Underwater (3 page)

I sat down and turned my body toward hers. “We still aren’t sure about everything,” I said, watching her cautiously. “They found a tumor in his rectum.” Her eyes opened wide, but she remained quiet. ”They are sending the results for a biopsy test to determine if it’s cancer.” I tried to break the news as gently as I could, but this kind of news was brutal, no matter how delicately you tried to say it. You can’t dress up the pain of this reality with flowery words. All you could do was say it and hope to God you could get through it.

My mother remained still, completely unmoving. A tear fell down my cheek.
Say something.

Long minutes of torturous silence passed between us.

But all I got was more intolerable silence. It was then I realized she was going into shock.

Now what am I going to do?

I couldn’t bring myself to concentrate on anything. The only place where I felt bits of happiness was at work. I worked in a small clothing store in our neighborhood near my house. The place was bustling with life, always filled with people. It was never monotonous.

There, I didn’t have to think. I was always busy, and I simply blessed those hours.

Adam, my little brother, didn’t know about the news yet. There was no point in freaking him out until we knew what we were dealing with. And I was in no hurry to wreck his world.

When I got home that night from work, my dad was sitting on the couch watching TV. He hadn’t heard me come in, so I stood in place and observed him in silence. These past few months hadn’t been kind to Ray Maier. He’d lost weight. His face, which was once full around the edges, was now thin. His cheekbones were prominent. His skin was pale. It was hard looking at the man I’d always considered untouchable become so vulnerable.

Putting my bag on the mahogany table, I went to the couch and flopped down beside him. “Hey, Dad. How was your day?” I asked, going for a normal tone as if everything was alright with this damned world.

Looking down at me with sad eyes, he half-smiled and said, “It’s better now that you’re here.”

I felt tears starting to form in my eyes. The lump in my throat made it hard to swallow. And it was even harder to breathe as I watched my father try to fake a smile.

For my sake.

How could I live without him?

I forced myself to smile in return, put my head on his lap, closed my eyes, and savored the quality time we still had.

“I am not this hair, I am not this skin, I am the soul that lives within.”

—
Rumi

“T
he biopsy test and CT scan show that it is cancer and it is spreading to other parts of the body – to the liver, pelvis, and lungs.”

I sat between my mom and dad, clutching their hands in mine while the doctor told us our worst fears had become a reality. My mom stared at Dr. Brown with a blank expression and I wondered what was going through her mind.

“The best option for now is to start a series of chemo treatments and see how his body responds.”

I turned my head towards my dad when I started to feel his hand pull away from mine. I knew he was scared but he was trying to look strong, like he didn’t need me to hold his hand.

Well maybe he didn’t, but damn it, I needed to hold
his
. I held on tighter and refused to let go, showing him I was here for him. That I would stand by his side and help him with everything that I could.

Because I was his baby girl.

His buttercup.

And because I loved him.

Every single day we weren’t doing something could cost my dad his life. I decided then and there that I would do whatever it took to make it all happen. He needed to start the treatments sooner rather than later. I didn’t care how hard it was going to be, or how loud I needed to scream. All that mattered was my dad’s health.

With heavy hearts, we eventually left Dr. Brown’s office. Darkness had fallen across Astraea beach while we were inside. I looked up at the stars twinkling in the sky, mocking me from above. We drove straight home because no one was in the mood for anything else. The ride was quiet. At one point, I almost played a song just to fill the silence, but in the end, I decided against it. I needed the quiet.

When we made it home, my dad went to sleep and my mom went outside for a smoke. I knew my dad wanted to be alone, so I let him be, and headed to the backyard.

We lived in a tiny community on an island off the shore of North Carolina called Astraea Island. The town was beautiful with breathtaking landscapes, gorgeous beaches with snow-white silky sand and crystal clear sea water in shades of turquoise.

Sometimes tourists would come to the island in the summer, but mostly it was just us town folks. That was fine with me. I loved the solitude this island provided. Most of the people that lived here were warm and kind and everyone knew everyone... or thought they did.

We came back here not long ago, just before my father was diagnosed. After what happened to River, my parents were not able to stay in the old house. They had moved us to another town until the decision was made to come back to our roots.

When I stepped outside, I saw my mother sitting on the white wooden swing that was attached to an old oak tree. Its red and orange leaves formed a halo over my mother’s head. It would have been a beautiful picture had it not been shaded in sadness.

Her head hung low while she rocked back and forth, nursing a cigarette.

I moved forward and sat down alongside her on the twin swing, contemplating the best way to start the conversation. Looking at her face, I could see the changes in her already.

Lillian Maier used to be the happiest woman I knew. She had this force that drew everyone to her. A pretty woman she was too, with darker skin than the rest of us, and long straight black hair, high cheekbones, and full pink lips. Compared to me, she was tall and I’d always been a bit jealous of her height. Though now, I didn’t envy her at all.

“Mom,” I said cautiously. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

She took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke up towards the sky. “What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice trembling.

I took a deep breath and decided for both of us. “You continue working as usual. It’s your job to hold the family together. Leave me to take care of Dad.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” I answered without confidence. “I’ll be fine.”

The first round of treatment passed in a blur. A little tiring, but not as bad as I thought it would be. It lasted for three days, and my dad needed to be hospitalized for it. The staff was friendly and attended to our every need. I stayed with him through it all. It was the first time he’d been through something like that and I had to be there, by his side. My mother had to work, and Adam still didn’t know. I couldn’t tell him about our dad’s cancer. Not yet. I wanted him to be in the dark for as long as possible. He was so free now, happy and laughing, doing his usual thing. I didn’t want to take that away from him.

So for now, we told him Dad was going through a small surgery, nothing serious.

When the nurse had assured him his hair would not fall out, he was relieved. And so was I. So you can imagine how we felt a few weeks later when his hair started to fall out. He became agitated and his anger only intensified. All day long he walked around in a foul mood, grieving over his hair.

At some point, Mom had managed to convince Dad it would be best if he cut his hair all at once, instead of watching it fall out a little every day.

Dad sat on the couch, clutching his hands together, breathing hard and shallow. He was hanging by a thread. A bomb that was about to explode. But he worked at schooling his expression and hiding his emotions.

But I could read him like a book.

Hearing the knock on the door, I got up and opened it to Lettie’s bright face. Lettie Maier was my dad’s little sister. And no matter what, she always managed to brighten the room just by walking into it.

“Hey, Lettie,” I said, giving her a hug. “Thanks for coming.”

“Nonsense. You know I’m always here when you need me.” I started to pull away but she held on. “I’m so proud of you, Aria,” she said in my ear. “Let me know if you need anything. You’re doing great.”

The tears threatened to fall. I fought to keep them in, my throat burning from the effort.” My vision blurred. I couldn’t breathe. I held so much pain inside that I felt I was going to break into tiny pieces. “Th-thank you, Lettie,” I choked out and then stepped aside to let her inside the house.

I avoided my parents’ eyes and snuck away to the bathroom to wash the tears that had fallen. My reflection in the mirror revealed a thinner face, paler skin, and dark circles underneath my eyes. The stress and anxiety were taking its toll. Sighing deeply, I dried my face with a towel near the sink and headed back into the living room.

While I was gone, my dad had moved to sit in a wooden chair with Lettie standing beside him, holding the electric hair-trimmer. He was on the verge of tears and my heart lurched painfully.

I moved closer and then crouched down in front of him. “Dad, look at me.” Waiting for him to respond, I placed light kisses on his hands.

He didn’t move.

“Dad!
Look at me!
”

He opened his eyes slowly. I could see the darkness wrapping around him and pulling him in and I couldn’t let him get lost in it.

And just like that, I knew what I should do.

Standing abruptly, I told Lettie to wait for my return. I rushed to my room and brought my guitar back with me. One of the things I shared with my dad was our passion for music. Sometimes, when we had no words to express ourselves, we used music to share our feelings.

Entering the living room, I sat crossed legged in front of him on the floor, arranging my guitar. Caressing the strings, I decided on the perfect song. I had listened to it on repeat lately, the words portraying exactly the way I felt. There was no better way to convey what I wanted to tell him than this precise song. I wanted him to know that I was here with him every step of the way, no matter what, and that he was not alone.