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I walk over to the fridge and open it up to grab some leftovers. The entire time I move around the kitchen, I can feel their eyes on me.
“What’s up?” I ask them after popping a Tupperware full of sausages and beans into the microwave.
“Your dad and I thought you should know,” Mom begins, “Selena came home early this morning. Back to Derek. She is going to stay by his side through the rest of this and show her support.”
Great, now I’m not hungry anymore. And those beans and sausages had been sounding so good all day while I was at work.
I nod my head. “And you two believe him?”
“We raised him, Brennan.” Dad crosses his arms. “And we raised a good man. I don’t know why you are so quick to believe everyone else’s lies, but Derek isn’t doing what they are all saying.”
“Just because you raised him to be better, doesn’t mean he didn’t turn out badly anyway,” I try to explain. “Who he turned out to be, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have controlled the hatred and anger issues he carries around inside.”
Dad looks angry. “Brennan, if you can’t support your family during a time like this, then I don’t think you are going to be welcome in this house for much longer.”
The microwave beeps, but nobody moves to open it. “You know what? You’re right,” I say. “I’ll start shopping around today. Because if I stay here in this house with you, it’s only going to make me look like Idosupport him. That I’m on his side about all of this. But I’m not. That’s why I beat the shit out of him. Because he deserved it.”
I take my keys off of the hook by the door and leave, slamming it shut behind me.
Looks like I’m having fast food for dinner.
32
DAMASCUS
“Shawn has decided he’s going to be joining our session over video call,” Leah informs our support group the day after New Year’s Day.
I smile as she gets her projector screen set up so that she can call him in.
The rest of the class talks and murmurs in excitement about getting to hear from him, too. A lot of them are only excited because Shawn is a famous artist, but I am excited because I care about him and enjoy speaking with him. Now that Blair and I have stopped fighting, I don’t feel so lousy and grumpy, and I’m doing what I can to stay that way. I think Shawn needs to do this, too.
When Shawn is finally on the screen, everyone waves at him.
Leah has rearranged the circle of chairs today in more of an oval shape so that Shawn’s screen can be a part of it.
“Can you see us all okay?” Leah asks him. Shawn, looking tired and slightly pale, nods.
Leah sits in her chair. “Great,” she says. “Let’s get started then. How has everybody been feeling? Especially with the holiday season?”
To everyone’s astonishment, Shawn is the first one to speak. He usually only said anything if he was called on. “I don’t know how much time I have on here today,” he explained to the class, “so I better get this out. Especially before I change my mind.”
“Alright, Shawn. I love it,” Leah says. “How are you? How was your Christmas and New Year?”
It sucks to see and hear Shawn as progressed into his ALS as he is. Every time I talk to him, he’s worse.
Shawn hangs his head, and the lump that forms in my throat is instant. “It was miserable. I have been a fool.” I’ve never seen him this way. “I have pushed everyone away. Everyone. Not even Eliza is here with me now. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it would be better if they could remember me in more of a healthier light. Nobody wants to be seen like this. Nobody wants to be waited on every second of every day. Especially not when I’m the one who used to do all of the waiting. I was supposed to take care of Eliza. Not the other way around. I was supposed to take care of my kids. My grandkids. Not the other way around—at least not for much,muchlonger than this.”
He paused for a moment before continuing. “I was proud and bitter. And after having a miserable Christmas and spending New Year with only the company of my medical team and my butler, all I want is to go back in time. I just want to do it all over. Even all the bullshit of my disease. I spent too much time hating myself and wanting to keep my sense of pride. Now my time is almost up. And I’ll never be able to make up for the time I’ve wasted.”
There is not a dry eye in the room. Even when I look at Leah, I can tell that she is trying her best to remain composed.
She clears her throat. “Well… that, uh, that seems tough.”
He slowly nods his head. His eyes are bloodshot, and his bottom lip is quivering.
“So then, Shawn, you know what you have to do, right?” I ask.
“Is that you speaking, Damascus?” Shawn asks. “What do I have to do?”
