But I’m consumed with an uneasy feeling because he didn’t tell me. He never told me there was something wrong with his mother. He told her, but not me. And it hurts. I’m hurt because he knows he can tell me anything and he knows that I’d drop whatever I was doing and come to his aid because that’s how much he meant to me. Why didn’t he tell me?
“She asks about you,” he tells Callie. “She wants to know if you’re going to visit her soon.”
Callie sighs. “Of course.” She’s silent for a second. “It’s just hard for me to see to her like that. You know. Hooked up to all those machines and everything.”
“You?” There’s a bit of hostility in his voice. “She’s my Mom and she’s dying of cancer. And you want to talk about how hard it is for you?”
I gasp. Tears brim in my eyes then I quickly throw my hand over my mouth. I hurt for him. And just like the way I ache for his touch, I ache for him because of the way he must be feeling.
“What was that?” Callie snaps.
“Probably, nothing.”
“I heard something.”
“Callie!” he shouts. “I’m trying to talk to you about my Mom and all you can think about are the noises you think you hear!”
“Look, Henry,” she says, kind of thoughtfully, but I detect a hint of snarkiness in her tone. “I feel bad, but you know how I feel about hospitals and people dying. It’s just some
thing I’d rather not talk about or see.”
I’m so furious that I’m grinding my teeth. Rage pounds through me like a jackhammer to the pavement. If Callie doesn’t leave this bedroom soon, I’m going to crawl out from under this bed and punch her in the face.
How can you love someone and see them hurting like that and not feel like every part of you is splitting in half? I’m in agony and I didn’t even know. I feel like someone has just given me the bad news about one of my own family members. I want to bury myself in a hole of depression grief and misery for him because when you love someone if they hurt, you hurt.
“Just leave me alone, okay Callie?”
The sound of her heels echo against the floor. “Should I tell everyone to leave?”
“No,” he says softly. “But you should.”
“What?”
“Leave.”
“But, Henry I—I”
“Just leave!” he screams. His voice is high and shrill and I’m certain the whole bedroom is shaking.
Callie slams the door and I listen as the sound of her footsteps fade away. Me, I’m torn. I don’t know if I should make my presence known or remain hidden. Part of me is afraid. Clearly he’s okay with Callie being privy to the information about his mother, but he hasn’t told me. So what if he’s not ready to tell me?
Then the sounds of his sobs cut into my thoughts. The bed shakes from him trembling and my vision blurs from the wetness forming in my eyes. I can’t even imagine what he’s going through. I thought it was the end of the world when my parents separated and that is nothing compared to watching one of them die.
I wipe my eyes with the palms of my hands. I’m coming out. I’m going to hold him. I’m going to be that crutch he needs right now. I’m going to comfort him. I’ll let him cry until there isn’t a tear left in his entire body.
His cries cut out and I hear him dialing a phone number. The ringer on my phone squeals out and Henry hops up from the bed. His voice is thick, like it’s clogged with a coating of molasses. “Riley. Are you in here?”
I reach out from under the bed and wrap my hand around his ankle. He jumps, startled and I clear my throat. “Yes. I am.”
Chapter 14
“It is the passion that is in a kiss that gives to it its sweetness; it is the affection in a kiss that sanctifies it.”~ Christian Nevell Bovee ~
Henry grabs me by the wrists and pulls me out from underneath the bed. “Were you there the whole…?”
I finish his sentence. “The whole time, yes.”
He looks away from me. “So you heard everything then?”