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“It was wonderful. Is your father in his study?” she asks as she pulls out the vegetable soup she’s been thawing in the fridge and transfers it to a pot to heat it up.
“Yes, he is. I’ve already finished my chores and done my daily reading.”
I tell her this in preparation for what I’ll be asking her and my father during dinner. Today really is the perfect day to ask a hard question. Mom is always in a good mood after her bible study group.
“Set the table Aubrey. Then let your father know dinner is ready,” she says as she stirs the soup.
We’re halfway through dinner when I finally get the courage to ask.
“Mom, Dad–would I be able to get a job in town?” I say, glancing between them for any sign of hope.
Dad speaks up first.
“Why do you need a job? What do you need that your Mother, I and the Lord do not provide?”
“It’s not necessarily for the money. A bakery is hiring someone to do sandwich deliveries and I—I actually think it would be a good way to minister. You know, I’m there to deliver their food and they see God’s light in me and I can share His word with them.”
I don’t enjoy lying to my parents–if there is a God, he and I both know I have no intentions of trapping anyone else in a religious hell–but if I don’t figure out a way to make some money, I’ll never be able to leave this house.
Mom and Dad stare at each other for a long moment. Mom won’t answer. The decision is up to Dad and we all know this. He’s the patriarch of the family. Rather than waiting for him to mull it over further, I try to sweeten the deal.
“I also thought I could use the money to go on a ministry trip next year.”
Another lie.
“We will pray about it,” he finally says and continues eating his soup.
It’s not a no. I try to hide my smile and my hope by taking another spoonful of soup.
Chapter three
Emmett
WhenIwakethenext morning, there are half a dozen people standing around in my hospital room.
“What the hell?” I say, taking everyone and everything in.
They all yellsurprisein unison.
Every one of them is here in my room. My parents and my sister. Ender, Madison and Ender’s Mom. Taylor and Jesse. All the people I love the most. The people who have gotten me through these past few months.
I laugh and climb out of bed and start giving out hugs to everyone.
I get to Ender and pause, clamping one hand on his shoulder.
“I’m assuming this is your doing?”
“We wanted you to blow out of this joint in style,” he says, before bringing me in for a hug.
Ender is seldom a bro-hug kind of guy. He always gives big, warm hugs with both arms wrapped around you. He knows more than anyone how important it is to show the people you love, exactly how much you love them.
Ender’s mom is standing next to him. Mrs. Adler was one of the first people to know about my diagnosis. She works here at the hospital and was on a shift in the emergency room when I was brought in. I give her an extra long hug and can’t help but think back to that night.
It all started off normal enough. Mom, Dad, Emily and I were all sitting around the kitchen table; eating and laughing. I’d been a little more sore than normal, but I thought I’d pushed too hard at football practice. Then suddenly it felt like someone took a hot knife to my spine. The pain was so intense and unbearable that I vomited all over one of Mom’s expensive rugs.
Next thing I knew, I was in the emergency room and they were running a million tests. It’s all a little hazy because as soon as I arrived, they doped me up on morphine. I remember begging Mrs. Adler the next day to not tell Ender or anyone else. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to admit to myself that I had cancer–having to admit it to my friends felt impossible.
It takes a while to change my clothes. I’m not as sick as I was when I was on chemo and radiation, but I’m still moving slowly. When I come out of the hospital room bathroom, I sling my arm around my little sister as all the people who love me most in this world follow me outside. Hopefully for my last exit.
