by Nicola Haken
I decided once I’d made up my ham and cheese sandwich I would text Dexter. There was an MOT booked in at one o’clock so they needed to hurry their bums back from the auction. Turned out that wasn’t necessary though, because just as I was sawing my butty in two, I heard the front door slam closed.
“Wow, who died?” I joked, when I turned round to see a very pale Chris and very solemn looking Dexter standing in the doorway. Dexter looked to Chris as if he were waiting for him to say something, and the vacant stare Chris offered in returned sent waves of panic running through my veins.
“Doll,” Dexter breathed, sweeping the floor with his eyes. “Come sit down. We need to talk to you.”
“What is it? What the hell’s going on?” I demanded. Tears were already beginning to bubble in the corners of my eyes. The haunting expression overwhelming both of their faces wordlessly told me something serious had happened. “Chris?” I prompted when I got no reply.
“Dex’s right, Emmie. Come and sit down.”
Struggling to swallow the knot of nerves and fear clogging my throat, I gingerly followed them into the living room and sat down cautiously on the edge of the sofa. Chris took the armchair and Dexter sat next to me, placing his hand on my knee. For a few seconds I just stared at his hand, transfixed by the slight rubbing motion.
“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on now?” I asked timidly, looking up to meet Chris’ eyes. I was almost sure I wasn’t prepared for whatever answer he had for me.
“I’ve got cancer, Emmie. A brain tumour.”
My jaw dropped open and my bottom lip began to tremble. Tears were stinging my eyes like thousands of tiny pins were being stabbed into them from every angle, and when my pulse started throbbing in my ears, I realised I wasn’t breathing.
“Emily?” Dexter whispered my name but it startled me enough to force a gust of air into my lungs. After a few harsh breaths I began to focus again and found Chris kneeling in front of me.
“W-w… what does it mean? I mean… when will you get better?”
“I’m not going to get better, Emmie. I’m going to d-“
“DON’T SAY THAT!” I screamed, shrugging away from him when he tried to take hold of my hands. “Don’t you DARE say that!” I jumped up from my seat, pacing the room and pulling at my hair. “Why would you tell me that, Chris?”
“Because it’s the truth,” he said, rising to his feet and walking cautiously towards me. Dexter stayed sitting down. His eyes bored into mine as if he was trying to see what was happening behind them.
“And you knew about this?” I blasted. “You knew about this and you didn’t tell me! How could you, Dexter?”
“It’s not his fault,” Chris interjected. “He found out yesterday by accident. I begged him not to tell you until I’d been to the hospital this morning.”
“So that’s where you were this morning? You fed me some bullshit story about an auction when really you were sneaking off to let some pompous doctor make my brother believe he’s going to di… that he’s sick.” I changed my words at the last second. I refused to say the ‘D’ word because it wasn’t true. It WASN’T true!
“Emily please,” Dexter begged, and now he too was coming towards me. It was too much. They were too much. My legs took off to the stairs of their own accord and I dragged myself up them. I felt winded and confused. And heavy – like someone had planted a giant boulder in my belly.
“Emily?” Dexter called after me, followed immediately by Chris saying ‘I’ll go.’
Despite hearing hurried footsteps follow me up the stairs, I ran straight to my room and slammed the door shut behind me. Then I threw myself onto the bed with my back against the headboard and hugged my knees, rocking back and forth and wailing into the empty air.
“Emmie?” Chris called softly from the other side of the door. When I didn’t answer, he came in anyway. “We need to talk about this,” he said, settling down on the end of the bed. His voice was so raw and dripping with pain. Every part of me wanted to hurl myself at him – hold him tight and never let him go. But I just… couldn’t.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I spat petulantly.
“Well you’re going to,” he ordered. “Dammit, Emmie, if I have to deal with this then so do you. I wish to God you didn’t… but it’s happening whether you ignore it or not.”
“But I can’t!” I tried to yell but my voice cracked. “You can’t… y-you can’t leave me, Chris! You’re the only family I’ve got.”
“That’s not true,” he disagreed – but he didn’t know the half of it. I’ve never told anyone except Dexter just how much my mum hates me – how much she blames me for my sister’s death. “I know Mum and Dad don’t always know how to show it, but they love you. You’re their daughter.”
“And you’re their son, but that didn’t stop them disowning you at the drop of a hat did it?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“It just is. I have other issues with them.”
I planned to ask him ‘what kind of issues’, I even opened my mouth to toss the words out… but it turned out I just didn’t care anymore.
“They must be able to help you. Doctors are so clever these days.”
“I have what’s called a glioblastoma multiforme. Grade 4. It’s the most aggressive type of tumour there is and because of where it is in my brain, they can’t operate.”
“But what about chemotherapy? Or… what’s the other one…” I took a second to wrack my frazzled brain. “Radiotherapy. Or drugs? There must be some kind of drug out there, right?”
“I start chemo this Friday,” he told me, and the relief that surged through my veins caused my rigid muscles to relax. “But that will only slow it down. They can’t cure me, Emmie. I am going to die.”
In my mind I was screaming at him again – demanding he tell me it wasn’t true. I was kicking and fighting and practically convulsing in a fit of rage. But when Chris scooted closer to me and placed his hand on my shoulder, I realised I was completely motionless. The only thing moving was the mournful stream of tears trickling down my cheeks.
“I promise to fight this as long as I can,” Chris began. “I don’t want to leave you, Emmie, and I swear I will fight this fucker until I take my last breath. But… I don’t have that long, and I don’t want to spend my last few months like this – surrounded by such sadness.”
“Months?” I gasped before throwing my hand over my mouth. “Months?” I repeated, silently willing him to tell me I’d misheard.
“Doctor says eight to ten.”
“No,” I whimpered. “No, no no… this can’t be happening.” I shook my head, wishing I could shake away the things I’d heard in the past hour. “I need you! You’re my big brother, my whole family… you can’t leave me alone.” I knew deep down I was being selfish. He wasn’t doing this on purpose and the rational part of me knew there was nothing he could do to change it. But… the pain in my chest was excruciating. I needed to beg someone – anyone. I needed to be told this was all a huge mistake. If it wasn’t, if my brother really was going to… die… then I didn’t know how I was supposed to cope with that.
“You won’t be alone. Whatever you think, you’ve got Mum and Dad. You’ve got Rachel and Jared and a whole new family here with Dexter and Sarah. You have so many people who love you, people who will help you through this.”
“You know, I was actually going to go and talk to Mum and Dad this week. I was going to have it out with them – demand to know why Mum hates me so much. But now… I guess none of that even matters.”
“Emily, she doesn’t hate you. Why do you think that all of a sudden?”
“It’s not all of a sudden, Chris. She’s made it clear for as long as I can remember.”
“What are you talking about?” he pressed, confusion forcing his eyebrows together.
“Mum blames me for Livvie’s death,” I shrugged. “But I’m not putting this crap on you now. It doesn
’t matter anymore.”
“That’s bollocks, Emmie! If something’s bothering you then I want to know what it is. Why on earth would she blame you? You were just a child.”
“I don’t know why, I just know she does. She’s told me more than once. I’ve tried so hard to make her happy over the years, to make her proud of me… that’s why I went to university. I was so sure that would please her… but-”
“Whoa, slow down. I had no idea things were this bad. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you got out of it. I figured you didn’t want to be bothered by anything to do with them anymore.”
“You’re probably right. But I’d have been bothered about you. I can’t believe you kept this from me. No kid should have to grow up feeling like that.”
“And what could you have done? Nothing. It’s my own fault. She only treats me like crap because I let her. I didn’t even realise that until I started going to therapy with Dexter.”
“And what the fuck does Dad think about all this?”
“You know Dad – he lives in blissful ignorance. I know he loves me… I just sometimes wonder if he loves Mum more. He must do, otherwise he would have stuck up for you. It was all Mum who wanted you gone but he didn’t do a damn thing to stop it. And now you’re going to…” Jeez that word – the ‘D’ word. Why was it so difficult to say? Why did it feel like it was wedged in my throat, choking me every time I tried? “And they’ve missed out on all these years with you. Well I’m glad. They deserve it. They deserve to know what they’ve lost. They never deserved your love in the first place!”
My voice grew higher, more vengeful with each sentence. I didn’t realise until Chris pulled me into a hug that by the end of my rant, I was screaming.
“I don’t want them to know,” he whispered in my ear, making me pull back from his embrace. He must’ve caught the question in my eyes because he added, “I mean it. I don’t want them to find out about this.”
“You can’t be serious! Chris, they’re going to find out when… when this is over. Or what, you want me to keep that from them too?”
“They’ve not wanted to know me for years, Emmie. I’ll be damned if I let this change anything. I don’t want their sympathy… not that I’m convinced I’d get it anyway.”
“You can’t put that kind of burden on me. It’s not fair. This is hard enough without me having to lie about it. If they ask about you, I don’t know if I’d be able to keep it together.”
“Oh come on. How likely is that? Do they ever ask about me?”
“Actually, Dad rang while we were still in Ohio. He asked how you were.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“So what did he say when you told him.”
“Um…”
“If you’re not prepared to lie to them, then don’t you dare lie to me.”
“He said he shouldn’t have asked and changed the subject,” I admitted. “But it’s a start, right? It proves he still thinks about you.”
“Too little too late. If this situation has taught me anything, it’s that life really is too short to waste your time on people who aren’t worth it.”
“They’re your parents.”
“Well I sure as hell don’t feel like their son.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said. My voice caught on the last word and when I blinked, it gave my unshed tears all the force they needed to start dripping from my eyes again.
“I’m not gone yet, sis. And I plan to have so much fucking fun before I am. You with me?”
“Chris, I…”
“You can let my last memories of you be watching you cry… or having some fun with your big brother. So, Emmie… are you with me?” he repeated in a more demanding tone.
“Yes,” I agreed with a weak smile. “I’ll do anything for you.”
“There’s my girl,” he said before bringing my back into his embrace. “It’ll be okay, you know.” How? How will the fact my brother is going to die ever be okay? “Now go downstairs and put Dexter out of his misery. The poor sod’s been tearing himself up about keeping this from you.”
“He should have told me,” I argued, even though I’d already forgiven him.
“Come on, Emmie – put yourself in his shoes. He found a letter that he wasn’t supposed to see yesterday, and after I explained I made him promise to keep it quiet. Would you refuse a dying man when all he was asking for was one day?”
“Don’t say that.” Even though I was beginning to accept it was true, that didn’t mean I wanted the ‘D’ word rubbing in my face at every available opportunity.
“You’re going to need him. Don’t push him away.”
“I love you so much,” I cried into his chest. My voice was so high I’m not even sure I was intelligible. I squeezed Chris tightly – clinging to him like this was the last chance I would ever get. “This isn’t fair.”
“I know, Emmie. I know.” He continued to hold me for a few minutes longer. He swept away the loose strands of hair that stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks and rocked us back and forth together. “I love you, too.”
I sat up and my hand instinctively reached up to his face. After palming his cheek for a second my fingers wandered to the back of his head.
“You look so normal. It’s hard to believe there’s something in there that’s going to steal you away from me.”
“Go to Dexter,” he said again, removing my hand from his head and kissing my knuckles. “I know there’s probably more you want to know and we’ll talk more later. But for now… go and let the poor bastard know you’re not kicking him out.”
“Okay,” I nodded. I tried to smile but it wouldn’t come. It was like those particular muscles in my face had dissolved. Climbing off the bed, I headed for the door. I turned around briefly before I closed it behind me and Chris had flopped backwards onto the mattress with his hands pressed over his face. “I love you,” I whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear me.
Then I made my way downstairs, planning to throw myself straight into Dexter’s arms.
Chapter Five
Dexter
My breath caught when I saw Emily standing in the doorway. Immediately, I jumped from the couch.
“Emily…” I breathed, too nervous to approach her. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t respond with words, choosing instead to run towards me and throw herself into my arms. Thank fuck.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she sobbed into my chest. Her whole body vibrated against me as she broke down and I held her tighter, curling one hand behind her neck and one around her waist. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Tell me what I’m supposed to do,” she cried, making my eyes sting and my heart ache.
“I don’t know, doll.” I wish I did. “We’re just going to have to try and get through this one day at a time.”
Chris appeared at the other side of the room while I was still holding Emily. He motioned to the front door with his thumb and I gave him a knowing nod that said I’d take care of her. I didn’t know where he was going and I didn’t ask. The only thing I could focus on right now was soothing Emily and holding her till her tears dried up.
An hour or so later we were settled on the couch. Emily lay across my lap with her legs dangling off the edge. She’d stopped sobbing, but every so often just one silent tear would seep from her swollen eyes.
‘Fuck’ I groaned inwardly when my cell started to ring. I hated disturbing Emily but I couldn’t ignore it in case it was Aunt Sarah. This country was still so new to her and as yet she didn’t really know anyone. Em and I are all she’s got.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” I answered after seeing her name flash up on the screen.
“Hey, honey. Are you still coming over tonight?” Shit. I’d arranged to go over because Emily was supposed to be meeting with Snickers.
“I’m sorry, something’s come up. I don’t think I can make it.”
“He’ll be th
ere!” Emily called out, loud enough so Aunt Sarah could hear her down the line.
“Um… guess I am coming after all. Eight o’clock?”
“Sounds good to me. And don’t eat! I’m making dinner.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “See you soon.”
After hanging up I lifted my ass so I could tuck my cell in my back pocket. Emily looked up at me with a sad smile… a forced smile. I kissed her on the forehead, letting my lips linger as if I could draw out her pain into my mouth.
“I didn’t think you’d be up to seeing Snickers tonight, and if that’s the case then I’m not leaving you alone. Aunt Sarah will understand.”
“No. I still want to see her. She needs to know about Chris. I just have no idea how I’m going to tell her.”
“I can stay with you.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve missed her so much. I kind of need this time alone with her.”
“Then I’ll shoot Jared a text. He can come and keep me and Aunt Sarah company.”
“Good idea.” Emily nodded and then swung her legs around, sitting upright on the edge of the couch. “He doesn’t know anyone round here. He’d probably just end up sitting in his hotel room by himself.”
“Are you okay?” I asked, taking hold of her hand. I regretted it instantly. Of course she wasn’t okay!
“No,” she answered solemnly, shrugging weakly. “And I’m not sure I ever will be again.”
“You will. I promise you. I don’t know when and I don’t know how but you will.”
She smiled softly, pacifying me. Though I knew she didn’t believe me.
The next couple of hours dragged in silence – the only sounds being our breathing and the occasional sniff of Emily’s tears. What if she was right? What if she never was okay again? Every time I looked at her I saw this fragile, broken little girl and every part of me ached to fix her. But I couldn’t.
