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“Stop worrying, sis. Everything is going to be okay.” Erin’s voice was heavy with the same worry I had. She understood the odds and also that our father’s rallying and acting as if he felt better would be short lived.
The diagnosis had been grim from day one. And he’d recently moved from stage three pancreatic cancer to stage four, remission over, the disease coming back with a vengeance. That was a life sentence one way or the other. It was only a matter of time and that seemed more precious than ever.
“I know. I just… This is just so hard.”
“You’re strong,” she told me. “More so than I am.”
“Not true. What time is your shift at the hospital?”
“Not until nine. You have plenty of time.”
There was that word again. None of us seemed to have enough time for anything.
“I’ll be sure to be back.” I grabbed my jacket, struggling into it. Xena was going with me for one reason. She could tell a bad person from a hundred yards out. If she raced toward them, barking aggressively, then I would toss the asshole out. Deal or no deal. Period.
My father had insisted he drive himself to the site early, wanting to get back into the business since he was feeling better. However, I’d remained lingering behind, now just ready to head out to my battered old truck.
“Mama. When are you coming home?”
The sound of my little boy’s voice always cut through me. He was four going on fifteen, I would swear to God. I had my hand on the doorknob, barely able to keep the tears from flowing. He hated it when I left for the rig. Even though I came home every couple of weeks for a day or so, that wasn’t enough time spent with my growing little boy.
I plastered a smile on my face, the little woofing Xena was doing her effort to try to cheer me up. I immediately crouched down, beckoning Aiden. He hesitated, swaying back and forth like his father used to do. My son was the spitting image of my dead husband, only in much younger form. But his sweet face was a constant reminder of everything I’d lost.
And was bitter about.
When he finally flew into my arms, I couldn’t seem to stop shaking for some reason. Even if it was determined the folks my father had asked to help were on board, the project wasn’t scheduled to start for a few days. However, Aiden had started to become sad before I left, more so the older he got since he’d started to understand I would be gone for an extended period of time.
I cradled him close, giving him a tight bear hug. “I’m just going to a meeting, little bug. And you know what I’m doing after that?”
“What?” He pulled away, his little fingers clutching my shirt.
“I’m going to the grocery store and if you’re a very good boy for your auntie, I’ll get you your favorite mac and cheese and ice cream. Would you like that?”
“Ice cweam? Yes! Mommy. Mommy. Mommy.”
Oh, how I loved to hear him call me his mommy and to see the delight in his eyes. He was such a little bundle of joy, although I could still see sadness swirling with the delight. He’d never known his father, although he kept a picture of Finn on his nightstand and I was already telling him some of my favorite stories. All he’d ever known was his mommy’s sadness and his grandpops being so sick he couldn’t play with his own grandson.
I felt as if I couldn’t give my boy what he needed and deserved, and it was killing me.
“You are so special, baby. Why don’t you play in your room for a little while. Who knows. Maybe Mommy can find a special treat for her perfect little bug.”
He spun around in a circle, clapping his hands as only a kid could do. At least I could still bring a smile to his face.
“You’re so good with him,” Erin said as I stood.
I pulled the hair from the collar of my jacket, grabbing my keys from the beaten-up old wooden table by the back door. “I’m just surviving. Remember that.”
“Surviving still looks good on you. Now, go and stop worrying. I’ll make his basketti for dinner.”
Second only to mac and cheese, my son adored Erin’s spaghetti. I blew her a kiss, mouthing ‘thank you’ as Aiden danced around the kitchen. When I walked out, my heart felt heavy. Why was this so damn difficult? “Come on, Xena. You can keep me company, my sweet baby girl.”
She snorted then sneezed, trotting her cute little butt toward the truck, pawing the ground in impatience before I opened the door letting her in. For some reason, I studied the house that both Erin and I had grown up in, the one where so many happy memories had been made.
Sad ones too.
I wondered if Dad was going to lose the house. It was tied to the note on the rig, which had been necessary given the number of bills insurance hadn’t covered, but I’d advised against it. My father almost never listened to me.
After jumping in, I rubbed Xena’s head, hating the apprehension staying just below the surface.
