“Cancer is a buzzkill, what with the pills and the chemo and the dying.” “Yes,” says Nick thoughtfully. “It’s a fucker. But luckily…” Eve laughs, because “luckily” is their family watch word. Tack it on to any gloomy sentence, they have instructed their children, and you can turn things around, viz: It’s raining. But luckily, we’ve all got umbrellas. I hate hockey. But luckily, I also play football. I have incurable cancer. But luckily, my last scan was good. “Luckily,” reiterates Nick, “there’s always a cup of tea.”
