by TJ Fox
When I see Simone’s face, tense and biting her lower lip, I think she hates it. Then, she bursts out laughing. “It’s awesome!”
Even Riff has a grin on his face. This is exactly what everyone needed this morning. Shit and sunshine. Maybe Dylan has a point because this is definitely sunshine.
When B sees the PJs Jules got, he just grins from ear to ear. “Look! It’s Dean!”
“Yeah, sure looks like him.” I sit on the side of the bed. “Would you like to get cleaned up a bit? It might make you feel better. Want your brother or sister to help you out?”
He shakes his head back and forth, holding out the new PJs to me. “Can you do it?”
I take them from him, warmth blooming in my chest. “If that’s what you want, sure.”
“Alright, kiddos. Let’s all step out for a few minutes to let Teri get B-Rad changed. I saw a vending machine down the hall that has hot chocolate.” Jorie climbs down off the bed, and Jules ushers Riff and Simone out the door.
I wet a washcloth with warm water to wash him down a bit. I avoid the glue covered incisions, focusing on his face, neck and arms. After taking the cloth back to the bathroom, I help him into his new PJs. The top buttons up, so it will be easy for the nurses to access when needed.
“Feel a little better?”
“Yeah. Lots. Now I’m hungry.” He is looking at the different bears on his pants. They are all over and each in different, silly positions.
Sadie comes in as I’m getting ready to button him up, so I leave it. She does her checks and says that everything else is still good. On her way out the door, another person comes in with a couple more towels. She leaves after grabbing the wet ones from the bathroom.
Jules brings everyone back in soon after. She sets a cup on the table where I’d been trying to make some notes. She points at it. “That is for after you go take your shower,” then points to the bathroom. “Go.”
I just laugh at her as I grab my bag and head in. “I’m going! I’m going! Sheesh! Bossy woman!” Her cackle follows me in.
Chapter 11
Following Simone’s lead, I pull my hair up, twist it around and use a clip to hold it in place, so I don’t have to deal with drying it. Clean and dressed in fresh clothes has me feeling more me than I have in what feels like days. I even put on just a touch of makeup to add to the feeling of normality.
When I take a good look at my reflection, I’m surprised that the face looking back at me in the mirror doesn’t look different than the one I’ve seen staring back at me for the last 27 years. I see the same brown hair and brown eyes, the same heart-shaped face, the same upturned nose. I feel like I should look different. That my face should show the upheaval and the weight of the last day, that it should somehow show how much has happened, how the course of my life has changed, but everything is still the same. That seems wrong somehow.
What did Dylan see to make him believe I was this mythical perfect person he was looking for when he set out to find a… what? Parent? Guide? Keeper? Replacement? I am none of those things. I can only see that I am not what these kids want or need. I am not him.
Still, I’m all they’ve got right now which means I have to be the one to break the news to them, so I suck it up and finish. Staring in the mirror isn’t going to fix things. It’s only delaying what I have to do. I adjust my clip one last time, grab my bag and walk back into the room.
Jorie is back on the bed with B, coloring and chatting. It’s one of the reasons I wanted Jules to bring her. She will talk anyone’s head right off their shoulders and down the street if you don’t stop her. Just like her mother.
I drop my bag off over by the table I’ve claimed as mine. Jules comes over while I’m making sure everything I’m going to want is in my purse. I recognize it for what it is though. I’m stalling.
“Jorie is going to have him entertained for a while, so why don’t you take the other two on down and grab some lunch. We can keep B-Rad company.” She has her hand on my back while she’s talking. Most of what she is saying is obviously for Riff’s and Simone’s benefit.
Straightening, I turn to them. “Are you guys hungry? We can go grab something in the cafeteria and then bring something back for Jules and Jorie when we are done.”
The “okay” comes from Riff, and Simone tosses out “sure” at the same time.
“B, sweetie. Your lunch will be here soon. Like the doctor said, still liquids for now, but if you do well with that, you can have some Jell-O this afternoon. Will you be okay if we go downstairs for a while?”
He barely even looks up from the coloring book. “Okay. Jorie and me are having fun. We have lots of pictures to color.”
Jorie pauses to ask, “Can I have chicken nuggets?”
I lean down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see what I can find. What about you, Jules?”
“You know what I like, so just grab what you think looks good.” She waives me off and settles in the chair Riff just vacated.
“Alright, we will see you all in a little while.”
Riff and Simone trail behind me out the door. I head to the waiting room, hoping it isn’t busy. I luck out because the corner we took up last night is free. There is only one other person here, and he’s on the other side of the room.
“Come on. We can talk here, then we’ll go eat.”
We take the same seats we had last night. I sit back and pull my notepad out. Laying it on my lap, I clasp my hands together on top of it and look at Riff and Simone sitting next to me.
I take a deep breath and hold it for a second. “I haven’t mentioned some of what is going on because I didn’t know if the information was accurate. I didn’t want to tell you something that might upset you and then find out it was wrong. I’ve done what I can to get some confirmation, but there are still things that I don’t have answers to, so we are going to have to take this one thing at a time. Okay?”
Simone nods, but I only get a glare from Riff. He isn’t going to do a thing to make this any easier. I grumble at myself because it isn’t his responsibility to make this easier. He’s just a kid. I look down at my hands.
“I don’t…” Nope. “You see…” Wrong. “Dammit… Okay, no. Honesty. Right.” I stumble all over the place, not knowing where to start.
I look back up and glance between them. “Dylan wrote me a letter. I got it last night, after I got here with B. There is a lot in there I still don’t understand, but one thing I have been able to confirm is that he is sick. He was diagnosed with a brain tumor just a few months after your mom passed away.” I pause. Just one more moment before I have to break their hearts. Just one. Please. I don’t want to do this.
I whisper, “He’s dying.”
All the anger drops from Riff’s face as he reaches across to hold a crying Simone.
“You didn’t know.” I don’t ask it, but Riff shakes his head anyway.
I take a moment to clear my throat and swallow the emotions threatening to drown me. Box them up. Pack them away.
My own tears are threatening, tightening up my throat, trying to close off my voice. It’s as though my own body is trying to stop me from doing even more damage with my words. Seeing their reaction is already shredding me.
“He said…” I pause again, taking another deep breath. This is one piece that I’ve struggled with telling them, but I can’t see a way to leave it out.
“He said that he was in too much pain and having issues with his ability to function, and because of those things, he wasn’t coming back. He said he didn’t want you to watch him suffer through that like you did with your mom, that he couldn’t put you through that again.” Riff flinches as though the words have a physical impact.
I am barely able to finish through the tears that break free. “I’m so sorry.”
Simone has her face buried in Riff’s shoulder sobbing, and silent tears are streaming
down his face, his jaw flexing more than ever in his effort to hold everything together. They are hanging onto each other as if they are the only ones left in the world. In a way, they are. Now that Dylan has chosen his disappearing act, the only other part of their world left is in a hospital room recovering from surgery.
“Wh…wh... whyyy?” Her words stutter, and she can barely get them out. Turning back to me again, Simone looks like my heart feels. Crushed.
Honesty. Stick to it. I shake my head. “I don’t know how to answer that. I believe that he feels he is doing the right thing, but I don’t understand it. I do know that, above all else, the three of you are Dylan’s entire world, and he would move heaven and earth to do the right thing for you all.”
“If that were true, he wouldn’t be doing this. Not when B-Rad needs him the most. Not when he needs us the most!” Rolling his lips together, Riff looks away after that outburst in an obvious effort to get control of himself again.
“Riff, I won’t try to make excuses for your brother. I’m not sure there are any to make because I certainly don’t understand what he is thinking. Just… he’s your brother. Try not to judge him, at least until we find out more. I know what I’m asking you to do is hard, but… just try, okay?”
He still hasn’t looked back at me, but he nods.
“Betty said the police are still out looking for him.” Dammit, dammit, dammit! Haven’t I done enough? Why do I have to keep slicing them open? Why is Dylan doing this? Why do I have to be the one to tell them these horrible things?
“When she spoke with me this morning, she told me what they found so far. They didn’t find him but… I don’t know what to do about this part!” I blow out a breath and just plow forward. “They found out that he quit his job and canceled the lease on the house.” Shit.
Simone is bawling full out, and Riff isn’t much better. I’m swamped by my own tears. This is the single hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life. I’m worried I’ve made a mistake and said too much, was too honest, that I’ve irreparably damaged them.
I lean forward to lay my head in my hands, wondering if I should stop or continue. Is there a limit to how much they can handle at once? Movement catches my attention, and I notice that the sobbing has quieted.
Looking up, I see Riff still holding Simone. Her crying has turned into those stuttering, hiccupping breaths. He doesn’t let go of her but turns his head to wipe his face on his sleeve. I wipe away my own tears.
“So… what? Dylan just left us and now we’re homeless? We go to something like foster care and get split up? Dylan would never want that. You’re lying.” Oh, he is so angry. I never expected him to not believe me, but I should have. Why would I assume they would just take what I say as the truth? They don’t know me. After a short internal struggle, I pull out the letter.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.” I hesitate, still unsure if this is the right thing to do.
“Here. This is the letter he wrote.” I hold out the envelope with the letter in it. It takes him a minute before he reaches for it.
He has to let go of Simone to remove the letter. She sits up and leans against him, reading along with him. I can see the emotions play across both of their faces. They are devastated, but anger simmers just underneath. I know exactly when they get to the part about me because they both glance up at me before continuing. The letter falls to Riff’s lap when they are done.
“I don’t understand. What does he mean? That part about you?” This comes from Simone.
I give the most honest answer I have. “I’m not certain. He says he wants me to be your guardian. He even gave me papers that state that, but… I don’t know what they mean exactly. Or if they are even legal.”
“Guardian. So, like Dylan was after Mom died?” Riff asks.
I let out a giant sigh. “Yeah. I think that’s what he’s getting at.”
“He really isn’t coming back?” Her voice is kind of raw and it breaks in the middle as she says it.
Stupid tears still haven’t stopped for me either. “I don’t know. But it looks that way.”
I let them absorb all of that and try to pull my own emotions back in. My head drops to hang between my shoulders with my elbows resting on my knees. Slowly, I begin to feel the chaos inside drain away, as if talking about this has wiped out everything, but there is still more to deal with. Sitting up and rolling my head back to stretch out my tightened muscles helps to let go of some of the tension.
“I get that all of this is awful and hard to understand, but I think the best thing right now is to get through the next few hours or however long we need to be here for B. We can deal with the rest later. We need to decide what to tell him and when. I’m going to have to rely on the two of you to help me with that because I don’t know enough about how he is going to react. What do you two want to do?”
Riff leans forward, mimicking the way I’m sitting, while Simone pulls her feet up into the chair, so she can wrap her arms around her knees. She pulls her bottom lip in, biting it, showing how uncomfortable she is. I have to remind myself that she is still just a young kid.
“B-Rad took Mom dying really hard and didn’t quit crying out for her when he got upset or scared until several months ago. He was always worried every time one of us left that we wouldn’t be coming back, and he doesn’t like to be alone for very long, even when he’s playing. He has gotten better, but I don’t want to see him go through that again.” Riff looks like he is struggling to get his thoughts out, so I say nothing and give him space.
He’s looking down at his hands or the floor, so I can’t see his expression, but I can hear the emotions he is trying to hide. “What I want is Dylan here, not taking off and leaving us. What I want is for none of this to be happening. But I’m not going to get what I want.” Simone puts her hand on his back. I can just see the muscle flexing in his jaw under the edge of his hair.
“You have every right to be angry with him, Riff. We are all going to be angry at him and for lots of different reasons. But we need to focus on B right now.”
“I don’t think he will understand no matter how we tell him,” offers Simone. “I think he’ll need to know before he leaves the hospital though.” She looks over to me. Her tears had never quite stopped, but they seem to be building again. “I don’t even know where we’re going to go when we leave here.”
At that, Riff sits up and puts his arm around her shoulders again. She rests her head on his shoulder.
“We just need to focus on right now and take each step as they come, and we aren’t at that step yet. We are still looking for Dylan and a lot can change in a very short time.”
Riff clears his throat. “So, now what?”
“Well, we need to talk to your brother and tell him what’s going on. The last thing I want to do is screw this up and make him slide backwards on his recovery or scar him for life, but he needs to know something.” I’m folding and unfolding my hands on my lap.
Simone reaches over and puts her hand over my fidgeting ones. Surprised, I look over at her and grasp her hand.
“Can’t we just tell B-Rad that Dylan is sick?” The question comes from Riff.
“And when he asks where he is or why he isn’t here with him? I won’t lie. Things only get ugly when you lie, and I can’t have your brother, or any of you for that matter, not trusting me. I think we need to tell him that Dylan is sick and that he is dying. The rest is still uncertain, so I don’t know what to say about that. Would you have preferred I not told you all I have?” So many conflicting emotions cross his face as he thinks about that.
“No.” He pauses. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah. Me either.” I sigh. “What if we keep it as simple as possible? Let him ask questions and answer the best we can without bombarding him with too much information. Dylan is sick. He is dying. He left because he didn’t want you all to watch it happen. Bas
ics.” I look between them to see what they think.
Simone lifts her head off of Riff’s shoulder. “It doesn’t sound quite so bad that way. Riff?”
“Yeah, that works. What if he wants more than that, though?”
“Then we tell him the truth. We don’t know everything, and we don’t have all the answers. Not yet, anyway.” I squeeze Simone’s hand before letting go and sitting back in my chair.
“Do you have any questions? Are you okay for now? I know you aren’t okay, but… just for right now?” As much of an emotional tsunami this has been for me, I can only imagine how much worse they are feeling.
“Yeah. We’re okay for now.” She glances at Riff, and he nods.
I get the letter back from Riff, then put it and my notepad back in my purse. Standing, I ask, “What do you say we go pick up some lunch from the cafeteria and take it back to the room, that way we can all eat together. We can discuss any other details later. The important thing is that we sit down and talk to B soon, probably after Jules and Jorie leave. Good?”
They both agree, and we head off to find some lunch. I’m dreading the conversation with B, but with as awful as this one was, that one can’t be nearly as bad. I can hope at least.
Chapter 12
We return to the room carrying sandwiches, chips and drinks for everyone. They were the easiest things to carry. The containers from B’s lunch have been moved to the table by the bed. B and Jorie are coloring on a new picture, and Jules is still in the chair by the bed, talking to them while they chatter away. Simone and Riff pass the food around then take the loveseat, leaving the other chair by my table for me.
I decide to wait to start eating. Instead, I dig out my camera, hoping the routine of taking pictures will help keep me from obsessing over everything. Everything that has already happened and all that is still up in the air, waiting to come crashing down. Photography has always been something of an escape for me.
