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After breakfast, we wandered around Main Street, going in and out of shops. Mom bought both Eli and me a stack of books from the book shop. Once he had his, he found a bench to read on while we went into a clothing store. I kept catching sight of him through the window, and even though he was reading, there was something about the curl of his shoulders that filled me with worry. Since my mom was deep in conversation with the clerk without any sign of ending anytime soon, I went outside and sat beside my giant of a little stepbrother.
He looked up from his book when I patted his knee. “What’s the story, morning glory?” I asked.
His mouth quirked. “Don’t know. Why don’t you tell me the tale, nightingale?”
“How’s Max, Eli?”
My mom continued to be vague and cheerful when it came to her husband’s prognosis. She’d done the same thing when she and my dad were divorcing, so I didn’t trust anything out of her mouth when it came to big, potentially disastrous happenings. She did it to protect me, but I didn’t need protection, not in this case. I needed the truth.
With a heavy sigh, Eli closed his book and slid it back in his bag. “What’s your mom told you?”
“She’s remaining optimistic.” I flicked my hand toward the store I’d just come from. “You know her. She keeps it all tucked away until she can’t.”
He nodded, but his movements were sluggish, as if the burden he carried made his movements difficult.
“She’s taking really good care of him. My mom would have freaked out. I mean, she is freaking out and she kind of hates my dad, you know? But Felicity is so steady, all the time.”
“My mom’s good that way. She does better when she has a task to focus on.” I bumped his arm with my shoulder. “You didn’t answer my question, though. How’s Max?”
Bending forward, he clutched his head in his hands. “He’s sick. Really, really sick.”
I laid my hand on his back. “Is it the chemo? Is that making him sick?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. There was one morning Felicity had to run out to pick up a prescription so it was just me and my dad. He started gagging and coughing and couldn’t stop. I stood there, Zadie. I didn’t know what to do. My dad was doubled over, barely able to take in air, and I just stood there.” He choked out the last few words, and I heard his tears, even if he wouldn’t show me.
“Eli...he’s okay. He recovered from that incident, he doesn’t blame you, and I’m sure he hated you seeing him like that as much as you hated seeing it.”
“I should have helped him.”
“You will. Next time. You’ll be better prepared, right?”
The deep, mournful sob he let escape brought tears to my eyes. I laid my head on his shoulder, murmuring words of comfort, telling him it would be okay, that I would be there for him however he needed me. Keeping his face hidden, he swiped his tears away. Eli might have been a giant, but he was really just a kid, and this was a lot. Even if Max recovered, living through this illness, seeing his dad wasn’t invincible, would forever change Eli.
“I think he’s going to die, Zadie.”
“Babe…” My heart crammed in my throat. “Is that…? Mom said his prognosis is—”
“I don’t know what the doctors are saying. My dad is just...sometimes, I think he’s fading.” He got up from the bench and tore down the sidewalk, and I chased after him. I couldn’t leave him alone, not like this.
“Eli, stop!” I called. “Please, just wait for me.”
He slowed down enough for my short legs to catch up with him. I grabbed his forearm, tugging until he stopped. His cheeks were rosy. His eyes were watery and bloodshot.
“It’s okay to be scared,” I whispered.
He shook his head sharply. “Felicity and Dad don’t need to deal with my stuff on top of everything else.”
“Then call me. Text me. Ask Mom to drive you to see me. No matter what, I’m your big sister, and I’m here, okay? I really mean it.”
He stared at me for a long time, his eyes so wet, they drew my own tears to the surface. Then he let loose a pained exhale and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand.
“If he dies, promise me you won’t go away.” His nose twitched, and he looked at the sidewalk. “Promise we’ll still be family.”
I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could. He curled around me, returning my hug with the same kind of fervor.
“I’m yoursister. Your kids are going to be my nieces and nephews, and I expect you to be my kids’ favorite uncle. That doesn’t go away, no matter what.” I pinched the skin on his back. “I’m mad at you for asking me that.”
His laugh was closer to a sob, but that was okay. At least he was laughing and hugging me and not crying and running away.
Just as suddenly as I’d thrown myself at him, I was yanked backward, out of his arms, into the chest of someone else. My skin prickled when a low, menacing voice whispered in my ear.
“Zadie Night, you’ve been a bad, bad girl.”
