.”

Mallory’s eyes open.

“He said for you to hold on,” Link says. “He told me he’s coming.”

A single tear drips from the corner of Mallory’s eye. Link wipes it with his thumb.

“Mom?” Link says, but her eyes have closed.

Apple stops by the next day. She reads to Mallory from The English Patient for a while; it’s not a cheerful book by any means, but it’s Mallory’s favorite. Then Apple starts talking about their old Summer House–waitressing days— Hokey Pokeys, Ollie’s dollies —and Link hears his mother laughing. She seems better. Is she getting better?

Uncle Cooper flies in from DC and he and Link both talk with Sabina, RN case manager. Sabina tells them that watching a loved one “transition” can be painful and draining.

“Make sure you take care of yourselves,” Sabina says. “Fill your cup. Do things that comfort you and sustain you so that you can be whole and present for Mallory.” She pauses. “She probably has several more days.”

Several more days means five or six, maybe even a week. Which means this time next week…what? Mallory will be dead? How is Link supposed to process that?

After talking to Sabina, Cooper and Link take a walk down the beach. It’s warm and sunny, one of the first beautiful days of the summer. Link can see people gathering down at Fat Ladies with their brightly colored umbrellas and their coolers, so they walk in the other direction.

Coop says, “You will never be alone. For the rest of your life, I’ve got you, man. And your dad will be there too, of course. But even together, we aren’t going to be able to replace your mom.” Coop clears his throat. “Have you contacted Leland?”

“I wasn’t sure I should. Mom hasn’t spoken to Leland since I was in ninth grade.”

“I’ll get ahold of her,” Coop says.

“Mom asked me to call the number in this envelope that was tucked away in her desk drawer and I did, and you’re never going to guess who answered.”

Coop kicks at the sand. “Oh, I bet I can guess,” he says.

The door opens and Link, her beautiful, sweet, strong boy, says, “Mama, are you up for visitors?”