Catch 22

36

Everything was fine at first.

Well it wasn't fine, but it was as okay as I could have expected after returning home from tour more than six weeks early.

I'd come home a mess of tears and resigned to spend the next month sulking in my room while simultaneously trying to get a job at the local music venue to help pay the bills. I'd voided my contract but had been compensated for the work I'd completed giving me about six grand which would help Kate out for a while, but not forever.

Our mother had had life insurance but all of that money had gone towards helping to finance my transplant and the remaining we'd used to pay off the house so we wouldn't have to worry about becoming homeless. Kate was responsible that way and she had managed to make our meager earnings the past few years stretch out.

When Miller died the hospital had paid for his funeral expenses and given us a small settlement that had helped to cover some bills while Kate was on maternity leave. We were making it but we definitely weren't swimming in money.

Money had become the least of my problems last week.

It has started simply. I'd chocked the fatigue, weight gain and swollen ankles up to stress and exhaustion from the tour and the subsequent loss of my job.

I'd woken up on Monday with whole body aches, shivering and shaking from the chills encompassing my body and called for Kate.

She'd rushed to my room and instantly gone into mothering mode.

We'd thought it was the flu. We'd really fucking hoped it was the flu.

But deep down, I knew it wasn't.

•

"Sage, we gotta go!" Kate yells to me and I roll my eyes and tug my comforter tighter around my body. Even within extra quilt and layers I'm still freezing.

Fuck this body. Fuck my life.

I've spent the last week being especially retrospective. In all reality I've been hiding. I had put Kate in charge of my phone and social media and taken the time to decompress after the past few months.

It's not so hard to do a ton of thinking when you're spending multiple hours a day in a hospital chair.

"Sage get the fuck up!"

"Mmmmm." I groan and I hear her heavy footsteps as she approaches my bed.

"Up. Now!" She says loudly pulling my covers back and I gasp from the feeling of the cold air washing over me.

"Jesus Kate!" I say coldly.

"You're going to be late. I still have to drop Copeland at daycare and get to work."

"I don't understand why I just can't drive myself." I grumble.

"Ask your damn doctor, not me. Stop being a pain I've already got one kid to deal with I can't add you as a second. There's cereal in the pantry!" She calls behind her as she heads for Cope's room to get her ready.

I sit up slowly, my whole body hurts. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand, wobbly on my feet.

I hate feeling like I'm not in control of my own body.

I stagger towards the closet and discard my leggings, instead I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie of Calum's I had stolen as I left the tour. He wasn't mad about it and he'd told me I should have taken a few of his shirts as well when we'd talked right after I'd left.

I miss him, but I can't face him. Not when I'm like this.

I slip into my slide on Vans and head downstairs. Kate already has Cope dressed and in her high chair with a banana and a bib by the time I reach the breakfast table.