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  She gave me a skeptical look, “Well, your shift is over. Why don’t you go get you some sleep in the on-call room? You don’t seem well enough to drive a car...”

  “I’ll get a coffee,” I assured her. There was no way I was spending the night in the hospital. Wanda didn’t look too pleased with my answer but shrugged it off. At least she had informed me my shift was over. I was so out of it I probably would I have kept working until someone told me to stop.

  Going to the locker room, I changed into a pair of fitted jeans, a t-shirt, and a lightweight jacket. I ran a hand through my wild wavy hair; I was long overdue a haircut, having put it off for several months. Putting my backpack on, I headed out to the elevator lobby. When I hit the down arrow, the recurring ringing sounded through my ears. Had I developed tinnitus somehow? Tapping my ear, I managed to get rid of the noise yet again. Once the elevator got to the floor of the cafeteria, I stepped off and headed in. It didn’t take long to spot Lyle since he was sitting at a table near the entrance. I waved him to come over to me, and Lyle promptly came over. “Have you ate today?” I asked Lyle, giving him a questioning look. It was hard to say how frequently he ate living at home. With how skinny he was, it wasn’t as often as it should be.

  Lyle reluctantly shook his head no. It was six in the evening, and he hadn’t eaten. “Let’s get a bite,” I said, heading towards the cafeteria line. “I know school cafeteria food is horrible, but it’s actually pretty good here,” I explained to him. “Get whatever you want, my treat.”

  My brother gave me a sheepish nod, not making eye contact with me. And there it was, the conditioning of my father. He had beat it into us that it was pathetic to accept handouts. That if you couldn’t earn it yourself, you didn’t deserve it. It had taken me a couple of years suffering through hunger pains and overcoming my own stubbornness to accept that it was okay to get help when you needed it. Hopefully, he can heal from that and see what the world was really like, instead of what my dad painted it to be. We went through the line, I picked out a sandwich and some fries, whereas Lyle got a burger, a slice of pizza, two orders of fries, and a slice of chocolate cake. I felt prideful to be able to feed him. I may have to be late on a payment that next month, but I was going to make sure he ate well while he was around me.

  “So how did you find me?” I asked my brother as we walked towards the dining area.

  “The internet is a magical thing,” Lyle joked dryly. “All I did was put in your name, and you popped up on the hospital website.” We sat down, and Lyle immediately chowed down. I took a couple of acetaminophen tablets out of my pocket and popped them in my mouth, chasing them down with a sip of soda. Lyle gave me a questioning look, “You alright?” he asked between bites of his burger.

  “Just got a migraine,” I murmured. “What about you? Are you doing alright?”

  Lyle’s eyes darted away, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, it’s not like I’m sad about dad. It’s not like he got any nicer over the years…” he murmured. When he finished chewing the bite in this mouth, Lyle put his burger down and finally brought himself to look at me. “Look, I know you got your own life now, and I don’t wanna screw that up for you… but in a way, you owe me. I didn’t get to run away like you did. You weren’t around to see the worst of it. You have no idea what it’s been like for me,” Lyle’s voice cracked, his eyes shifting around the cafeteria before falling down to his tray. “I can’t be stuck with mom. She’s completely lost it. She can’t cope with losing dad…”

  “Lyle…” I murmured. What did he expect me to do? I couldn’t care for her.

  “No,” Lyle snapped. “You don’t get to just run away from this. I deserve to go to college too. I got accepted into my top choice, and I’m supposed to start in the fall. Mom is not able to care for herself, and I am all she has right now. If something doesn’t change, I won’t be able to go to school, Jase. How is it fair that you got to get away and I’m stuck with all of the problems?”

  I couldn’t look at him, the guilt would be too much to handle. Lyle was right, and I knew that. I knew I was going to have to go home and help him, but God, I didn’t want to. Just thinking about going back to that town made me sick to my stomach. So many bad memories were made there. The only good memories were made with the person sitting right across from me. Couldn’t he just come stay with me until he went to school and leave the state to deal with the rest? But even with all the resentment I had for my parents, I couldn’t just leave my mother like that. There was no way around it, I had to go home.

  Rubbing my eyes, I let out a frustrated groan. Collecting my thoughts for a moment, I finally built up the courage to look at my brother again. “Alright, I’ll come home to help with the funeral arrangements and to get mom in a home. After that, we’ll figure out your living situation until you go to school. I’m not going to leave you with all this. I promise.”

  Tears collected in Lyle’s steel-colored eyes. He nodded at me, his voice barely above a whisper as he managed to get out, “Thank you.” Seeing him like this shattered my heart, causing a lump to form in my throat. I couldn’t begin to imagine how much stress had been on his shoulders, and at such a young age. I felt partly to blame for it, but there was no way I could have seen this coming.

  We finished our meal mostly in silence, both in our own little worlds. I tried to make some small talk, asking how he had done in high school, and what he wanted to study in college. It felt a little empty, though. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to know my brother, I did. My thoughts were just too distracted with thoughts of returning home for the first time in nearly a decade. Would my mother recognize me? Would I have to deal with other family members I didn’t want to see? The sinking feeling in my gut told me I would. And I wasn’t looking forward to that at all. I was ready for this to all be over with.

  When Lyle finished eating, I smiled weakly at him and stood, taking our trays over to the dish bins and placing them in one. “Do you have a way home?” I asked Lyle.

  “Yeah. I have a part-time job at the grocery store. I bought a bus pass to get around.”

  I nodded, “Alright. Well, you go ahead home, and I’ll be over first thing in the morning. Alright? I have to sort some stuff out first.”

  Lyle nodded back at me, “Yeah, of course. Thank you.” Then he stepped toward me and opened his arms. I closed the gap between us and gave him a big hug. He would never know just how horrible I had felt all these years knowing he had to put up with our parents without me.

  After a long embrace, I stepped back and cleared my throat, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Yeah, see ya tomorrow,” Lyle smiled weakly. He then turned and headed out the door.

  I let out a big sigh. It was going to be a long, long week. Rubbing my face, I headed to the elevator. I would call my attending physician when I got home, not feeling up to having a face-to-face conversation with anyone. Heading down to the garage, I got in my car. When I sat down in the driver seat, the gravity of the situation really weighed down on me. Just this time yesterday I wouldn’t have thought my life would be in the midst of this predicament. If I had known, I probably would have ran away, not wanting to face it. My grip tightened on the steering wheel, tears stinging my eyes. God, I did not want to go back to my hometown.

  CHAPTER THREE: NO PLACE LIKE HOME

  The Next Morning

  One week. I had one week to get done with the funeral, get my mother into a home, and get my brother moved into my place before I had to return to work. The reality of that kept me awake all night, not getting a moment of sleep. There was just no way that was going to happen, it was going to take longer than a week. So after my family leave, I was going to have to juggle work and my family—in the exact predicament I had been avoiding for years. No matter how much I tried not to think about it, my thoughts always circled back around to it. And before I knew it, my alarm was going off. It was already seven in the morning. Putting my hands
over my face, I let out a loud groan. How could I have not slept at all?

  It took me ten minutes to force myself to get out of the bed. My entire body ached with exhaustion, my legs felt as though they were filled with cement. Every muscle screamed at me to lay back down, but I couldn’t. I promised Lyle I would be there first thing that morning. Moving into the bathroom, I turned on the cold water for a shower. Undressing and stepping into the tub, I dipped my head into the stream of water. A shiver ran down my back at the shock of the icy water. It instantly woke me up and actually eased my migraine a bit. The water was too cold to just stand around, though. Washing myself off quickly, I got out and dried off.

  My mind was elsewhere as I dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt, mostly distracted by thoughts of the day ahead. I had no idea what I was walking into with my mother’s condition. If she was worse than when I left… I simply couldn’t imagine it. I was so far beyond exhausted, I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle being around her. Letting out a shaky breath, I fixed a travel mug of coffee and grabbed my keys.

  While it was rare for me to drive anywhere other than the store or the hospital, but it felt completely foreign to drive to my hometown. I didn’t even know the way, having to use the GPS on my phone. My appetite was nonexistent with how sick it was making me to return to my childhood home. Memories of my adolescence had been haunting me since the moment I saw my brother. None of them were exactly warm memories, either. I hoped that once all of this was sorted out, that I would never have to think about this godforsaken town again. It was in my past, and that was the way I wanted it to stay.

  It was surprising how short the drive was, only taking thirty minutes. The six months I had been in my residency at the hospital, I was just thirty minutes away from my brother. I tried not to harbor on thoughts like that, knowing I was going to do everything I could to make things right for Lyle. Getting out of the car, I looked up to my childhood home. It was two-stories but not much bigger than the house I was renting. The brown shudders were hanging on for dear life, in desperate need of repair; the lawn was overgrown and taken over by weeds, and the rusted out body of a vintage Thunderbird was sitting on cinder blocks right out front. The place was definitely showing its age. Taking one final deep breath, I sauntered over to the house and knocked on the door. Within a few moments, the door opened.

  In the door frame was my petite mother, her chocolate brown hair dry and frizzed out, looking completely unkempt. Her sunken gray eyes brightened at the sight of me, extending her rail thin arms in my direction. “My sweet, Jason,” she grinned up at me.

  I averted eye contact, “Hi, mom. Can I come in?”

  “Of course, of course,” she nodded, lowering her arms and then stepping back to let me in. I walked in and looked around the living room, instantly noticing that her hoarding had gotten worse. The shelf-lined walls were nearly overflowing with knick-knacks, books, and various belongings. The clutter had always been a trigger for my father, always causing a major scene by throwing away stacks of her belongings at a time, no matter how loud or how hard she cried. It surprised me he had let it get this bad. “Oh, I just look a mess,” my mother muttered, trying to soothe her crazy hair.

  “You look fine, mom,” I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

  “No I don’t, no I don’t,” she insisted, shaking her head repeatedly. She hurried past me and ran upstairs.

  Lyle appeared in the archway to the kitchen, leaning against the wall. “She’s refusing to take her meds,” he explained. I looked over, seeing dark circles around my brother’s eyes. A deep frown took over my face.

  I walked over to him, patting his shoulder, “Why don’t you stay here and get some sleep? I’ll take mom to do the funeral stuff.”

  “You sure?” Lyle asked, his eyes widening. “She’s hard to deal with…”

  “I’m sure I can handle her. If she gets too much for me to handle alone, I’ll come get you,” I shrugged. Lyle nodded in agreement. Pacing over to the coffee table, I found a piece of paper and a pencil amongst the random items and jotted down my cell phone number. I handed it over to him, “Give me a call if you need anything, okay?”

  He took the paper from my hand and glanced over it before smiling up at me. “Thanks, Jase. It means a lot.”

  “Someone has to be rested around here,” I chuckled weakly.

  Loud footsteps sounded from the stairs, a few seconds later, my mother appeared from around the corner. She was in a long, flowy summer dress and heels; she also had her hair tied in a braid, and bright pink eyeshadow and lipstick caked on her face. I shook my head, “Mom, that’s not exactly an appropriate look for today…”

  She scoffed, “I just want to look good for my son, is that so bad?”

  “We’re going to a funeral home. Do you really think wearing your beach clothes is going to go over well with everyone?” I questioned her, my frustration seeping into my tone.

  “I’m going to go get dressed…” Lyle murmured.

  “No, I got this, Lyle,” I pressed.

  “No, I want Lyle to go! You’re so mean, Jason,” my mother pouted, crossing her arms.

  “He isn’t going, mom. He needs to sleep. And you need to go get changed right now,” I told her firmly. I wasn’t there to play her games, I was there to get everything sorted out so I could get on with my life.

  “You don’t see your mother for nearly fifteen years, and this is how you treat her!” my mother cried, bursting into tears.

  “Don’t be dramatic. It’s only been eight and a half years, mother,” I snapped a bit. I caught myself getting too worked up. Taking a few calming breaths, I looked back to her, “I’m sorry if I snapped. I’m just tired. Can you please go change? For me?” I asked, giving my mother a pleading look.

  Her eyes softened, and her posture relaxed, “Well since you asked nicely, I will.”

  “Thank you,” I nodded at her. She turned on her heel and headed back up the stairs to get changed. She was definitely going to have to go back on her medicine if I was going to make it through the week with my sanity intact. But that was a battle for later on, needing to get to the funeral home. I was just going to have to deal with her being unmedicated for the time being. And I didn’t have enough of her trust for me to convince her to take her medicine quite yet. Getting her through the process of going over the funeral details was going to be tasking. I looked over to Lyle with a weak smile, “See, I got this. I want you to get some real rest.”

  Lyle frowned and looked to the ground, not looking too convinced by my words. “I really don’t mind going. She’s going to be all over the place. You know how attached she was to dad. And—”

  “This isn’t up for debate, buddy. Get back to bed,” I told him.

  “Alright, fine. But let me give you the house number in case you need me,” Lyle said. Pulling out my cell phone, I handed it over to him. He added the number to my contacts and then passed it back. “If you start to have problems with her, you can try and bribe her with candy or soda. It worked for dad sometimes when she had fits.”

  I nodded, “Thanks for the tip. Hopefully it doesn’t get to that.”

  “Don’t get your hopes too high. Mom is just happy to see you right now,” Lyle grumbled.

  I figured as much. Lyle finally headed upstairs, and not soon after he left, my mom was coming back down. When she appeared this time, she was wearing a dark navy dress and a black cardigan; and her face was clear of makeup. “You look lovely,” I told her with a forced smile. I had to play nice with her a bit if I was going to gain her trust.

  “Thank you, Jason,” she blushed, giving me a courtesy. She was so weird.

  “Let’s get going,” I said, holding my hand out to her. Her slender hand held mine tightly as I guided her outside. “If you can be strong and keep calm while we’re there, mom, we can go for milkshakes after,” I offered, wanting to go ahead and plant the incentive in her mind.

  “Please, J
ason, I’m not a child,” my mother huffed. “I know how to act in public.”

  Yeah, right, I thought sarcastically to myself as I got in the car. I had witnessed her make a scene in public more times than I could count. We managed to get to the funeral home with my mom holding it together, though she did ramble an awful lot about all the ‘nice things’ my father had done for her since I left. It was painful to hear that she thought it was special that he treated her halfway decent. She gushed over things like my dad purchasing her medicines, getting her a present every holiday he remembered, coming home the majority of the nights out of the week, how he didn’t beat her anymore when she had an episode. He did the bare minimum to be considered a husband.

  Walking in the funeral home with my mother holding onto my arm, I spoke to the person at the front desk. “Hi, we’re here to make arrangements for Deacon Gilmore’s funeral.”

  My mother jerked away from my arm. I looked over to see her eyes were widened, “What do you mean for Deacon? What did you do to Deacon?” she asked in a panicked tone.

  Oh god, no. I extended my hands toward my mother, “Mom, I need you to calm down. He passed away the day before yesterday, remember? I wasn’t in town then.”

  “He did?” she whispered, eyes scanning the ground as she mulled through her memories. Dear god, how bad had her mind gotten? A trembling hand went over her mouth, “My poor Deacon. My poor, poor Deacon…”

  “Yeah, it’s real tragic,” I sighed, managing to get an arm around her shoulders. “I need you to hold it together, alright? We’ll just be here for a little while, then I’ll get you home.”

  “Okay, okay,” my mother muttered, tears in her big silver eyes.

  With a gentle smile, the funeral director approached us and guided us back to his office. He sat us down and pulled out booklets on caskets and packages they offered. Of course, my mother immediately began to wail at the top of her lungs. I knew it was hard for her, but I was already losing my patience. It was tough, but she could compose herself enough to have a conversation if she tried. The kind funeral director was trying his best to comfort her, but she was inconsolable. When I tried to touch her shoulder again, she snapped at me, screaming at the top of her lungs.