The Fault in Our Infinities

Chapter 15: Noble Humility

Two Days Later

Augustus leans in to me. "Does your dad do this a lot?" He mumbles.

I cringe. "Define 'a lot'."

He chuckles and runs his hand down my forearm, finally lacing his fingers through mine. Mum battles with a suitcase on the pavement outside Gus' house, and Dad attempts to help her through his blubbering tears.

Dad cries a lot.

"We'll be back in a few days." Mum tries to console him, dumping the suitcase at the gate of Augustus' front garden. "There's no need to be in such a state."

"I'll miss you!" Dad wails and he wipes his eyes with the crumbling, soggy tissue. "Stay safe and don't get hurt."

You'd think he'd be okay with this trip as it's not like I'm going unsupervised. Augustus told me his parents invited seventy people to come to their reception – most of which are adults. And I'm taking Mum, for God's sake. What's the worst that can happen?

Dad stumbles up to me and kisses my cheek. I feel his damp tears against my face and feel a stab of sympathy. I guess, for him, it's not just one member of his family leaving him, but two. He'll be lonely for the next few days.

"Look after Tabetha." I say, referring to our neighbour's cat, who seems to inhabit our house more than her owner's.

He nods and turns to Augustus. I'm thankful that Dad has enough dignity to look Gus in the eye – even when crying. Augustus holds out his hand and Dad shakes it.

"Look after her." Dad murmurs. I think he's thinks I can't hear him. "I swear to God if anything happens..."

"I'll take care of her, sir." Augustus says, sombre. "With my life. I promise."

Gruffly, Dad nods. "I guess that's all I can ask of you."

When Dad gets back in the car – after a long and melodramatic farewell from Mum – Augustus helps with the suitcases and oxygen tank equipment. Somehow, he manages to simultaneously juggle the bags and luggage whilst also unlocking the door. I did offer to help, but he refused, like it was some sort of test of masculinity, of honour.

Honestly, some people.

"Mum? Dad?" Augustus calls as he walks through the entry hall. He dumps his keys on the shelf and puts our luggage in the living room. Then he swings by the doorway to shout up the stairs, "Anyone home?"

"We're in here, Gus!" I hear his Mother call.

Augustus grabs my hand and walks through the house. His house is smaller than mine, but it's cosier and more homely. Everywhere, little encouragements are dotted around. Hung on the walls in frames, sewn into cushions, bolted to cupboard doors. Things that read: "You cannot expect victory and plan for defeat." Or "Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

I'm not one-hundred percent sure that the latter is wholly true.

When we walk into the kitchen, his parents are waiting, leaning against the counter with their arms around each other. Augustus smiles at them and they smile back and I feel like an intruder all of a sudden, because I remember that Augustus hasn't seen his parents in months and I...I'm just here.

I raise my hand awkwardly. "Hi."

Augustus chuckles knowingly, as if he understands my discomfort. He gives me a kind, encouraging glance and says, "Mum, Dad, this is Hazel Grace-"

"Just Hazel."

"And she's got cancer and she knows it so there's absolutely no need to treat her like an exploding bomb, or a china vase, because she's completely aware that she is dying and wants nothing more than to live the last of her life normally. Don't treat her like Martha."