Everything Changes in a Breath

4

The nursing staff tells us to go home, that there's nothing we can do for Joey by waiting anxiously, pacing up and down the halls and not sleeping. So, we leave.

I am nervous about the car ride home, especially considering the state my mother is in when they tell us to leave. But, since I do not have my license, I couldn't drive us home anyways. My mother drives alright, but for lack of conversation. Muscle memory I guess.

We pull up to the faded brick building that I call home. Once, it had seemed warm and inviting, but now, without Joey here, it feels like an ominous omen. I follow my mother's mechanical steps up the front walk; she unlocks the door and pushes it open with a creak.

I feel like I'm in a horror movie. That's how slowly the door opens.

When I walk through the door, the first thing I see are his pictures. My eyes skip across them, and land to rest on the one of the first time I ever held Joey.

My favorite.

FLASHBACK

I was six when my mother was pregnant with Joey.

In those nine months, I dreamed everyday of what my baby brother would be like. It was almost like Christmas.

Then again, it almost was Christmas. The snow drifted from the sky like snow should, but seldom actually do; I was making a snowman with my Daddy when it happened. In fact, we were just putting the clichéd carrot nose on when all of a sudden my mother yelled, "Charles!"

My Daddy rushed inside, then called out to me, "Aislin! Call the doctor, would you, and tell him we're on our way."

At this, I was excited, as not only was my baby brother most definitely on his way, but also because this - calling the doctor, the highest of honours bestowed to me - made me feel quite grown up.

So I raced inside, dialed the number, and waited patiently for the secretary to pick up.

"Hello, this is -"

"Tell Dr. Shmith that Mrsh. MacGregor ish having her baby, pleash. We're on our way." ( I had just lost my two front teeth, thus couldn't effectively enunciate my ''S's'' properly.)

I raced out to the car, hopped into the back seat and buckled my seatbelt.

For some reason I didn't understand at the time, my Daddy drove awful fast to the hospital. And when we got there, everyone made me wait in the waiting room.

I waited.

I kicked my feet.

I hummed.

I waited some more.

I watched the boring TV Chanel they had on, CNN I think it was.

I got a snack from the vending machine.

I skipped around the waiting room.

I got told by the mean secretary to sit down or ELSE.

I pouted.

I waited some more.

And finally, FINALLY, I got invited back to the room my mother and Daddy were in. Mother was crying, holding onto a tiny blue bundle. "Aislin," She cooed. "Say hello, to your baby brother, Josiah Uriah MacGregor."

"Can I just call him Joey?" Everyone thought this was funny. I didn't; there was no way that I was going to remember that mouthful of a name.

"Yes," Mother giggled.

"Can - can I hold him?" Mother shot a panicked glance at my Daddy, who smiled and nodded.

"Sure."

She handed him to me, lecturing, "Now, Aislin, be careful, he's fragile... Support his head, now."

I cradled him in my arms, and a glow just washed over me.

I promised silently that I would be a good big sister and not let anything hurt him.

I wish I knew a way to protect him from this.