Page 4 of Till Death Do Us Part

I shouldn’t have moved out… I’d thought I’d get some independence and start to build my own life, but all it meant was that I was spending valuable money on rent that could have gone to the family. Mom spent a lot of money on drinks out and lottery tickets, and it was hard to make up the difference, even between working at the library and heading straight from there to my bartending job almost every day. Caitlyn had a lot of hospital bills. Matthew needed help with tuition. Bernard had vet bills.

“I will,” I said. “I’m going to take Bernard for a walk and then I’ll take care of the kitchen, okay? I am really sorry about the money this week.”

Mom didn’t say anything. I almost wished she did. It was the silent disapproval that broke me the most.

Bernard got some of his pep back as I took him out for a walk around the neighborhood, his little tail wagging fast. It was later than I would usually take him out, the sun already down, but I just wouldn’t sleep too much tonight… as long as the family was okay, that was what mattered.

When I got back inside, Caitlyn met me in the living room, sitting with her laptop balanced on her knees, and she lit up, eyes shining. “You made it!” she said, and she set her laptop aside and stood up, a little wobbly—she couldn’t walk more than a room or two without support, but she stumbled over to me and hugged me, her form so small and frail in my arms.

“Hey, Cait,” I said, ruffling her hair. “I wasn’t going to just abandon you! Listen, I…” I lowered my voice. “I know I promised I’d get you that game…”

She shook her head. “It’s fine,” she said quietly. “I heard Mom yelling. You don’t need to worry about me! I’m happy.”

I felt my eyes prickling as I hugged her. She’d grown up so much… it was hard to believe my little baby sister was an adult now, even if only barely. She’d only just turned eighteen a few months ago, and I’d bought her a tablet for her birthday, because of how much I knew she loved drawing on her computer—without much mobility all her life, she’d grown up attached to the computer, her outlet to the outside world.

I just wanted to give her the world. She deserved better than learning to lower her expectations just because I couldn’t give her what she wanted.

“Caitlyn!” Mom’s voice broke the moment, and I steadied Caitlyn’s arm as she looked back at where Mom leaned in through the doorway, clearly a little tipsy on a glass of red wine. “Leave your sister alone. She’s got work to do.”

“Mom,” Caitlyn started, furrowing her brow, and I squeezed her arm.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. I nodded at Mom. “I’m going.”

I guided Caitlyn back to her chair, and I slipped into the kitchen to clean up the mess. Mom was never good at staying on top of the dishes. I scrubbed them all down, cleaned up the junk all around the kitchen and took out the trash, wiped down the counters, and right when I was finishing sweeping the floor, I got a lightheaded flush. I clutched the broom for support before I staggered against the wall, holding onto it and breathing hard while my senses came back to normal.

Not again. This had been getting worse and worse. I was just so tired, and I felt burned across every part of my body… there wasn’t much left of me to give. But I had to. I’d make it through this week, do a little overtime, and then we’d be okay. I could make up the missing money to Mom, I could get Caitlyn her game, and maybe I could even take a day off next weekend.

The rush passed, and I finished cleaning the floors before I headed out. Caitlyn caught me at the doors, leaning on the side table for support—Mom had never really set up the house for her wheelchair, so she’d gotten good at figuring out which touching-down points she could land at while she maneuvered around the house.

“Are you okay?” she said, and I forced a smile.

“I’m good. Look after yourself first, okay?” I mussed her hair again. “See you next time.”

“Sorry about Mom…”

I shook my head. “She’s just doing her best to look after you two. It’s tough to be a single parent.”

She looked skeptical, but she still hugged me. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I realized once I was out the door waiting for the bus that the hug had been a tactical maneuver—when I took my wallet from my pocket, a small envelope came with it, and I opened it, my heart breaking as I pulled the note out. Caitlyn’s neat handwriting, and a twenty-dollar note.

I got paid a little bit for an art commission I could only do thanks to that tablet, so I owe you this!

P.S. please don’t give it to Mom. I’ll find out if you do.

I clutched the bill and the note in my hand together, crumpling them both, as tears stung in my eyes. The bus was pulling up, and I couldn’t cry.

Caitlyn. My little kid sister—only barely not a kid anymore—had to give me money. I was supposed to be looking after her.

The poor girl didn’t need to be growing up so fast. I fought the tears the whole bus ride back, and I worked through in my head what to do with it. If I spent it on my groceries, I could pay back that extra money to Mom sooner… I wouldn’t technically be giving the money to Mom. I still didn’t know how I’d look Caitlyn in the eye after any of this.

Except that while I was walking from the bus stop back to my place, I felt something pulling in my chest when I saw through the window of the secondhand shop, a display with the most beautiful dress up on a mannequin, and like it was fated, a tag on it for only twenty dollars. It was such a gorgeous thing, and my chest ached wondering when the last time I bought clothes was. I only ever bought what would be practical for work. I didn’t need a beautiful, flowy white gown like that one.

But maybe Caitlyn would be happy to see me in it, knowing it had been her gift to me. Maybe it was the least I could do for her. Maybe I could just work an extra shift somewhere…

My heart pounded as I reached for the door, but just when my fingers touched the wood grain of the handle, it settled in me what I was doing. I couldn’t buy a dress. That money needed to go towards food, housing, medicine.