Where is his care team?
Anya
Too busy, Arden.
I run a hand over my face. He’s been in a long-term care home for a while now, but it’s the cheapest one that my hometown has to offer. Three girls in their twenties can’t afford those nice, beautiful places with significantly better care. Medical care isn’t cheap. It costs a lot to be ill or to die in this country.
I might have a very strained, non-existent relationship with my father, but I’m still a nurse, and he’s still my dad. I don’t want him to suffer, and I want him to be in a home where the staff have the time and the resources to take care of him.
But I’m not made of money. I pay eighty percent of the bills for him, most of the time. Unless Anya and Serena can up their contributions, there isn’t much more I can do.
I could move home, I guess. Move back into my old room inthat house without a mortgage, and shovel all my extra cash toward his care.
I know that’s what my sisters want. I wouldn’t have to pay rent, we’d all save money on food and utilities, and we’d become one big, unhappy family. But I can’t go back. Leaving is the one thing I’ve ever done for myself, and it’s the only reason I haven’t completely lost my mind.
I’m holding onto my sanity with a white-knuckled grip.
Me
I’ll call and talk to them.
And I will. They hate me there, and I hate being the nurse who barks orders and complaints at other nurses, but it’s my father. I expect them to care for him while he is there, because he is incredibly ill and that is their job.
Anya
Don’t imagine it’ll do much good.
I roll my eyes. Ever the fucking optimist.
Anya is the baby. She gives me the most shit and resents me the most for leaving. Her comments are nothing new, and neither is her pessimism. I feel for her. Being forced to grow up is hard, and knowing you’re going to be an orphan sooner rather than later isn’t any easier. I’ve been there.
Me
I’ll let you know what they say.
Anya
Why don’t you come home for once and talk to them face-to-face?
I swallow, glaring at the screen. Because I can’t fuckingaffordit, Anya.
Me
Soon.
Anya
Right. I’ll see you when we bury Dad.
I shut my eyes, ignoring the stab of pain that explodes through my chest at that jab. I know I’m hurting them and I hate doing it. I miss them as much as they miss me, but I left so that I don’t start resenting them as much as they resent me.
Sometimes, I want to scream at the top of my lungs thatI had nobody!
They had me. They had each other. I didn’tgetto have sisters, I had little girls to raise. I was only a couple of years older than them. I didn’t have a mother to go to or a father to lean on. I was eleven, and I was forced to do and feel everything on my own. For them. To protect them. To spare them one ounce of the pain I was enduring.
When my father would hold Anya, run his fingers through her dark hair and stare at those blue eyes, I’d hate her for a moment.
When he’d laugh with Serena, a sound I only heard when he was with her, I’d walk to the bathroom, lock the door, and cry.
