“Look who’s here, boys! Your sister,” he said, casting a warm look towards Percy, who seemed to brighten as I approached. His eyes were warm and his hand, curled in on itself, waved a little. He sat beside Blake in his special chair with pads around his waist helping to sit him upright. His hair tickled my cheek as I leaned down to kiss him. I breathed in his clean, crisp scent, knowing it was weird but needing to do it for my self-preservation. Aaron barreled into me, his arms squeezing around me as I lifted him up and swung him around.
“Cami! You’re here!” He grinned as I put him down and sat on his chair, pulling him onto my lap. At seven years old, he was too big and almost at the point of being too cool for me to haul him into a cuddle, but I couldn’t help myself. I needed to soak up both of their essences.
“How are my gorgeous bros today?” I asked, nudging Aaron to finish his sandwich. He gave me a gap-toothed smile and puffed out his chest.
“I’ve beaten Blake twice already. I’m an UNO master,” he declared confidently. Blake sighed, his eyes twinkling.
“Percy felt like having a bit of sun this morning, so I thought a few games might make it even better.”
Percy couldn’t hold the cards as cerebral palsy made the movement challenging, but with Blake’s help he could join in. Failing that, he loved to watch, and from the brightness in his eyes and the warmth in his cheeks I could tell he was having a great morning. He let out a few slow garbles and I nodded, knowing what he was asking me.
“I brought presents!” I pulled two soft toys from my bag. They were both wild for Pokémon and these had been my go to presents for them since they were old enough to care. I had a Snorlax for Aaron and a Psyduck for Percy. They were getting a little old for soft toys, but since these were the last ones I would be able to gift them, I didn’t think it would matter too much. I tucked Percy’s in his arm and he gave me a look of pure pleasure.
“Thanks Cami, Snorlax is so cool,” Aaron said, bouncing his on the stack of UNO cards and making them scatter like the pieces of my heart. I wanted to get up and race from the backyard, but I made myself stay, memorizing the warmth of my brother pressed up against me with his small, wriggling form and big, exuberant smile.
The hours passed by quickly, ending with me asking Blake to take a photo of me and my boys before I left. I held back the tears until I was behind the wheel with the radio turned up loud enough for my sobs to sound less desperate. This was harder than I thought already, but I had no choice. My family needed me to do this.
The hospital was busy when I arrived, and I squeezed into an elevator to go to the second floor. Ma was reading a magazine when I walked in, her chair pressed up against Dad’s bed. I gave her a hesitant smile, avoiding looking at Dad’s sleeping form. She held her arms up and I sank into her embrace, resting my cheek on her shoulder for a moment before pulling away. Perching on the bed, careful not to disturb my deeply sleeping dad, I pulled out a chocolate bar and handed it to her.
“You look like you’ve been crying,” Ma said, her forehead creasing. I gave her a tight smile and shrugged.
“I went to see the boys,” I said, and she nodded.
“I understand,” she whispered as her hand trailed over the bed to grip my knee and give it a quick squeeze. My heart clenched with the movement, enough that my breathing stuttered. This was agony. I wanted to soak up every second of their presence, but I also wanted to be gone, to get it over with.
Dad’s black hair was slick and neat, his face clear of unruly curls. I knew that was Ma’s doing. She kept him looking well-cared for, brushing his hair and even doing his nails for him. She cast a longing look at him with intensity like a magnetic force so strong that my he turned his head in his sleep to face her.
“I wish he was awake. He would love to talk to you.” I clenched my teeth. I timed my visits to when I knew he was going to be sleeping. We hadn’t spoken since he got the infection. I couldn’t stand his injury, but with the infection added in, I could barely look at him. He should be striding into the kitchen with a cheeky smile, sipping a mug of coffee. His large hands, calloused and rough, should be shaping wood, not lying idle in a hospital bed. His veins were too pronounced, his skin too ashy and there were bruises marring it in strange places where needles and tubes had been inserted.
I pulled a folded piece of paper from my bag and handed it to Ma. “I brought this for him,” I said, watching as she tucked it under the lamp on the side table.
“What’s this one about?” she asked. She never read them before Dad, which made me feel pathetically grateful.
“A bear and wolf go to a bar,” I summarized, and her eyes twinkled When I was younger, I noticed that Dad’s favorite thing about reading the paper was the cartoons. He even had a collection of comics from when he was a child. I had made my own, silly little scribbles that made very little sense. But my dad adored them and requested I draw him more. Over time, it had become a tradition for me to draw him a comic for his birthday. After the accident, I had brought one in every time I visited, like the small pictures might allow me to atone. After I started avoiding visiting when he was awake, they were my way of communicating. To prepare for my departure, I had drawn a stack to put aside. I hoped they would make him smile in my absence.
My dad twitched in his sleep as I shifted on the bed. I didn’t want him to wake up when I was here. I couldn’t face it. Next Wednesday I would be gone, and my family would have everything they needed to build a better life. But I knew the security for their future would be a balm for my absence.
“I’ve got to get to work, Ma,” I said, greedily helping myself to another hug. She clasped her hands in her lap when I finally pulled back.
“You work too much, sweetheart, you look so tired.” She frowned and I sighed.
“We need the money and it helps me keep my mind off things,” I answered, shouldering my bag. My nose wrinkled as I looked around the room, I wouldn’t miss this smell, the searing stench of chemicals and underneath that, the miscellaneous scent of illness, of bodies trapped in beds, sweat laced tubes and lumpy mattresses. Mom’s fingers dragged over dad’s inert hand and her eyes flickered with pity as she sighed.
“It’s not your fault, Camellia. I hope you don’t think that,” she whispered
It was.
“See you tomorrow. I love you, Ma,” I hurried for the door before, smothering the tears that wanted to burst out.
I felt unhinged. I’d read through the contract and I was to present myself at Legion Co. next Wednesday with a small amount of luggage. Not that it mattered. I didn’t care to take anything with me except my family, and that wasn’t a possibility. But I could take photos at least.
The knowledge of what next Wednesday would bring was wreaking havoc on me. The enormity of what I was giving up pressed down on me. I had been drowning for so long, ever since that night when I made the worst mistake of my life. Now I could fix it, but it felt like the hardest choice to make. Stay and watch as my family lost everything? Or leave forever to provide for my family, and hopefully atone for my mistakes.
We could barely afford Blake’s salary, even with a grant from the government. That was due to finish next month. Dad would still be in hospital for the foreseeable future, so his income was out. He didn’t have employment insurance and Ma only had so much leave she could take. The boys deserved to be with our parents without the threat of financial ruin hanging over their heads.
I almost wanted to have a drink to wash away the sense of unraveling I was feeling. Instead, I dressed and went to work where I endured spilled drinks, cleaned vomit from toilets and let gross drunk men paw my ass. I did it all because it was my fault we were in this position. I continued because I deserved the horrible things that happened to me. My family didn’t.