XIII
I wake up as Fox is unknotting himself from me. “Sorry,” he mumbles, smiling, “I have to pee.” I nod and hug my arms to my chest. I’m not sure what time it is, but it looks early. I doubt Mom is home because she would have woken us up while she was coming in, and it sounds like the twins are asleep. Fox comes back and we squeeze onto the couch. I sigh.
“I’m really going to lose him.” He nods. “I don’t know how to prepare myself for this.”
“I don’t think you really can.”
“I’m not ready.
“You probably won’t ever be.”
“Thank you for coming over last night.”
“Thank you for calling me,” he says, “I missed you.”
“I was scared.”
“Why?” he asks, but I just shrug.
“What time is it?”
“Like seven,” he says, laughing, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”
He takes my hand in his and my sleeve slips down slightly. “Why do you have gauze on your arm?” I pull my hand away from his.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Taylor…”
“I’m sorry, okay? I couldn’t stop it this time.” I sit up and walk into the kitchen. He follows close behind.
“I thought you promise me,” he says, sounding hurt.
“I did.”
“So why did you do it?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Help me then.”
“You wouldn’t understand unless you were in my position I tried, alright? I did. But sometimes trying isn’t good enough.” He sighs. I pour a bowl of cereal and Fox does the same.
Luke comes out and sits at the table, so I pour him one too. He eats it quickly, and then a second one. Cancer works in such odd ways. Yesterday we got the news that there’s no more they can do for him and today he’s eating like a grown man. I must’ve sighed audibly because Fox wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple. “It’ll be okay,” he mumbles into the top of my head. It won’t. Nothing will ever be okay again. Lauren comes out of my room and I pour her a bowl of cereal but she pushes it away.
“What’s wrong?” Fox asks, kneeling by the table and laying his head on his arms.
“My tummy hurts,” she whines.
“Did you go potty?” I ask, and Fox tries to suppress a smile, “What?”
“That was such a mom think to ask,” he says.
“I am a mom,” I say, “Kind of.”
“Speaking of moms,” Mom says, “I’m home.” Her voice causes me to jump. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
