The Sun, The Moon, and Their Stars

42 : Pieces

"I went to the mall," I respond and nervously lift the bag of groceries. "E-er-rands."

She sighs, turns around, and goes back to the chair. "We don't know how to reach you." Her voice is still loud.

Gee, wonder why that is, I say to myself. Then I quietly and slowly make my way down to the kitchen.

Cherry stops texting and follows me. And I arrange the groceries on the dining table, while she watches my every move.

Something is wrong, I can sense it.

My parents aren't here. My brother isn't as well. The car's not in the garage too.

"Where's everyone?" I ask my cousin as I fold the plastic bag into squares.

"They're in the hospital." And she says it as if it's the most obvious thing that I should know right now.

"Why? Who? What happened?"

She sits down on the chair across from me. "It's your father," she whispers. "He collapsed earlier. Kelvin drove them to the city."

I sit down as well.

"Is...is he okay? What happened?"

She shakes her head. "We don't know the details, yet," she says. "Your mother will call as soon as there's an update."

"How did it happen? Where? Should I go to the hospital as well?"

"Your mother's instruction is that you should stay, and that's why we're here."

She avoids my other questions, but I only have to connect the dots to figure it out.

Before I left this afternoon, my father was talking to one of his friends. I heard something about celebrating something, and I also heard my brother's name. When I pass by the veranda a while ago, I saw the half-consumed bottle of hard liquor in a corner.

I look around the kitchen and to my back at the sink. There are two washed drinking glasses resting on its side. My father was unmistakably intoxicated earlier before he collapsed.

But, why don't I feel even the slightest surprise? Not even sympathy? Not even remorse for being apathetic? It's like I've known this is going to happen. And now that it does, instead of feeling bad about it, I kind of feel a bit relieved.

My aunt's phone rings. And we hear her talking to my mother, I assume, for she tells the person on the other end that I'm already home.

Cherry is looking deliberately at her mother, and I understand her worry. She grew up without a father, so mine and our uncle are the closest she has for one.

"It's his heart," my aunt tells us after she hangs up. "He had a heart attack earlier."

Cherry gasps, my aunt sighs, and I just stare at them.

"It's not something major, thank God," my aunt adds. "He's fine."

And Cherry lets out a sigh of relief.

"Is there...something that...I can do for now?" I ask.

"They're taking care of it, Kim," my aunt says. "But things are going to change, that's for sure."

There's something about the way she talks to me. And it doesn't feel good.

Why does it sound like she's blaming me? And why does it feel like this is my entire fault?

***

My mother and brother alternate on hospital duty, and I'm left in the house with either my grandmother or my aunt.