Always: Broken Series Book Four (4 page)

I
’m too
young to die.
That was all that I could think about on the ride home with mom and dad. They both were so quiet. That was so weird. I wasn’t used to them not saying much. I wanted them to talk to me. To tell me that everything was going to be fine. I knew that it wasn’t, no matter what. But I wanted them to tell me what I wanted to hear.

I knew that dad was bad about bullshitting me. He never was good at that. Even when I was a little girl, he talked to me like I was an adult. He always used bad words around me, reasoning to mom that I was going to learn them anyhow. Whenever I had a crush on a boy, and I asked him for advice, he would tell me straight up what he thought. He was always right, too.

But mom…she was always good for bullshit when I felt like I needed it. She always tried to look on the bright side. Whenever dad told me that this boy was a player or that boy was a loser, mom would come in and try to find the good things about him. Whenever I had a problem with a friend, dad would tell it like it is, while mom would try to sugarcoat it. I was desperate for mom to tell me a pretty lie, but she didn’t.

As I sat in the back of the SUV, I wanted there to be a little bit of normalcy. “Can we go for ice cream?” I asked them. “Cold Stone?”

“Of course,” dad said. His voice sounded different in my ears. It was shaky.

He turned into the Cold Stone, and we went in. I ordered my usual – birthday cake ice cream mixed in with mixed berries and peanut butter cups. It tasted like a PBJ to me with some chocolate added in. Mom just got a plain ice cream, chocolate, while dad got chocolate mixed in with Oreo cookies and nuts.

We sat down and I dug in. “So, there’s this new boy at school, Blake. He’s been texting me a lot, and I think that he wants to go out.”

Dad raised his right eyebrow. “Oh?” Then he smiled. “Another contender for bum of the month club?”

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t think so. He seems pretty cool I guess. He’s not an honors student or anything like that, but he plays in a band.”

“A band?” My dad seemed skeptical. “I hate him already.”

I looked over at mom, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention to my talking to dad. She hadn’t touched her ice cream, either. “Mom, what do you think about that? My going out with a dude who’s in a band?”

Mom gave me a quizzical look. “What’s the problem with that? I was in band when I was a freshman. I played the flute.”

Dad started laughing. “You know, I never knew that about you. All these years, and I never knew that you played an instrument.”

She laughed as well, and I started to feel relieved. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all. “Well, I wasn’t very good at it. Cheapskate Mr. Lucas only bought me a used flute that hit a lot of bum notes, so I never really got past last chair.”

Dad put his arm around mom. “Dear, as funny as it is to find out that my girl is a musician, I think that you misunderstand Addy. She’s trying to say that this boy she likes, Blake, is in a band. Like playing on a stage, having girls throwing underpants. That kind of thing.”

Mom still looked a bit mystified. “Oh, okay.” She smiled weakly. “Well, that’s a different thing. I mean, being in band in school means that you might be a geek. But being a part of a rock band is a different thing.”

“Good stereotyping mom. Just because you’re part of the high school band doesn’t make you a geek.”

“Of course it doesn't.” She turned to my dad. “I’m so sorry, I’m having problems focusing on the conversation.”

“Mom, I know. But I need everybody to act like nothing is happening. I need that, at least for a little bit.”

Mom nodded her head, but dad had his
I’m calling bullshit
face. “Addy, that’s not realistic,” dad said. “We can’t act like nothing’s wrong, because there clearly is. I don’t mind talking about other things, of course, but you have to face facts. This isn’t going to be easy. Best case, you have surgery that removes all the tumor, and nothing else is needed. But you have to realize that it could be much worse than that.”

Dad had apparently sprung to life again, after being quiet all this time. I actually liked that he was talking to me like this, because this felt normal to me. I was afraid that he was going to fold like an accordion, but he didn’t let me down.

Mom, on the other hand, was still struggling to find words. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, Addy, but I’m just trying to process this.”

Dad put his hand on mom’s and looked at her the way that he always did. No matter what happened, I always knew that mom and dad loved each other. They fought sometimes in front of us girls, but nothing major. He spoke to her in a low voice. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

Mom said nothing, but just nodded her head. I could tell that she was trying to not cry.

Dad shook his head. “Mom has problems dealing with things. When the shit hits the fan, she tends to clam up. But she’s in your corner, as she always has been. And always will be.”

“Excuse me,” she said, getting up. “I need to use the restroom.”

Dad watched her leave and then he looked at her ice cream. “It’s melting.” He shrugged and dipped his spoon into the little cardboard bowl. “I don’t think that she’s going to eat this anyway.”

“Thank you, dad.”

“For what?”

“For being normal. As normal as possible. I know that I said that I wanted everyone to act like nothing’s happening, but I’ll settle for normal.”

“Then normal is what I’m going to try to give you.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks. Now, can you talk to mom about giving me normal too?”

Dad nodded. “You have to understand, your mom has had a tough life. She’s been great for years, of course, because nothing major has happened. She might have a tough time dealing with this.”

“You are too. I can see it on your face. I saw your reaction in the doctor’s office. You’re having problems with dealing with this, yet you’re able to still tease me like you always do. Why can’t mom?”

Dad shrugged. “Guess she’s not as good of an actor as I am.” At that, he looked away. I could see in his eyes that he was struggling, but he was trying so hard to hide it. It made me love him all the more.

Mom came back to the table. I looked at her, and I saw that she had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face didn’t have any makeup on. It looked like she went in the bathroom and not only cried her eyes out, but washed her face afterwards. She sat down, and managed a smile.

“Hey,” she said in a weak voice. “Where’s my ice cream?”

Dad laughed. “Well, it looked like you weren’t going to eat, so…”

“You just helped yourself, didn’t you?” Mom was smiling, so I knew that she wasn’t serious. “You can just get up and get me another cup. Chocolate ice cream, and mix in some M&Ms.”

Dad put his hand on his head like he was saluting, and then got up.

Mom smiled at me, but didn’t say anything. Then she opened her mouth and said a single word, then shut it again. That word sounded shaky. It sounded like she was afraid that she was going to cry if she talked to me, so she just decided not to say anything at all.

“Mom, it’s okay. I’m sorry that I asked you guys to say good words to me. I don’t need that. I just need for you and dad to try to be normal. Dad’s good at it. I’d like you to be too. Can you?”

She nodded, but I noticed her swallowing hard. She was blinking her eyes rapidly and she continued to swallow hard. I sighed. Mom wasn’t going to be able to do normal. She was apparently incapable of doing normal.

I wondered if I even knew what normal was anymore.

I
got home
, and I asked dad if I could talk to Chloe about what was going on. “I’d like to tell her before you guys do. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. What are you going to tell her?” Dad asked. Mom still hadn’t said a single word to me, although she was talking to dad. I didn’t think anything of it, because I could tell that she felt that if she talked to me, she would just start crying. Since I didn’t want her crying, I supposed it was good that she wasn’t talking, either.

“That I have cancer. And that I hope that I have two legs this time next year, but that might not be possible.”

“Is that how you’re going to put it? In those words?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s the truth, isn’t it? That doctor seemed to say that there are all kinds of things that might happen to me. He sorta said that my losing a leg could happen. I need to be prepared for that, and so should Chloe.”

Mom was just standing there, staring at me, her hands wringing. That was something that I always noticed she did – wring her hands. I didn’t think that she even noticed that she did that. I always did, though. I always noticed that she did that whenever she and dad were in a fight. Which happened more than I would have liked throughout the years. Mom and dad were so different – I wondered how they ever got together at all.

“Addy,” she finally said. Her voice was trembling, and she bit her bottom lip. “Maybe dad and I should talk to Chloe.”

“Why? You’re just going to tell her bullshit. Are you going to go in there and tell her that I might lose my leg, and I’ll definitely lose my hair? And I’m probably going to lose my mind while I’m at it. Or are you going to tell her about the rainbows and unicorns and all the great things that will happen when I beat this thing without any kind of bad things happening? That the doctor is going to be able to just cut this thing out of my knee and I’ll be out of soccer for a few months, but then I’ll be good as new?” I had no idea why I was angry, I just knew that I suddenly was. “What are you going to say to her, mom?”

“We’re just going to tell her what’s going on, and answer any questions she might have.”

“Mom. I love you, but come on. You’re big on the psychobabble crap, and Chloe won’t be having that. She’s going to want to know what’s going on, and if you start talking the way that you always do with us, using those words you learned from your therapist…” I shook my head. “She won’t be having it.”

That was another thing about mom – she had been through years of therapy, and it showed. I knew why she had to go through therapy. She had been through a lot when she was growing up. But I always hated it when she started spouting off the psychobabble bullshit. I hated it when I listened to television shrinks, and I hated it when it came out of her mouth.

“Addy, that’s enough,” my dad said. “Your mother is just trying to help.” He put his arm around mom. “Honey, I think Addy’s got this.”

Mom just shook her head and brought out a Kleenex that she had apparently shoved into her pocket when she went to the restroom. I felt sorry for her, but I also felt mad. She needed to man up, or the female equivalent of manning up. I couldn’t have her falling apart all the time.

As I climbed the stairs to go and see Chloe, I could hear my parents talking down below. They were trying hard to be quiet, but I could hear dad trying to talk to mom. I also heard mom say stuff about losing me. That hurt. I was worried about losing my leg. Mom was apparently worried about me dying. That thought never even crossed my mind. I was 15. I was way too young to die. My destiny was to be on television with my own cooking show. My destiny certainly wasn’t to die before I even finished high school.

Was it?

I got to Chloe’s room and knocked on the door. She answered the door almost immediately.

“Hey kid, what’s going on up here?” I kinda knew, because her schoolbooks, and her laptop, were spread out on her bed. Next to her books were our two dogs, Georgie and Gracie. They were both pugs, and they eagerly jumped off the bed when I came in and greeted me. I bent down to scratch their ears and they whined softly.

“I’m studying. I have an AP exam tomorrow in conversational French.”

I shook my head. Conversational French, and the girl was 12 years old. I never had that kind of motivation to learn another language, especially one as useless as French was in this country. Now, Spanish was a language that I would consider learning, if only because that was a language that was often spoken around me. But I hardly ever heard anyone speaking French, except, of course, when I went to France and other French-speaking countries.

I sat down on the bed, shoving aside several books and various papers. “Okay. Well, I guess you know that mom and dad went to the doctor with me today.”

She nodded. “You’re sick, aren’t you?”

“I am. I have cancer. In my knee.” I pointed to my knee.

Her eyes got wide. She looked like a little owl to me, as she wore glasses and her eyes were large anyhow. Her right hand shook a little bit. “Are you going to die?” she asked me softly.

“No. I mean, I don’t want to tell you that, only to find out that I’m in fact going to die. But I don’t think so. The doctor seemed to say that he can cure this. But they need to do a biopsy and everything to see what kind it is, so that they know what to do with it. I might lose my leg, though.”

She started to cry. “Alison’s sister died of cancer. Alison always thought that her sister was going to beat it, too.”

I put my arm around the crying Chloe. “Chlo, I know that you’re scared. I am too. I won’t lie. But we can’t go there. We can’t just assume that I’m going to die.”

Chloe nodded her head. “But you might. You might, and what then? I don’t want to think that you’re going to be okay, only to find out that you’re not.”

I sighed. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to talk to Chloe before I had a really good handle on what was happening. “Chloe, I know that Alison’s sister died of cancer.” Alison was Chloe’s best friend, or one of her best friends. Everyone knew Alison’s sister, whose name was Margaret, because Margaret was one of hit most popular girls in school. Margaret was my age, and when she died, going to school was like going to a wake. “But let’s just find out what the doctor says about my cancer before we jump to any conclusions. Besides, Margaret had brain cancer. She had one of those glio things. I was doing research on the Internet before I even went in to see that doctor, and bone cancer is kinda curable. More curable than a glio brain tumor, anyhow.”