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The News

The prompt for this story was: someone just found out that instead of the six months they thought they had, they actually have another twenty years to live.

Lily scooted herself to the edge of the exam table and set one foot on the floor and then the other. She absently untied the gown the nurse had given her, let it fall, and walked over to the chair upon which her clothes were piled - her bra and underwear discreetly tucked inside her blouse. I guess this is good news. She thought. Mechanically, she dressed. After 73 years, dressing didn't take much thought, which was a good thing today as she was lost in the doctor's words.

"Are they sure?" Margaret asked incredulously as she set her glass of Merlot down on the table.

"He ran the tests three times because he couldn't believe it himself. He says there's no mistake. He's completely confident. There's not even a hint of it anywhere - in any part of my body. He called it a miracle." Lily took a sip of the French onion soup the waiter had just brought.

"This is wonderful!" Margaret's voice trembled and tears pooled in her blue-gray eyes. She reached across the table and grabbed her friend's hand. "You're going to get to see Claire's baby grow up. You may even get to see Claire's baby's baby!"

"Yes. I . . . I suppose so. I was sad to know I would miss that." Lily's voice was quiet, her head downcast, her eyes stared blankly at the table. She pulled her hand away from Margaret's and let it fall to her lap.

Margaret looked at Lily with concern. "What is it, Lil? What aren't you telling me? You should be ecstatic. How many people at our age are given another twenty years to live?"

Lily didn't answer right away. Slowly lifting her head, she met her friend's gaze. "I'd accepted my fate. I was ready to go. I've done my work here. My kids are happily married with their own families to worry about now. They don't need me anymore. I'm okay with that. It's as it should be. I'm ready to be with John. Besides all that, I don't have the money to live another twenty years."

"What are you talking about? Even if the market is in a slump now, it'll come out of it. You'll have plenty."

"No. I won't. I don't. I kept enough for a year and a half just in case I lingered longer than the doctor originally predicted, but the rest I divided up among my kids and grandkids. I didn't want them to have to wait as my will went through all the legal garbage. I just wanted them to have what John and I had worked so hard to give them all these years. So, you see, I was . . . I am ready emotionally, mentally, and financially. I'm sure I can adjust emotionally and mentally. I've never been at a loss to find something to keep me busy, but it's too late for the financial part. I honestly don't know what I'll do. I'm . . . I'm scared."

"Do you think your kids would let you live on the streets?! How could you think so poorly of your own flesh and blood?! You raised them better than that!" Margaret raised her voice and all but glared at her friend across the table. Their soup was getting cold.

"I can't ask them. I just can't. They're so busy. You remember when we were at that stage of life. They all work on top of all their kids' activities and church committments and their volunteer work; and of course, Audrey has her first grandbaby coming. They don't need to take care of a dottering old lady on top of everything else!"

The conversation continued as the women turned their attention to their lunch. Margaret remained steadfast in her belief in the kindness of Lily's children. Lily remained adament that she would not ask them for any of the money back or for any help. As it turned out, she didn't need to.

Dozing quietly in the recliner, the remote dangling dangerously over the arm's chair in her limp hand, the ringing of the phone startled her awake. Lily scrambled to release herself from the chair's soft grasp and said "hello" just as the answering machine kicked on. "Hold on!" She yelled to the caller over her own voice on the machine. Finally, her recorded self was quiet. "Hello?"

"Hi Mom!"

"Sweetheart! How are you? How's Claire?" Hearing the voice of any of her four children always made Lily's heart sing. They had always been her joy and no matter how old they got, it seemed they always would be.

"The question is, how are you? How'd your appointment go this morning? What did the doctor say?" Obvious concern laced Audrey's words.

"Well. The prognosis is a little different than it has been."

"Please tell me it's good news. Please. It surely can't be worse."

"Oh I suppose it's good. He says I'm completely cancer-free. He found nothing at all. He says it's nothing short of a miracle and that I should live another twenty years." Lily tried to sound upbeat and keep her worries out of her voice.

"You suppose it's good?! Mom! It's wonderful! It's SO wonderful! I get to have my mother for another twenty years?! Oh Mom! This is the best news! I can't believe it! I hoped. I prayed, but I never really believed it would happen! And now . . . I don't know what to say! You'll still come live with us, won't you? We have your room set up. There's no law that says you have be an invalid. We want you here. All of us want you here. And don't you dare worry about money! None of us has spent any of the money you gave us. We agreed when you first doled it out that it was yours until you weren't with us anymore. We were just watching over it for you."

Lily was silent as tears streamed down her smiling cheeks. It seems Margaret was right after all.

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