A huge colonial-style house appears in the darkness. It seems like the lights are on in every room in the house, illuminating the darkness surrounding it.
There is a circle driveway with a fountain in the middle. It’s currently frozen but I can imagine how it looks in the spring.
“What is this?” I ask, my eyes taking it all in. I’ve never seen anything like this. In the city there are only buildings and pavement, and that’s about it.
Nixon turns toward me, finally looking at me. The haunted look is still in his eyes. I don’t know what I expect him to say, but it surely isn’t the words that leave his mouth.
“This is my home.”
Chapter Fifteen
NIXON
Yasmin’s mouth falls open at my revelation, but I don’t stick around to see what she has to say. Parking the car, I quickly turn it off before I jump outside and run up the stairs. The front door swings open, and my sister’s crying face greets me. She runs to my arms, burrowing her head into my neck, and sobs. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly.
“S-she j-just f-fell,” Jade stutters, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.
My throat clenches at how broken and scared she sounds. I want to hold her close and reassure her everything will be okay, but I can’t do that until I convince myself that she’s fine first.
“Where is she?” I push her away, just enough so I can see her face. Her blue eyes are red, and her face a mess of tears and snot. Guilt squeezes my heart. God, she looks so young. Too young to be dealing with this all on her own.
Jade might have just turned eighteen, but looking at her like this, with no makeup, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy knot, and in her old pink PJs, she looks younger than that.
I push my feelings away, forcing myself to compartmentalize. There isn’t time for me to wallow. Not now. She needs me. They need me.
I put my hands on Jade’s shoulders and give her a little shake. “Where is she, Jade?” I repeat, trying to keep my panic in check. There is no time for me to freak out, not now.
“B-bed,” she sniffles, wiping at her cheeks. “When she regained consciousness I helped her to bed.”
“Did you call the ambulance?”
Jade scoffs. “You know she didn’t want it.”
Of course, she didn’t. Rubbing my hand over my face, I let it fall down by my side.
“There wasn’t any blood, but she does have a bump on her head.”
I nod and lean down to kiss the top of her head. “You did great, Smalls,” I rasp. “I’ll go in and check on her.”
Her fingers clench my shirt like she wants to hold on to me, but eventually, she lets go. Squeezing her shoulder, I walk inside. My footsteps echo against the marble floors as I rush through the foyer and up the stairs, not stopping once until I get to the double door at the end of the hallway.
I close my eyes and take one deep breath to collect myself before turning the doorknob and entering the room.
The space is dim.The only light turned on is the lamp on the nightstand.
“Nixon.” She shakes her head. “I told your sister not to call you.”
“Is that a way to greet your favorite son?” I ask lightly, plastering a smile on my face.
The door closes behind me as I enter and go toward her. My eyes sting as I see her frail body lying propped against the headboard. She’s lost some weight since the last time I was here. There are bones protruding under her skin, but at the same time she looks chubby. The doctors tell us it’s all the water that’s gathering inside her body since her kidneys don’t work properly to process all the liquids.
“If I remember correctly, you’re my only son,” Mom laughs. It sounds more like a pant like she doesn’t have enough energy to produce the right sound, but the tilt to her lips is unmistakable.
Mom was—is, I remind myself, still is—one of those people who is always laughing, always capable of finding something good and bright in this world. A person who goes out of her way to cheer somebody up, even when her own world is falling apart.
You won’t break, I chant on repeat in my mind as I come closer to the bed.
“Doesn’t make me any less of your favorite, now does it?”
I lean down, pressing my mouth against her bald head in a soft kiss. My touch lingers only a moment longer than necessary. Stolen seconds that will soon enough be the only thing I have left once the disease takes her away from us.
Not today, though. Not today.
“I guess you’re right.”
Her fingers wrap around my hand that’s cupping her cheek, giving it a soft squeeze. They’re bony and cold against my skin. I pull away and take them between my palms, rubbing them softly to warm them, if only a little bit.
“It’s good that she called,” I chastise gently. “You can’t scare us like that.”
“I’m fine, just a little bump on the head, that’s all.”
I run my hand over her bare scalp, feeling the bump she’s talking about.
I should have been here. If I were, maybe…
Her grip on my fingers tightens, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“Don’t you dare think that, Nixon.” The blue-gray irises that match mine land on my eyes, her expression hard. “You couldn’t have changed anything. It was an accident. I promise to be more careful in the future.”
I nod, accepting her explanation, although I know it’s just empty words. She might want to keep her promise, but the truth is, she won’t be able to, not with this fucking disease slowly sucking the life out of her.
Mom yawns, her eyelids fluttering closed. She’s always tired these days. Always in pain.
“You do that.” I swallow the lump in my throat and get on my feet. “You should rest. I’ll leave the door open, you call if you need anything.”
“You should go back…”
I shake my head no. “I’m staying here tonight. You just sleep, okay?”
“Okay.”
Her eyes are already closed by the time I get to the door. I hold onto the doorframe and look back at the woman who’s my mother, but at the same time as far away from my mother as possible.
My hands clench by my sides, the need to slam my fist into something, anything really, so strong I can barely contain it.
Not here. Not yet.
Gritting my teeth, I force myself to let go and take a step back. Quietly, I leave the room, making sure to leave the door ajar so I can hear her if she needs anything.
“How is she?” Jade asks quietly once I step into the hallway.
I look up and find my sister leaning against the wall. She cleaned her face, but her eyes are still red, with dark circles underneath them, her face pale like a ghost.
“Sleeping.” I rub my hand over my face. “She wasn’t happy I came home.”
“I didn’t…”
“No,” I stop her before she can continue. “You did good, I need to know things like this. I need to know so I can help.”
If you really wanted to help, you’d man up and move back home, the little voice at the back of my head taunts me, but I push it back.
“She’s growing weaker. And I worry th-that…” Jade’s voice breaks, more tears filling her eyes. I cross the hallway and pull her into my arms.