“If I’d known it was a party, I’d have brought more,” he chirped in his cream-colored linen shirt and matching linen pants. Every strand of his blond hair was running parallel back to front.

“Bud, that is so kind,” Mom said, and took a cup.

“Latte with one sugar, just how you like it,” Bud said.

“Thank you,” Mom said.

“You should try a cortado sometime,” Jordan interjected. “Still smooth but evens out that milk-to-coffee ratio.”

I shot Jordan my most unsubtle “WTF!” look.

“Thanks, son,” Bud said.

“So Maggie and Jordan were just about to tell me something important,” Mom said.

“Later, Mom,” I said.

“No, why don’t you tell me now?” Mom said, with a look on her face that indicated she was digging in. “Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of Bud.”

I looked over at Jordan. He scratched the back of his head. I was on my own on this one.

“Oh,” Bud said, “I truly don’t want to get in the middle of family business. I can come back at a more opportune time.”

“No, Bud, that’s okay,” Mom said, and wrapped her arm around his back, prompting him to drape his arm over her shoulder.

“All right, then. Fine,” I said. “I have cancer.”

“Let me get some paper towels,” Jordan said after Mom’s latte with one sugar hit the floor and splattered everywhere.

I explained it all, deciding that Bud could hear this, especially since his precious “folks down at the plant” might be at fault. Mom asked questions. Bud said nothing. Eventually she inspected my X-rays, and although this wasn’t a mammogram and she wasn’t an oncologist, she thought she saw something not good. She took me into an exam room and felt around to confirm what I was talking about. I felt, not happily, that my self-diagnosis had been valid.

“I ought to be going,” Bud said when we came out.

“Okay,” Mom said, and gave him a stiff hug. At least my news had knocked her out of her frisky mood.

“I hope that your suspicions about this turn out to be incorrect,” he told me, his pale blue eyes locking with mine.

“Me too,” I responded. “But if not, hey, I know whom to call.” I flashed a big insincere smile his way. He offered almost a courtly bow before he left.

“You should have told me,” Mom said as we got into her pickup, with her behind the wheel, me in the passenger seat, and Jordan in the back.

“What would you have done?” I asked.

“I would have gone to the army,” she said, her eyes beginning to well up. “I would have gone to the highest commanding official at the camp, and I would have gotten you to the hospital. People go to the hospital here. It’s not unheard of.”

I shook my head. “The army wouldn’t have let us out of here because you were worried your daughter had a lump.”