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Warren:I’m at the feed store. Be there in 5.
“The weather is lovely, isn’t it?” Mom says as she sets down a plate of brownies on the coffee table.
Dad’s in his favorite chair, the one perfectly situated in front of the TV for football season. I’m leaning back on the old floral couch that I’ve never managed to convince them to take to the dump. We had some chili and talked over Mom’s little health-related secret.
Warren comes through the front door a few minutes later and kicks off his filthy boots so they don’t track dirt in the house. He plops down next to me and grabs two big gooey brownies. “So what’s going on?” He mumbles through a mouth full of chocolate.
Mom pulls at her dangling earring and looks to me.
“Mom has sleep apnea but hasn’t visited a doctor to treat it for the past year. When it finally got to where she couldn’t sleep at all, she made an appointment and they suggested surgery on her soft palate to fix it,” I blurt out in a single breath.
Warren chokes for a second and brings his fist to his mouth until he can swallow his brownie. “Excuse me?”
“Told you they’d freak out,” Dad mumbles. He’s half asleep after working all day and then eating half his weight in Mom’s cooking.
“It’s not a big deal!” Mom defends herself. “I didn’t want to worry you two. You both have better things to do than fuss over your old Mama.”
“Are you getting the surgery?” I demand.
She looks off to the side and squints her eyes.
I hold my hand out toward her but look at Warren. “A little help here?”
“Mom what do we need to do to help?” he steps in and asks.
“We’re saving up for it is all.”
I see Dad rub his temples from the corner of my eye. I realize that this isn’t a life-threatening sickness. Her doctor has suggested a solution, and it will help her get back the quality of life that only sleep can achieve. I should be happy that it isn’t anything more serious. But I know that surgeries aren’t cheap. I cringe inwardly at the thought of them having to pinch pennies or wait to do something that is going to help her so much.
I’ve seen my parents work their tails off all of my life. I’m incredibly proud of that. We’ve never gone without food or a roof over our heads, and they’ve always done whatever they could to provide the necessities. But they don’t have high-paying jobs. They don’t come from wealth and they’ve never acquired it either.
I look down at my arm where the burn scar is. A chilling reminder of the night I left a candle burning in my new room. In our new house. In a new neighborhood. It all went down in flames because of me. Insurance was no help at all.
Mom and Dad were left with a mountain of debt, a loss of all their belongings, and a dead dream. They gave everything to get that house. And I not only put my family in danger that night, but I cemented their fate. Back to the trailer we went.
Since that day, I made a promise to them and to myself that I would get them out of here. Buy a house, pay their bills, let them rest. Live the remainder of their lives in peace and absent of financial stress.
“I will pay for the surgery, and you will call your doctor tomorrow to schedule the soonest appointment. Maybe they can do it within the next few weeks? I’ll be here and I’ll take care of you.”
“B—” Warren cuts in. I hold a hand up to him and he sighs. He knows better than to argue with me on things like this.
No protests from my parents. They learned a long time ago when I started sending little bits of money here and there that Iwantto help them. And I won’t take no for an answer. I haven’t been able to help them as much as I’d like to yet. Being a full-time student brings a whole new meaning to the wordsdirt poor.
I don’t know how, but I’ll figure it out. I always do.
I’m happy that my mom seems to be in good spirits and that there’s a way to help her get better sleep. Hopefully soon. But right now, it’s getting late and my nerves are shot.
I stand to give her a big hug. Being able to hug her is one of the things I miss most about living here. It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to do this whenever I feel like it instead of having to hop on a plane and pause my entire life just for a hug. My Dad reaches his hand out for me, I take it, and he pulls me in to give me a wink and a kiss on the cheek.
“Love you,” he says.
“Love you more,” I smile.
“Not possible!” He yells as Warren and I make our way to the door.
Mom leans against the door and touches both of our faces before sighing. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you kids, but I want you to know how happy I am to have you both here.”Me tooI want to say back to her. But I don’t want to give her false hope and risk her getting used to the idea.
Warren puts his arm around my shoulder. “You ready?”
