"What did the doctor say?" I asked. I needed toknow.
"I'm sorry, Baby." Her words were a whisper that cut me to the core. I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping the pain would keep me from floating away or being crushed by the impending wave of desolation. "I'm trying," she said. She stopped, her eyes filling with tears. I held her hand, squeezing it tight. "I forget, you know I change – he said I probably shouldn't take my normal medication anymore. He gave me a new prescription. I hope it works. I'm just so tired, Baby. The chemo makes my bonesache."
"I love you, Mom. Whatever happens, I'll make sure you're okay." I took a breath, deciding to tell her a piece of the guys' offer, hoping it would ease her a little bit. I had a choice to make and I hoped I was making the rightone.
"I got a job offer," I said with a small smile. "It looks like it'll have a decent income." I had to trust that the guys would keep their promises and would help. If they wanted me, this was my price, I decided. "You can go into a nice facility if you want. You don't have to, but I'm sure they would be able to take care of you better than I can. I'm gone most of the time and I know you need someone..." I trailed off, guilt eating the rest of mywords.
"It's not your fault, Baby." Her hands tightened on mine. "But I'm so proud of you. A job? I didn't know you were applying to new places." Her head hung low in shame, as if not knowing about my life was a crime. Most of the time, she didn't know her ownlife.
"I didn't apply," I assured her. "Alex – my boss – suggested it and recommendedme."
"What isit?"
"Recruitment, I think." I realized that I truly had no clue what they wanted from me. Even if I did, I suspected they wouldn't want me to go around telling everyone. She nodded her head, eyes boring holes into the table, once again losing the light inthem.
"Maybe you should call Michael. He'll help you when the time comes, he knows all of those legaldocuments."
"Mom–"
"I'm tired, Baby," she interrupted me. "I think I'll go lay down." I didn't know what to say, so I nodded and let go of her hands when she pulled them away to stand. As soon as she was out of the room, I put my elbows on the table and dropped my head into my palms. It hurt. Everything hurt. Somuch.
When I crawled into bed later that night, after a somber day of cleaning and studying – though I could hardly keep my attention on any one thing – I stayed awake. I decided to cancel our home phone after programming my brother's phone into my cell and called to tell him about Mom. He hadn't seemed happy, but there hadn't been any real sadness behind his promise to visit if anything should happen. My head ached thinking aboutit.
I stared at my ceiling, the fan attached to the light cast shadows against the wall. My bedroom was a dark and mild representation of me as a person; the walls bare and the mismatched furniture all pieces purchased from garage sales or thrift stores. My phone vibrated on thenightstand.
Heaviness weighed over me, spinning in my head, making me dizzy. What would happen in the next year? What would happen in five? Would she still be here? Would I? My phone buzzed again and again, the sound prolonged as someone attempted to call me. I rolled away from it, putting one hand under my head as I curled in onmyself.
Even if Michael did come back, he wouldn't stay. He only called, only talked to me out of some sense of duty. He felt guilty, I knew, for leaving me alone with her. He, himself, had admitted that he couldn't handle her anymore. The phone clattered on the nightstand again, the screen lighting up against the ceiling. I wanted to turn it off, but I didn't have the energy to reach forit.
What would I do when she was gone? I wouldn't go with Michael. He would offer to take me with him, but I couldn't picture it. Would I go to college? What would I go for? I didn't even know what I wanted to do with mylife.
I was so lost in my own thoughts, the scraping at my window startled me back into reality. When the glass slid open, I clambered for the lamp on my dresser, holding it up over my head, my heart pounding. The figure slinking through my window straightened and I lunged, the lamp flying. The cord stuck, but he was close enough that it descended on the stranger'shead.
"Shit!" One arm shot out and knocked the lamp away before it made contact with his face. It crashed to the floor, the fabric top falling off. "Harlow! It’sme!"
I gasped and sank to the floor, one hand clutched over my heart. Marv bent down, breathing heavy. "Jesus," he snapped, wiping his face. His hand came away sticky from a small cut at his hairline. "Were you trying to kill me or something?" hedemanded.
"I'm sorry," I whimpered, my heart still racing. Tears burned my eyes, and relief flooded me. I tried to shove them back because now that the pressure in my mind had popped, they kept coming. I gasped forbreath.
"Hey, hey, hey, none of that." Marv knelt down in front of me, fingers running over my brow, down my cheeks and my jaw line. "I didn't mean to scare you so bad. I just needed to get in to see you. Didn't you get our texts? We tried tocall."
"I was in bed." My hands shook so much that he had to lift me up and deposit me on the bed before retrieving the lamp to put it back on mydresser.
"If I had known you were going to attack me when I came in, I might have rethought ringing the front doorbell." He sat next to me. "Are youokay?"
"I'm fine." My grip on the blankets hid my trembling as he sighed and leaned back, his big body taking up more than half thebed.
"No, you're not," he said. "What's wrong? Your mom had her appointment today. Is thatit?"
"How do you know that?" I hiccupped and wiped my nose with a corner of the blankets clutched in my fists. "How do you, Knix, Bellamy, and Texas know everything in my life? That's not fair. If you're allowed to dig into my private affairs, yours should be free gametoo."
"Whoa." He sat up. "I'm an open book. You can know anything you want aboutme."
"What'sIris?"
"Anything but that," he amended. I growled in frustration and he grinned. "Technically, that's not specific to me, so you can't call me aliar."
My urge to hit something swelled. I stood from the bed to face him. "Why are youhere?"