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Chapter One
Declan
I’veneverlikedthesmell of hospitals, the only time I managed to bear the weird smell of antiseptic and cleaning products was when Eli was born ten years ago.
Holding the newborn in my arms and feeling its tiny hands wrap around my fingers has remained a core memory for me. As I walk down the long, bright hallway this Wednesday morning, with a somber-looking Eli by my side, I hope that this visit does not completely ruin that memory for me.
"Do you think he's going to die?" Eli's question comes up as we near the patient’s room door that the nurse had informed us my father has been admitted.
I turn to look at Eli, whose expression is one mixed with fear and trepidation. He looks so much younger than ten. For all he has lived through to this point, he still is so sheltered and innocently naïve in many ways.
"I don't think he's going to die, Buddy," I respond, trying to infuse as much cheer as I can into my voice.
Eli looks like he wants to say something, but we are already at the door, which, as I raise my hands to knock, is pulled open by my mother, wearing a look of relief even though there are dark circles under her eyes, indicating that she had not slept last night.
"Oh, thank God," Mother starts at the sight of me.
When her eyes move to Eli, her smile grows wider. She moves forward and takes both of his cheeks in her hands, squeezing them fondly.
"How are you, my little munchkin?"
"I'm fine, Grandma."
I watch the pre-teen look around, as if afraid that someone had witnessed the exchange, his now-released cheeks, stained red.
"You don't have to hold me like that now, Grandma. I am grown up."
Eli's hands are shoved deep in his pocket, the same way his favorite video game character, Thiago, does in an attempt to look cool.
I bite back a laugh when my eyes meet those of my mother, who is wearing a look of surprise.
"Well, you're my little munchkin, I'm going to hold you as I always have. Now, come and say hi to Grandpa."
We follow Mother into the bright room, my heart skipping when my eyes locate Father's form on the bed. Luckily, he doesn't appear strapped down by various machines as I'd been afraid would happen.
"Hi, Dad."
"Oh, I hate bright lights," he groans, his eyes fluttering rapidly as he brings his hands over his eyes to block out some of the rays of the fluorescent lights.
"He was asleep," Mother says as she leans toward him.
"You all act like I'm already dead," comes Father's voice from the bed, tinged with irritation.
I chuckle, moving toward the bed with Eli, which Father beckons forward.
"Hi, Grandpa," Eli grins, sitting gingerly on the side of the bed and looking down at his hands, encased in Father's.
"Hello, Grandson," Father responds, his eyes filled with affection as he gazes at Eli. "Is it just me, or have you grown taller?"
"I'm much taller now," Eli states, in the cockiness that has been coming out more and more lately. Mother and I break into light laughter at his announcement. “Dad says he’s gonna have to get a second job 'cause I eat so much.”
“I thought so too! You'll be a grown man in no time."
"That's what Father's friends always say," comes Eli's reply.
"They do, don't they!" Father sounds drowsy now, yawning right after.
"You have to forgive me," he says as he turns his head to the side. "I don't know what the hell I was given; I’m falling asleep every second."
