Until Friday Night
Page 19
That he was proud of me.
Soon I wouldn’t be able to sit in his room and talk to him at all.
Getting away from the heaviness in my house was necessary to keep sane. Having a stranger there, taking care of dad while my mother sat beside him, holding his hand, was too much.
So I ran. And I felt guilty about it.
Parking my truck outside Brady’s house, I realized I was the last one here. They all probably thought I wasn’t coming. When I walked inside, there would be laughter and joking. None of them had any worries or pain to deal with. It was all good food and football.
I glanced up at the window that had been Brady’s before Maggie had moved in. I wondered if she was up there now or if she was downstairs eating tacos with the guys. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t be. But if it was up to Coralee, I had a feeling she would be forced to sit down there with them.
I didn’t know a lot about Maggie, but I watched her. So much so that I was afraid someone was going to notice and say something about it. Watching her eased my mind. Even from afar she was enough to help me breathe. I was becoming dependent on a girl I hardly knew.
Footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see who it was, and my gaze found her.
“Brady doesn’t think you’re coming. Aunt Coralee pulled Brady aside this afternoon and told her about your dad. She knows. Brady was upset and wanted to come see you, but she said to give you time. That you needed to tell him yourself.” Maggie’s sweet voice made my chest warm. That wasn’t something I was familiar with anymore. The coldness had been there for so long now.
She had her long hair tucked behind her ears, and she was staring at the house like I had been. There was a peace that came with her presence. I didn’t understand it because she carried so much heaviness. But for me, she brought peace.
“Hospice came today. Feels like the end,” I told her.
She tilted her head back and looked up at me. At six- foot-two, I towered over her five-foot-five frame. “The end hurts,” she said simply.
She wasn’t sugarcoating it. She wasn’t telling me I had to be strong. She was just being honest. She knew that words meant nothing right now. I reached over and covered her small hand with mine.
“It hurts like hell,” I replied.
She let me hold her hand as we stood there silently. This was what I needed today. Having her beside me, knowing she understood.
“Thanks. For talking to me,” I whispered, as if someone would hear me.
She turned her hand in mine and squeezed. “I’m here whenever you need to talk.”
“You didn’t talk to me today at school,” I reminded her.
“You didn’t need me to then.”
“I did. You just didn’t realize how much.”
The front door of the house opened, and Maggie quickly moved her hand from mine.
Brady stood there staring. At first I expected him to yell at me for being out here with Maggie. But then I saw it wasn’t anger in his eyes. It was sadness. He was sad for me. Then there was the sympathy I didn’t want.
“He loves you. He’s going to feel bad for you. Let him,” Maggie whispered so quietly, I doubted Brady could tell she had said anything from where he stood.
Let him.
She said I should let him feel sorry for me. Because he loved me. I could do that. I had to. There was no way to keep it from happening. Knowing there was one person who understood my pain in a way no one ever could was enough.
“Stay with me,” I asked her, not taking my eyes off Brady.
“Okay,” was her soft reply.
Brady walked toward us. Maggie stayed by my side. Brady glanced over at her but only for a second. He was focused on me. He wouldn’t know what to say to me. I knew that, because if the situations were reversed, I wouldn’t know what to say to him, either.
“You okay?” he asked, watching me cautiously. Like I would break down at any moment. Didn’t he get that I’d been dealing with this for a long time now?
“Yeah,” I replied, which was a lie, but I wasn’t going to make him feel any worse.
He let out a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair as he stared off across the street. He was thinking. He wanted me to tell him. I knew that. But what was he going to do once I did? Tell me he was sorry? That he was here for me if I needed him? Didn’t he know how pointless those words were? He couldn’t do anything for me. He couldn’t make this better.
“He’s been sick for about eighteen months,” I finally said, knowing it was the right thing to do. “The past couple months he’s gotten really bad. Doctors sent him home because there’s nothing else that can be done.”
Brady closed his eyes tightly and inhaled sharply through his nose. I waited for him to speak. I wasn’t sure I could tell him anything more. I didn’t want to talk about it.
When he opened his eyes, he looked at me. “Why didn’t you tell us . . . or me at least? This isn’t something you have to go through alone. We’d have been there for you.”
I felt Maggie’s fingers gently brush against my hand. She was silently trying to encourage me.
“I didn’t want to accept it or talk about it. Telling y’all made it real. I needed to keep going like it wasn’t real. But now . . . I can’t keep doing that. Things aren’t good. It’s bad now,” I explained.
He needed to understand why I’d left him in the dark about something so major in my life. He’d been my best friend since we were six. I knew he didn’t understand this and my not telling him. But it was how I needed to cope. “What can I do?” Brady asked, looking pained.
Soon I wouldn’t be able to sit in his room and talk to him at all.
Getting away from the heaviness in my house was necessary to keep sane. Having a stranger there, taking care of dad while my mother sat beside him, holding his hand, was too much.
So I ran. And I felt guilty about it.
Parking my truck outside Brady’s house, I realized I was the last one here. They all probably thought I wasn’t coming. When I walked inside, there would be laughter and joking. None of them had any worries or pain to deal with. It was all good food and football.
I glanced up at the window that had been Brady’s before Maggie had moved in. I wondered if she was up there now or if she was downstairs eating tacos with the guys. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t be. But if it was up to Coralee, I had a feeling she would be forced to sit down there with them.
I didn’t know a lot about Maggie, but I watched her. So much so that I was afraid someone was going to notice and say something about it. Watching her eased my mind. Even from afar she was enough to help me breathe. I was becoming dependent on a girl I hardly knew.
Footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see who it was, and my gaze found her.
“Brady doesn’t think you’re coming. Aunt Coralee pulled Brady aside this afternoon and told her about your dad. She knows. Brady was upset and wanted to come see you, but she said to give you time. That you needed to tell him yourself.” Maggie’s sweet voice made my chest warm. That wasn’t something I was familiar with anymore. The coldness had been there for so long now.
She had her long hair tucked behind her ears, and she was staring at the house like I had been. There was a peace that came with her presence. I didn’t understand it because she carried so much heaviness. But for me, she brought peace.
“Hospice came today. Feels like the end,” I told her.
She tilted her head back and looked up at me. At six- foot-two, I towered over her five-foot-five frame. “The end hurts,” she said simply.
She wasn’t sugarcoating it. She wasn’t telling me I had to be strong. She was just being honest. She knew that words meant nothing right now. I reached over and covered her small hand with mine.
“It hurts like hell,” I replied.
She let me hold her hand as we stood there silently. This was what I needed today. Having her beside me, knowing she understood.
“Thanks. For talking to me,” I whispered, as if someone would hear me.
She turned her hand in mine and squeezed. “I’m here whenever you need to talk.”
“You didn’t talk to me today at school,” I reminded her.
“You didn’t need me to then.”
“I did. You just didn’t realize how much.”
The front door of the house opened, and Maggie quickly moved her hand from mine.
Brady stood there staring. At first I expected him to yell at me for being out here with Maggie. But then I saw it wasn’t anger in his eyes. It was sadness. He was sad for me. Then there was the sympathy I didn’t want.
“He loves you. He’s going to feel bad for you. Let him,” Maggie whispered so quietly, I doubted Brady could tell she had said anything from where he stood.
Let him.
She said I should let him feel sorry for me. Because he loved me. I could do that. I had to. There was no way to keep it from happening. Knowing there was one person who understood my pain in a way no one ever could was enough.
“Stay with me,” I asked her, not taking my eyes off Brady.
“Okay,” was her soft reply.
Brady walked toward us. Maggie stayed by my side. Brady glanced over at her but only for a second. He was focused on me. He wouldn’t know what to say to me. I knew that, because if the situations were reversed, I wouldn’t know what to say to him, either.
“You okay?” he asked, watching me cautiously. Like I would break down at any moment. Didn’t he get that I’d been dealing with this for a long time now?
“Yeah,” I replied, which was a lie, but I wasn’t going to make him feel any worse.
He let out a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair as he stared off across the street. He was thinking. He wanted me to tell him. I knew that. But what was he going to do once I did? Tell me he was sorry? That he was here for me if I needed him? Didn’t he know how pointless those words were? He couldn’t do anything for me. He couldn’t make this better.
“He’s been sick for about eighteen months,” I finally said, knowing it was the right thing to do. “The past couple months he’s gotten really bad. Doctors sent him home because there’s nothing else that can be done.”
Brady closed his eyes tightly and inhaled sharply through his nose. I waited for him to speak. I wasn’t sure I could tell him anything more. I didn’t want to talk about it.
When he opened his eyes, he looked at me. “Why didn’t you tell us . . . or me at least? This isn’t something you have to go through alone. We’d have been there for you.”
I felt Maggie’s fingers gently brush against my hand. She was silently trying to encourage me.
“I didn’t want to accept it or talk about it. Telling y’all made it real. I needed to keep going like it wasn’t real. But now . . . I can’t keep doing that. Things aren’t good. It’s bad now,” I explained.
He needed to understand why I’d left him in the dark about something so major in my life. He’d been my best friend since we were six. I knew he didn’t understand this and my not telling him. But it was how I needed to cope. “What can I do?” Brady asked, looking pained.
