by Lexy Timms
“Don’t you dare be sorry for something like this. I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me sooner.” She pulled away from me and fluttered her saddened gaze up to mine. There was still something there she wasn’t addressing. For now, I could see the relief that her body had naturally settled into, so I knew that would have to be enough. But we weren’t done talking, not by a longshot. I was disappointed, but I was more relieved that she felt comfortable again. We sat back down in our chairs, and I refilled my glass of wine while she continued to ignore hers. The small little action was getting to me, screaming at me when I really didn’t think it should. We sat in silence as our food descended in front of us, and then it was Hailey who broke the silence this time. “So, I made an executive decision,” she said. “About what?” I asked. “There were a couple of John’s paintings that I didn’t have the heart to sell.” “Which two?” I asked. “The one with all the colors splashed onto it with the two black figures in the foreground and the one that has the color inverse.” “I still think they were painted together with one single intention,” I said. “Me, too, but no one ever wanted to buy both. It was always one or the other. So, I kept them, and I’m loaning them out as a pair to other galleries and museums.” “What?” I asked. “Yep,” she said, smiling. “I had a woman from LAB Art take an interest in them, so they borrowed them both for the month. They’re currently hanging on the walls for one thousand dollars a pop, and I’m taking half the proceeds from loaning them out to various places and donating it to the local homeless shelter.”
I sat back in my chair and chuckled as my gaze turned out the window. “I could’ve never imagined,” I said. “I figured you would be excited about the news.” “Never in a million years did I ever think my brother could’ve had this type of lasting impact on a community,” I said. I could feel the guilt trickling through my body even as the words flew from my mouth. “Bryan,” she said as she took my hand, “it’s okay. It’s okay to be shocked. It doesn’t mean you didn’t believe in him. It just means none of us dreamed big enough. There’s no shame in that.” “You know what I keep thinking about?” I asked. “I have a feeling, but I want you to say it.” I turned my head to face her, and I saw the knowing look in her eyes. “I keep thinking about those assholes who did it, who shot my little brother up with heroin because they were pissed. They killed him, Hailey, in cold fucking blood, and they were never brought to justice.” “I know,” she said. “The police didn’t even bother looking into it.” “I know,” she said. “And there isn’t anything we can do about it, either. They’re dead. In the end, they got what they deserved, in my opinion.” “I’m sorry for being so down on our special night out,” I said. “Don’t be. I love you, Bryan, and like you reassured me, I’m here for you anytime you want to talk about things like this. It doesn’t always have to be sunshine and rainbows and romance with us. Sometimes, it can just be real.” I saw something flash in her eyes again, but it dissipated before I could identify what it was. “I never want to be the cause of any pain in your life,” she said. “I guess that’s another reason why I’ve been distant.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “All this media attention makes you uncomfortable, and it’s probably inconvenient. I brought it all on you, convincing you to let me pitch that story to Jennifer.” “Hailey, it’s uncomfortable, but it’s not painful,” I said, chuckling. “The last thing you could ever bring me is pain.” I watched her swallow hard, and I knew I was digging closer to what was really going on. “I’m just trying to focus more on helping people,” I said. “With more jobsites come more money, and with more money comes the chance to help more people. It’s the best way to honor my brother like you showcasing his art was the best way for you to do the same. Just like you’re donating that money from his loaned paintings to the very shelters that kept him alive on the streets.” “I suppose so,” she said. “Well, I know so.” Our food was getting cold, but I didn’t care. We were having a real conversation for the first time in weeks, and I wasn’t letting my hungry stomach get in the way. I reached over and took her other hand, tracing my thumbs across her skin while she continued to draw in deep breaths. “I’m still shocked your parents came to the gallery,” she said. “Oh, hell. Me, too. Honestly, I couldn’t believe they showed up.” “Did you see the way your mother looked at my hair? I thought she was going to keel over in disgust.” “I was more focused on how my father seemed to want to stay, despite that Mom seemed to want to rush him out.” “So you caught that, too?” she asked. “Yeah. In fact, I’ve talked to him a few times over the past couple days.” “Wait. Really? They’re picking up for you now?” “Well, not Mom. But Dad is, yes. We’ve talked on a few occasions.” “Any invitations to dinner?” she asked.
“Nope, but he did ask about the gallery and about how well it did and how much we raised. He kept asking about your gallery hours and what days you were open. It seemed like he wanted to stop by maybe or something. I don’t know. Either way, he’s talking to me, so I guess that’s an improvement.” “It is,” she said, smiling. “It really is. I still think you should make up with them.” “When they’re willing to apologize, sure. My father hasn’t apologized, so I can’t honestly say we’re on the same footing with our relationship, but that’s the only contingency.” “Why does it have to have contingencies?” she asked. “Well, you had dinner with them. You saw how quickly they riled you up to a point where you had to put them in their place. Imagine choking those dinners down for four years, two times a month. At least.” “Okay. Yeah. I see your point,” she said, giggling. “Should we ever get back on even ground with our dinners and such, would you like to come to the next one?” Her eyes softened while they gazed into mine before she bent over and kissed my knuckles. “Of course, I’ll go with you.” We finally disconnected and began picking at our food. The silence was easy between us this time. It was no longer pregnant with tension and unspoken words, though I still felt that nagging sensation in the back of my head. I was two glasses of wine in while hers still sat untouched, so I decided to do something to draw her attention to it. I switched her glass with mine and started drinking it down. Her eyes followed me, watching my lips intently while they curled around the glass. I could see her eyes trained on the red liquid as it passed by my mouth, but if it bothered her, she didn’t make a show of it. She smiled lightly at me before she speared another piece of her broccoli, slowly chewing as I set the glass back down.
And all she did was pick up her glass of water and sip delicately on it. “It still haunts me, you know,” I said. “My brother’s death.” “It does for me, too, sometimes,” she said. “Even though I know the truth, it somehow doesn’t make it any easier to stomach. When he was a drug addict, I could at least tell myself he died by his own sword. But now, knowing what I know...” “It leaves a hole you can’t fill?” My eyes flew up to hers, and I could see that pain there again, the same pain that seeped in at the beginning of dinner before she told me she couldn’t move in with me yet. Her conscience still wasn’t clear, and it killed me that she couldn’t say it. “I sometimes wonder if my parents are handling it better, since they already gave up on him,” I said. “I wouldn’t say they gave up. They did come to the gallery,” she said. “For all of fifteen minutes.” “But they haven’t shown up at any of the memorial celebrations you’ve had, so I’d say it’s an improvement.” She had a point, one I hadn’t really considered before. “You know it’s not your fault your brother’s dead, right?” she asked. I winced at how bluntly she put the statement while she set her fork down. “Bryan, look at me.” I focused my gaze back to her eyes as I placed another piece of pasta between my lips. “What happened to John was not your fault. I don’t know if your parents are still struggling, but I’m keen to say yes. I’m keen to say they’ve always been struggling. There’s a chemical bond that happens between a mother and a child, a bond that doesn’t merely go away because the child does something wrong. Your parents haven’t reacted well, but I’m hard-pressed to think t
hey don’t care. If anything, you’re responsible for John getting his life back in order. He wanted to impress you, Bryan. He wanted you to be proud of him.” My eyes filled with tears right there at the dinner table as Hailey reached out and grabbed my hand. “He wanted your approval. No one else’s. And that’s what pulled him out from his drug-addled ways.” I sniffled while she grasped my hand tightly across the table. Somethingtold me we were going to be sitting here a while, staring at one another and allowing our bodies to relive some harsh truths. After a while, the wine I’d ingested smoothed away any doubts and fears I had about Hailey, and that meant I could enjoy her presence more than ever. But I was ripped back to my stark reality when she told me to take her back to her apartment instead of coming home with me. She was hiding something, but the last thing I wanted to do was push her away because I was prying too much. After all, we’d just gotten back on even footing, and I didn’t want to risk losing her again.
Chapter 4
Hailey
“A nna?” “Hey there, sis! Why the hell haven’t you been picking up your phone lately?” “I’ve just been tired, that’s all. Listen, I’m done eating with Bryan. Do you think you could come over? There’s something I need to tell you,” I said. “You all right?” she asked. “I think so. Not really. I just need help processing something.” “Okay, okay. I’m on my way. Meet you there in twenty.” The entire ride back to my apartment, I had a headache. At this point, I had no idea if it was from my cancer or from the dread of finally coming clean to Anna, but I knew I had to. I couldn’t keep this from everyone, and Doctor Osmunt was right. I needed someone at my side who knew what the fuck was going on. I hadn’t told anyone about it yet. I wasn’t ready. The treatment had started, yes, but saying it out loud made it so much more real. Admitting it to someone meant it was actually happening, which meant everything the doctor was telling me had to happen. I never thought that in my twenties, I’d have to consider things like settling my estate, and with my sister’s law background, I could knock out two birds with one stone. I got back to my apartment and schlepped up the steps. I didn’t even get my door closed before Anna slid in, and before I knew it, her arms were around me. She was squealing and jumping up and down, and a massive smile had peeled across her cheeks. What the hell was she so happy about? “Okay, okay, okay. Just say it. I’m so ready. Oh, my gosh. I’m gonna spoil this child, you know that right? I always knew you’d be the first to get pregnant!” “Pregnant?” I asked. “Hailey, it’s obvious. The exhaustion? The not taking phone calls? The ominous dinner with Bryan? You broke the news to him tonight, didn’t you? Did he walk away? Oh, I’m going to kill him if he walked away. What the fuck’s up with that?” “Anna, Anna. Holy hell. Slow down. No one’s pregnant,” I said. “Wait, what? Okay, then what the hell’s all the pomp and circumstance about?” I took a deep breath in through my nose as I closed my eyes. “You know those headaches I’ve been getting? The ones I kept complaining about on the phone?” “Yeah. I told you to get yourself some migraine medication. Did you finally see a doctor?” she asked. “Yes, actually. I did.” “So, what did the doctor give you?” she asked. “A round of chemotherapy treatment.” Even my eyes whipped open at the bluntness of my statement. That was happening more and more now, my bitterness getting in the way of things. I saw my sister’s face drop as her purse landed on the floor, and I sat down with her when she settled onto the cushions of my couch. “You have cancer?” she asked. “Yes. Renal cell carcinoma that metastasized to my brain.” “Holy shit, you really have cancer,” she said. I stared at her while tears crested the reddened rims of her eyes.
“You have cancer, Hailey,” she said breathlessly.
“I know,” I said, nodding. “I know I do.”
“When did you find out?” “A couple weeks ago.” “A couple weeks! Hailey, what the fuck?” “I’m sorry, okay?” I asked. “I just ... it’s been so much to process. First, the gallery and now this diagnosis and reporters won’t leave me alone and the gallery’s busier than ever.” “So you got too busy to call and tell your sister you’ve got cancer?” she asked. “No, I was too nervous to call and tell my sister that I’m dying of cancer.” I swallowed hard as tears poured down my face. I looked away from my sister, ashamed of the predicament I’d found myself in. I felt my entire body caving into her as Ileaned down into her lap, my cheek resting against her thigh while her fingers worked their way through my hair. I sobbed into her jeans, allowing my makeup to stream down my face while my sister sat there in shock. I could hear her trying to stifle her sobs while I wailed. “All right. All right. Come on. Sit up,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Anna,” I said, sniffling. “I’m so sorry.” “Talk to me about what’s going on. What’s the plan?” she asked. “There is no plan. I’m dying, Anna,” I said. “So, you’re just giving up?” she asked. “Just like that?” “No,” I said, sniffling. “I’m trying some treatment options with my oncologist.” “Have you started them?” “I had my first chemotherapy shot a few days ago.” “A shot? That’s all they’re doing?” she asked. “No. Right now, we’re focusing on immune-boosting therapy treatments. Bone marrow injections with immune-boosting properties and shots with man-made proteins for my immune system or some shit like that. The doctor’s overhauling my diet and putting in lots of foods that
have been shown to have cancer-fighting agents.”
“What’s the long-term goal?” she asked. “To shrink the tumors enough to where operation and regular chemotherapy won’t kill me before it can destroy the cancer.” I raised my watery eyes to Anna, and for the first time in my life, I saw fear at the forefront of her eyes. I saw her face contort with sadness as her arms threaded around my body. I felt her shaking against me while I held her close, absorbing her warmth while I felt my strength draining from my body. “The doctor says that if the immunotherapies go well, I’m looking at surgery in two months. It’ll be a total removal of the tumor on my kidney with the possibility of losing it altogether as well as brain surgery.” “Brain surgery,” she repeated. “Yeah,” I said, sighing. “It’ll take months to recuperate from that alone.” “Have you—?” Anna cut off her own sentence, and I knew what she was going to ask. I saw her choke on her own words while she grimaced, her face shooting off to the side while she tried to compose herself. Her lawyer mind was slowly kicking back into gear, and I could tell how much it physically hurt her and how much she hated dipping into that part of herself. “Have you settled your estate yet?” she asked breathlessly. “No. Not even sort of,” I said. “You need to. I can help you if you’d like.” “I can’t ask you to do that,” I said. “Not after—” “The paperwork’s quick and painless, honestly. You just designate an executor of your finances and your property, which would be your art gallery. Have you given any thought as to who you would want to give that responsibility to?” “I haven’t even given thought to telling Bryan, much less settling my fucking shit,” I said.
“Wait. You haven’t told Bryan?” she asked.
“No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because he’s still regaining his emotional center and finally starting to find himself again. He’s coming to a good place with his business as well as the story surrounding his brother. Hell, we just got back on good footing ourselves. I can’t hit him with something like this,” I said.
“So, you’re going to keep it from him. Like last time.”
“Last time was different,” I said.
“No, it wasn’t. You kept the truth of your brother’s death from him, and now you’re keeping the truth of yourdeath from him.”
“Fucking really, Anna?”
“Fucking really, Hailey.”
“This would devastate him. I already postponed moving in with him because of how busy our schedules are and how much farther away he is from the gallery. The exhaustion’s already setting in, and he’ll know. If I’m around more, he’ll see that something’s wrong.”
“All the more reason to move in with him, Ha
iley,” she said.
“The last thing I want is to cause him unnecessary pain,” I said.
“And you tried to do that last time, which, by the way, almost cost you his existence.”
“Fuck you,” I said.
“No, Hailey. Fuck you. Fuck you and your selfish ways. Fuck you for finding this beautiful man who wants to support you and throwing it in his fucking face. Fuck you for having this wonderful romance where this man that died brought the two of you together, and fuck you twice with a cactus for throwing it all away because you want to be ‘Miss Independent’ or some shit. Don’t play the martyr when you’re scared. It only makes you look like a bitch.”
