I'll Be Holding on to You

top of the morning mangoes

"What the hell is this stuff? Should I wash dishes with it or make a smoothie?" 

 It was the next afternoon and Cam was critically eyeing the organic orange dish soap he held. "It doesn't even make bubbles," he protested.

Moey was at the bakery where he worked a few days a week designing desserts, and everyone else had gone to their houses to make an appearance for a few hours. It was expected.

"Oh, Cameron, how could you?" I took the bottle from him and pretended to read the ingredients. "Just look at this miracle of nature. Why, it contains the finest oranges from the rainforests of Albuquerque!"

"From the rainforests of . . . ?"

"You heard me." I mimed reading further. "Oh my God, and lookie here; top of the morning mangoes! I'll be damned."

"Top of the . . . ?" His eyebrows were high.

"Morning mangoes, yes. Very rare, from Ireland. Gathered by the Children of Mir themselves."

He snorted but he was smiling. "Look, I'm at my kitchen sink," he said, a reference to a song from our favorite band. "You don't know what that means."

I dutifully fulfilled my end of the script. "Um, yeah, actually, I do."

"Oh yeah." He sighed hugely next but asked. "So how was it last night?"

I sat down on a bar stool and ate some bacon. "Horrible, terrible, and awful." I didn't say any more, not wanting to upset him. He was having a decent day. Of course, he'd only been up for half an hour. 

He slept an average of fifteen hours a day, due in equal parts to the heavy meds, deep depression, and fear of dealing with reality. His preferred hours to be awake were around four in the afternoon to one in the morning.

He put the soap back down and sat on his stool, which he'd dragged into the kitchen so it was across from where I sat. He regarded me for a moment, then took a banana from the banana hanger thingy. Says the child of two writers.

"Can't imagine," he finally answered. He broke the top of the banana open and began peeling it.

"Though I'm sure your brain has tried to run you through it," I said of his traitor mind.

"It has," he agreed. He took a bite and made a face. My mom hounded him about eating at least one a day. He generally did what she told him because he was, after all, freakishly smart, and knew she knew what was good for him. "You bring our pictures for him?"

I hesitated but he gestured for me to go on, so I nodded. "Then he wanted to watch videos of us dancing."

"Dude." His smile trembled. "Did you show him?"

"Yeah." I didn't add that after that I'd had to tell him. He knew.

"Man." He processed that, resting his cheek on the counter while he did so. I brushed his hair away with my fingers, soothing him. Bowser whined at his feet, but that may have been for bacon.

I waited a few minutes in silence and then held out a piece of the coveted bacon. Cam took it, sitting back up to eat it. "Get your hair out of your face," I said habitually.

He rolled his eyes but took the mostly clean strands from his face and rewrapped his ponytail. Immediately a few shorter pieces fell forward.

"I could just cut it," I mused, as if he didn't know. I tossed a little piece of meat to Bowser.

"Stop."

"Just a little trim." I cajoled.

"No."

"I've got scissors right here in the kitchen."

He groaned. "Leave me alone, Dorienne."

"Unfuckinglikely," I assured him.

He got up and stole another piece as he went upstairs, Bowser at his heels. "I'm going to take a bath." And cry about Hadley, but that was okay in moderation. 

It was when he couldn't stop that we had to step in and do something. 

"Try not to smoke too much," he added.  It was the only reference he'd made to the fact that I smelled like cigarettes again.

"Yeah, yeah."

My mom appeared from the cottage and took my last piece of bacon. She had her hair up and makeup on, meaning she was on her way to an appointment with a client. "How was last night, honey?" She knew Mo and I had gone over to Freddy's to tell him about Cam's dad and Hadley.

"About as expected." I drank the rest of my coffee. "Awful."

She kissed my head. "I'm sorry. No fun. It was good of you guys to do it." She poured herself some coffee and refilled my cup. It said GFY, which of course stood for Go Fuck Yourself. Should have been Freak's cup. "Cam didn't go back to bed, did he?"

"No, he's taking a bath. I'm watching the clock." Someone would have to check on him soon as per usual.

"Thanks, love. I'm going to run and see a few patients. Do you need anything?"

"I don't think so. Also I started smoking again." I knew she wouldn't care.

She looked at me sympathetically. "Considering everything, that's not surprising, honey. Don't worry about it too much. You can quit again when you're ready."

Only my mom would understand that concept. "It's probably Mo's fault," I went on. "The traitor."

"I'll be certain to place the blame appropriately," she assured me. "Okay, don't forget to check on Cam. Love you."

"Love you too."

She was gone and I was alone. I didn't mind being alone, but I usually preferred the company of my chosen few. I texted Evie and Erika and Freddy that Cam was up and it was time to regroup. No need to include Moey as texting Erika was the same thing. 

I put my plate on the floor for Bowser to lick later and went to knock on my bathroom door. We didn't use the other upstairs bathtub. It was terra infirma. "You in there?"

"Last time I checked," he replied, a teensy bit annoyed, but this was protocol in our house.

"Well, our friends are coming over, so hurry up." I went to the downstairs bathroom and took a shower.

I'd cut my hair up to my shoulders a few months before and it took me a lot less time to wash it, which was a plus. Otherwise I missed it. Hadn't thought that decision out too well. 

It had been a spur of the moment night, when we were all drinking a little and had spontaneously gone to get tattoos for Hadley. Afterward I'd asked Evie to cut it all off, and she had.

The tattoo I would never have second thoughts about. It was a yin yang sign, Undaunted written in the black half in pink script, Hadley written in the pink part with black. We'd gotten them on our left arms where she had a scar from the bullet. Those were her favorite colors.

I heard commotion below and went to get dressed.