I hadn't seen mom after that. Dad came home, sullen, obviously gotten the news. Penny seemed okay, but those eyes were as empty as our apartment felt like. It was a ghostly feeling, sitting there in my room after I made dinner for us all. It felt so cold without my mother. I hadn't noticed, but it seemed like the homey warmth and noise was always coming from her. She was the source. I didn't realize it until then. Until it was too late.
She had left.
And that left me feeling indifferent. So this was my future? Looking after my little sister, my cancerous dad, my empty home, while struggling with my own life? My own crisis? Was this the way I was supposed to live?
Did baba even work anymore? Had he gotten fired? I was scared to know I probably had to have the responsibility of bills and getting the food on the table. In a frantic haze I went out of my room to get some water. Baba sat in the dining area. He was drinking coffee.
I halted, turned to him and simply stood. He was a crooked little thing. Hallow now, as if life was drawn out of him.
I cleared my throat and those dark orbs traveled slowly to mine. He raised his eyebrows.
"Did you get fired?"
Baba sighed, nursing the cup in his palms. "No." He exhaled. "They understood my reasons."
I sat down before him. "What happened? What's going on? Are you really sick?"
Baba looked down his cup and I imagined that the dark liquid was as dark as his eyes. He was breathing heavily, and he seemed tired. Old. Very old.
"I was taking painkillers for my back. Pancreatic cancer is lethal especially when noticed late. And in my case," Baba looked at me. "I was too late."
"Your...pancreas?"
"An organ located here." My father gestured to his abdomen. "Anyway, I wasn't fired. But it doesn't matter. I'm going to quit."
"What, why?"
"Why?" Baba looked at me. "Because I'm dying. And I want to spend time with my family until that one day comes."
"But, there's chemo. And there's lots of other-"
"No." He sighed. "No it's too late. If I'm lucky I'll be alive until next summer. Anything after that would be a miracle."
"You don't believe in miracles." I huffed, feeling deflated. "You believe in hard work and dedication. You believe in never giving up."
"You don't know what you're talking about." My father held the cup sternly.
"I know what I see, and I am watching my hero giving up."
"Well," Baba said submissively. He took a sip before gazing at me amused. "Cancer does that to you. Giving up, that is."
"Have you seen her at least?" I talked into the phone. I could hear my brother sigh, a deep exhale that gave me the answer before he had even spoken.
"I've been everywhere. Even our relatives got no idea. But she has to show up some time. You and I, sure she could leave. But what about Penny?"
"She's stupid. Stupid people don't care whether they leave their five year old."
"Don't call our mother that. Look at it from her side."
I narrowed my eyes and if Alex could see me he'd shiver.
"You sound like baba. And I have. Her perspective, mildly said, is the worst perspective that even a blind man would turn it down as ludicrous. Alex, I got school and then I have to work on some project. Could you pick me up at the library?"
"Sure thing, call me when you're done."
"Thanks." I lowered the phone and hit a button. Then I saw to it that Penny was up and ready. She was, thank the Gods for that. Clothes on and bag ready, only her stomach left to finish. She was going to spend her week at my aunt Dana. We thought it'd be best for her. And if she didn't like it there we could pick her up and go home again. She hasn't complained. But she did have a permanent frown on her face. Ever since she got the news, there had been a change in her.
"Alright," I bent down to her level, trying to send a smile that would at least put her in a better state of mind. "What do you want for breakfast?"
She shrugged. A complex shrug, done by one part of her body that seemed so impossibly heavy that she barely could lift her shoulders. Her hazel orbs met mine lazily and I was scared to find out that they looked watery.
"Come," I grabbed her hand and turned away. Partially because if I looked any deeper into those childish, innocent eyes I'd break down. "Cereal. You love cereal."
We sat us down and I poured her a bowl of milk and crunchy chocolate flakes. And she ate wordlessly, her eyes concentrated on the spoon she currently held loosely. If she didn't grip it, it would fall.
I grabbed an orange and started peeling it.
"Avery?"
I stiffened. "Yeah?"
An orange piece fell to the floor and I reached for it. Slowly, taking my precious time.
"Don't cry."
My fingers were about to grab it, there were just half an inch away. I straightened myself tall, looking at my little sister softly. I tried to smile.
"I'm not crying?"
Her fragile posture straightened to match mine. And then she smiled as well. Mimicking me.
"Baba said that tears come in many forms," her voice was slick with innocence. "Smiles are frowns in disguise, and laughing is a pretty way of saying you feel sad."
"Baba...told you that?"
"Avery."
My lips trembled as I saw her smile widen, and a little laugh escape her. Her shoulders were shaking.
"I'm...crying now."
I went to school feeling like shit. After I had my father drop Penny off, he drove me to Chamston looking as sourly as I felt. He kissed me goodbye and I gave him a hug. Both gestures felt plastic to me. Stiff and just a forced act. Forced to comfort us. Forced to make light of our tragedies.
I went through the doors though I'd love nothing to crawl back into my father's lap. Hold him tight and listen to his beating heart. A sound I'd never thought I'd cherish.
By my locker stood Nove. It seemed he somehow knew something was wrong and immediately gave me a hug. I haven't told him the news. He deserved to know. He must know so this hug could be tighter. But something else got tighter. My throat. My tongue unwillingly clenched itself. Locking the words in. And instead, I just sniffed the greenery scent from his shirt.
He let me go carefully. His blue eyes having a comfort in them. And somehow I felt better.
"Thanks."
He nodded and left me. And I was thankful. Because Nove knew whenever I was like this, I'd be burden and would want everyone to stay away until I came to them. Like a scared, upset kitten.
And that's exactly why he was my best friend.
I grabbed my books, slammed the locker and turned to see Drake leaning on the neighboring locker. His front towards me and his grin widening by the sight of me.
And I didn't smile back.
"My mother left me." I told him.
He sucked in his lips, as if regretting that he had grinned.
"Aha." He nodded. "Dad has cancer. Mother leaves. That's tragic."
You'd think, that with a humored voice like his would tick me off. That I should shun him for saying it so lightly. But he had an honest soul. Truthfully, the whole thing seemed hilarious. And the corners of my lips went up softly.
"And Penny told me that smiling is crying."
He stepped forward, slowly.
"And Baba said he'd have less than a year left."
He nodded, taking another step.
"And I am befriending someone who absolutely hates my existence."
Drake tilted his head, smiling apologetically as he nodded. He was ten inches away.
"My mother....left me?" I repeated. I was about to say it once more. Just to realize that I had been abandoned.
But Drake cut me off by embracing his strong arms around me. And I knew people were watching. And I knew this could be taken in a wrong way. And I knew this guy had feelings for me. Feelings I currently couldn't return. And I knew this was wrong.
But I felt safe. And I felt as if I just disappeared into his scent of home and everything good, if I only stood still where I am, if I could somehow stop time, I would. I would forever be lost in his arms of safety. I wouldn't have another care in the world. I could be infinitely indifferent.
"I'm turning into one of those sappy girls who keeps on complaining about their lives and tragedies and depression and whatnot." I chuckle into his arm.
Drake starts to shake. And with a hearty laughter he says; "God no, you're way too pretty for that."