Jo
BY THE TIME, I get home, my eyes, though dry now are still slightly swollen. I called in sick today and Talia was more than happy to let me have the day off. Sometimes, I wonder how she's taking all of this. Each time she stops by the bookstore, she never looks like anything is bothering her. She always look happy and strong and it baffles me because I don't know a thing about being strong.
I spot Drew's truck parked next to the porch and when the events from this morning replay in my mind, I frown before hastening my steps and barging into the living room like I just ran a marathon. If anything, he should be at work or at the hospital receiving treatment.
Grandma is standing next to the landline on the table and she's going through the family's photo album like she always does when she's trying to remember. I close the door gently and then I give her a one-sided hug before forcing a smile.
"Hey grandma." I say, dropping my heavy bag on the dining table and heading straight to the fridge to grab an apple. King barks and runs over to me, waggling his tail as he does so and I grin and ruffle his fur before he struts away again. "Is Drew in his room?"
I start to head up the stairs even when she doesn't respond but then she turns around and when she does, I see the hesitation on her face before she regards me with a solemn look.
"Josephine," she says and the apple I'm about to chew stops halfway to my mouth.
Thankfully, I haven't gone too far up the stairs so I get down slowly and move closer to her. "Did something happen? Is Drew okay?"
She comes closer to me and touches my face with her tender, yet aging hand. Her voice is soft when she speaks but there's annoyance in her eyes. "Your father was here a while ago."
I blink once and then twice and when the expression on her face doesn't change, my response comes out as a silent whisper. "What?"
She nods with a grimace. "He left about thirty minutes ago. He met Drew at home and he brought something with him."
It's almost like she's speaking in another language because even though I'm aware of what she's saying, it doesn't register immediately.
I wonder what he looks like now. Does he still look like he did before he left? Are they grey hairs on his head now? Is his smile still warm and familiar?
I don't realize my eyelashes are wet until I blink and a tear rolls down my cheek. "Did he ask about me?"
"Jo."
"Did he?"
Grandma strokes my cheek with her thumb and sighs. Then she nods and takes out an envelope from the photo album before handing it over to me.
It feels heavy in my hands. Like I'm trying to lift a pile of bricks. Yet, slowly and carefully, I rip the envelope apart and bring out the card that's sitting right inside. I read the cursive words written on it over and over again and the more I read it, the more anger I feel. My father truly is a piece of shit.
"He brought this with him," Grandma says. "And he wanted the signed divorce papers but I refused to call your mother from work and I refused to give them to him even though she's signed them already. That's her job, not mine. So I told him she'll mail them or something and then he left."
"He came all the way from Appleton not to see how the family he left behind is doing but to invite us to his wedding." I say, squeezing the envelope until it crinkles at the side. All of a sudden, I look up at her and say, "You said he met Drew."
She nods. "You should check up on him. He made no reaction when he was here. He saw the invitation, turned around and just went up to his room."
Just like that, I turn around as well and hastily walk up the stairs until I get to his room. It's locked and when I knock, he doesn't respond.
"Andrew, please open the door." I beg. "Please."
The door unlocks a few seconds after that and when he opens it, my nose shrinks in distaste. "You've been drinking."
He stares into my eyes without blinking and he staggers back a little. "I'm a man. So what if my father doesn't give a shit about me anymore? Who gives a fuck about that?"
"Drew," I call, walking closer to him. "You're pissed. I am too but you're not okay."
He drops the bottle in his hands on the floor and holds his head in his hands. "God," he groans. "I think I'm going to be sick."
Immediately I hear that, I drag him to the toilet and he doesn't even spend a second before he starts throwing up. I kneel by his side on the tiles and rub his back while he vomits.
When he looks back up at me, his face crumples and he starts to cry. "Jo," he says, holding my hands. "I'm fucked."
I can't remember the last time I saw him cry. He rarely cries. He never cried when he fell from his bike and dislocated his arm when he was ten, he never cried when he lost a bet, he never cried when he failed a test, he never cried when his girlfriend broke up with him and he definitely didn't cry when dad left.
"You're not." I squeeze his hands and try to keep my own emotions at bay. "We need to go to the hospital."
"I'm 20, irresponsible and full of shit." He says. He tips his head back and runs his hands through his hair. He's turning paler by the second and the hands he has in his hair are shaking. "Everything I do is wrong. I'm tired. I just want to sleep."
"Drew, get up." I say, struggling to pull him to his feet. "You're wrong. We can talk about this later but now you need to go to the hospital. Where are your keys?"
His response is incoherent. I can barely make any sense from the words he's slurring out. He doesn't even seem to know where he last dropped them.
Frustration and fear for his current state claims the better part of me as I give up on searching for them.
"You know what," I shake my head, feeling the gravity of my current predicament lingering on me like an impending storm, as I struggle to lift him up. He's as heavy as a bag of cement. "I'll just call an Uber."
"No need to do that." I hear grandma say at the door and when I look up, Woody is standing next to her with a worried look on his face. "Fortunately he didn't open today so I called him instead."
Woody hurries over to Drew's bent form on the bathroom floor and wraps an arm around his shoulder before lifting him up. They share a look and Drew looks away, his eyes slowly closing. "What the fuck did you take?"
"Good day to you too." Drew mumbles and I subtly roll my eyes. Of course, he'd still have an attitude when he's half conscious. Woody bundles him out of the house and takes him to his truck.
"I just called your mother." Grandma says while I follow them out. "She'll meet you three at the hospital."
I nod and open the door to the passenger seat. "Did you tell her about dad?"
She nods, pursing her lips into a thin line while the chilly breeze whips her curly grey hair around her face. "Please be careful." She tells me and I nod before climbing into the truck and slamming the door shut.
Drew groans every now and then at the backseat while Woody zooms to the hospital. At the hospital, his skin has turned into a sickly blue and his pulse has become irregular and he's immediately rushed into the ER. I cover my mouth with my hands and cry silently while Woody wraps a hand around me and hugs me, while assuring me that he'll be okay.
Mum shows up a few minutes later with her hair all over the place. She's still wearing her brown coat over her usual blouse and straight skirt but you can tell from her face that she's not okay. She sights us sitting in the hallway and she clutches her bag in her hands before striding over to us.
I get up once I see her and she gives me a tight, warm hug. Her arms are all around me, stroking my back, stroking my hair and when she pulls away, she caresses my face and strokes my cheeks with her thumbs. "Are you okay?"
I nod, biting back a sob and she kisses my forehead softly. "Did you meet him?"
"No," I shake my head in the negative. "He was gone before I came home."
She holds my face again and smiles. "Your brother is going to be okay." She tells me. "Everything is going to be fine, okay?"
"Okay." I breathe and blink back the tears in my eyes. "Okay."
"Good." She smiles and takes a seat next to Woody and I. A wave of fatigue takes over me and I lean over and place my head on her thighs, before closing my eyes. She strokes my hair affectionately and I fall asleep in minutes.
By the time I wake up, my head is on Woody's shoulder and mum is nowhere to be seen.
"She's inside." He says, gesturing to a door not too far from us. "He just got out of the ER. Alcohol poisoning. They had to pump his stomach but he's stable now."
He's been consuming so much alcohol for a while now. I saw that on his Instagram stories with his friends, he was with a bottle when I went to his college and he was always with a bottle when he came home. I breathe a sigh of relief, close my eyes and render a silent thank you before mum comes out of the ward.
"Is he awake?" I ask immediately she comes closer and she shakes her head.
"Not yet." She says. "But the doctor says he'll be in a few hours. He just needs rest." Then she frowns like she remembers something. "Have you had anything to eat?"
"No." I reply truthfully but I'm not really concerned about my hunger right now. "Can I see him? Just a peek."
She nods. "Go on. I'll get you and Woody something to eat."
I open the door to the ward and close it so quietly as though he would wake up if I shut it any louder. My brother lies on the bed in an oversized hospital garment and an IV fluid attached to his arm. His breathing is slow and gentle and his eyes are closed, his eyelashes brushing against his cheek. I remember the words he said in the bathroom and I walk over to his bed and kiss him softly on the forehead. When I turn around to leave, I feel a slight tug on my pinkie.
I look back at him but he's still sound asleep and when I look at his fingers, I see them move a little so I take a chair and sit right next to him without any intention of getting up.
Mum comes in eventually with a grouper sandwich and a Diet Coke and she doesn't argue with me when I tell her I don't want to leave. She takes a seat next to me too and tells me Woody has gone back home and will return tomorrow.
I take out my journal and take out one of the sheets I've written on. I summon up the courage to give her that sheet and she takes it from me with a slight look of confusion before reading the contents. When she's done, she squeezes my hand and gives me the biggest smile ever. And then in my ear, she whispers, "I'm so lucky to have you both as my children."
I beam like a lighthouse and give her the whole journal since it's filled with my works. She goes through them while I fall asleep and by the time I wake up again, the sky outside is dark and mum isn't in but I'm assuming she's gone to get us something to eat again.
I look back at Drew and place my hand on his forehead.
"I got alcohol poisoning, not a fever doc." He talks but his eyes are still closed and he's sporting a tiny smile on his face.
I mirror his expression and relief floods my entire being. "How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to know you fart in your sleep."
I roll my eyes and grin. "You're the second person telling me this." Then I think about that night in my room and embarrassment makes my cheeks heat up. I'm not going to believe that happened especially with Flynn around.
He opens his eyes fully and grimaces a little before slowly sitting up on the bed.
"How are you feeling?"
"Peachy." He shrugs and looks round. "Where's mum?"
"Probably went out to get us something to eat." I say, shifting my chair closer to his bed until there's little space between us. "I'm glad you're okay. I was worried sick."
"I said some stuff in the bathroom." He starts and I nod.
"And I don't believe any of it. I don't think any of it is true."
He scratches his neck and sighs. "He's been trying to reach out to me for a month now." He says while looking at me. "He's been calling and sending texts. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I wasn't going to tell anyone to be honest."
"What for?"
"I don't know." He shrugs. "I never gave him a listening ear. Never checked his texts, never answered his calls but it was all because I was too scared to. I let his disappearance affect me so much to the extent that I actually envy you for being stronger than I am."
I scoff like he's said the funniest thing. "I'm far from strong. I'm the weakest person on the planet."
"That's not true." He says. "I couldn't get over the fact that he left. I stalked him on social media even after he changed his first name. I know where he lives. I know what his current children look like. I know how old they are. I know what his girlfriend is like. Social media reveals a lot about a person especially if you put it out there."
He doesn't stop talking. "Every time I saw his smile, I felt more miserable. I felt more stupid, you know? I'm 20, Jo. Fucking 20. I'm supposed to be a man. Why should I let myself get affected by one man so much that I couldn't be myself anymore? It's like when he left, he took a part of me with him and I struggled to get it back, but I couldn't. I looked up to him throughout our childhood. He was my hero. And then he wasn't. So I stopped caring and I started doing whatever I could to take my mind off my father's abandonment.
"And I'd look at you and see you trying to work harder to get what you want. You cried when he left and you never spoke about it again even though I'm sure you cried yourself to sleep many times and I was mad at myself because I couldn't do anything to comfort you. I could barely take care of myself in fact, so college was an escape route but it got worse."
He pauses for air and then he runs a hand down his face. "I was loosing track of my life. I got into fights, made trouble here and there. Dealt with dangerous people. Squandered money. Failed my classes. And then life became meaningless. So one night, I walked to the roof of my dorm and wrote you a note."
"No." I shake my head and I don't restrict myself from crying anymore. It comes without restraint and I let it. "No."
"I wrote you a note and I was going to write one to mum when my phone started ringing. You were calling again. Like you always do. And when I didn't take it, you sent me a bunch of texts and voicemails. But you weren't whining about a boy this time or something that happened in school. You told me mum was worried sick about me and that the least I could do was to be fucking humane after squandering her money. So I left the roof after listening to the voicemail a thousand times and then I turned to alcohol. It kept me awake like you I told you when you came over."
I nod, wiping the tears on my face away with my hands. "I remember that night."
He nods, his eyes brimming with tears. "You saved my life that night."
I enclose both of his hands in mine and place my chin on it. "I love you. Mum loves you. Grandma loves you. Woody loves you. No-one gives two fucks about dad. You are loved. So so much."
He lets out a short laugh mixed with tears and nods. "Yeah, I know. Now's the time to get sappy. I'll allow that."
I laugh too and then I keep on cleaning my cheeks while he leans closer. "Mum's at the door. I heard it creak a little when she was about to come in. I think she heard everything I said." He whispers.
I look up at the glass top of the door and see her curly bun resting against it. "She's not that good at hiding."
"E for effort."
"That's mean."
Right then, mum walks in and shuts the door with three bags of food in her hand. She clears her throat and from the redness in her eyes, I'm already sure she cried too.
"Oh good. You're awake. How are you feeling?"
Drew rolls his eyes with the tiniest smile on his face. "We know you heard everything."
"I know you don't like group hugs but we're going to have one now." She says pointedly to Drew and he sighs before leaning up against the headboard. She shuffles closer and wraps us both in a warm embrace before distributing kisses on our foreheads.
"Both of you mean the world to me." She says when she pulls back. "And I'd go to any length to make you both happy."
"Except crime." I chime in and she laughs.
"We'll see about that."
Drew gives her a side eye. "Who are you and what have you done with our mother?"
She smiles and lifts the bags up. "I'm mailing the papers over to him tomorrow. Hopefully, he'll have no reason to show up at our doorstep anymore."
"What if he does?" I ask with a frown.
"Then what will be will be." She says. "At the end of the day, he's still your father, regardless of whether he abandoned us or not."
"I just want to know why he did it." I say. "That's all."
"Does that mean you'll attend the wedding?" Drew asks me and I shake my head.
"No. That's to rub it in our faces that he's doing well. I'm not giving him the opportunity to do that."
"Besides, your grandmother already flushed it down the toilet immediately after you guys left and in her words, 'she's not sorry about it'. I'm sure it's one of those weddings where you aren't allowed with an invite." Mum tells me as she opens the lid that covers the food and reveals steaming spicy looking chicken wings.
"Alright. Enough about him." Drew says. "Mum, I got a job at an auto shop yesterday but I think I may have already lost it since I was supposed to start today."
"Doesn't stop me from cheering to that though." Mum smiles. "I'm sure you'll get another one."
"That reminds me," she says. "I've been scouting around for something cheap and affordable, at least for now and I think I found the perfect one."
"What's that?" Drew frowns and mum clears her throat.
"So, you both know how much I've always wanted to set up my own bakeryâ"
With my chicken in my mouth, I cut her off. "No way."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Drew laughs and mum shakes her head.
"First off, language. Secondly, yes way. Our former neighbors, Mr Dundee and his wife have offered to lease one of their buildings to me at an affordable price. It's cute and small. Just like I've dreamed it to be."
"Can we go see it tomorrow?" I ask and she shrugs.
"When the doctor says it's okay to discharge your brother, then you both can see it together."
Drew stares at her curiously. "Have you got a salesperson yet?"
"Not yetâ"
"Good." He grins. "Looks like I've gotten another job already."