In between the seamless stream of conversation between mother and daughter—jumping from holiday gifts for the children to the adults’ lifetime Girl Scouts membership—they chat about their breast cancers.
Sitting together at a Seattle restaurant, Colleen Stevens recalls the time the two went wig shopping. Her daughter, Beth Caldwell, eventually decided to go bareheaded. They talk about their shared oncologist, Eddie, as if he’s a relative. (Ms. Caldwell exchanges texts with him and they are working on a book together.)
The mother and daughter barely eat the Gorgonzola and wild mushroom pizzas sitting in front of them. “The chemo,” says the 67-year-old Ms. Stevens, who goes by the nickname Susi. “It kills your appetite.”