Drowning in You by Rebecca Berto Page B

meeting my glare.
    “ Are you proud
of this? Is that it?”
    “ I-I was going
to show Daddy when we—”
    “ Hold up.” I
press the drawing into a cup holder and hold out my hands,
wondering why my fingers hurt when I flex them. Then I shake my
head and tell myself to think, think, think. “You were going to
show our father this drawing making fun of him dying and making fun
of his kidneys not working?”
    “ Well my
friends thought it was funny.”
    “ Your friends
aren’t in our situation, Darcy! How could you be so hurtful?
Darcy…” His face is pale and full of fear. “I know you have no idea
how serious this is but Dad’s very, very sick. So sick he might be
in hospital for a long time. And we don’t know when he’ll get
better. Making fun of the accident is never acceptable. I need to
you apologize to me, to Dad, and promise you’ll never do something
like this again.”
    “ I swear it,
Charlee. I’m so, so sorry. I swear it. I’m sorry…” He continues
like this alternating between sorrys and promises.
    Guilt wracks
me and I feel like a cranky, annoying mother. Exactly what I’ve
never wanted to be to him. What I’ve been conscious my whole life
not to do. To be his equal, not his dominator. I’m still trying to
be his sister. I don’t want to be his mom. Gosh, I can’t handle this ! How am I meant to
be responsible enough for the rest of his life, let alone my own? I
can’t do it.
    “ Oh, Darce.
I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been that mean. Come
here.”
    I pull him into a hug and he
heaves continually into my chest, gasping for air and
sniffling.
    When he calms, he says, “I
didn’t know Dad would be in hospital for very long. I thought…”
    “ Oh,” I say,
sighing. I should tell him Dad won’t make it, but I can’t say he’ll
die. As his sister I can’t hurt him like that. I don’t know what
our mom would do because she’s gone, too, so I sit like this, with
my hands fidgeting in my lap and wondering how I could go from
“fixing” Elliot’s phone and smiling at his lips on my cheek to
this—feeling like I’m drowning in all this.
    “ I thought he
was going to die,” Darcy says. My head pops up and I look at him as
he explains, “Dad told me his kidneys were too lazy to work and
that it probably meant he would have to fight death. I didn’t know
what he meant so I drew it for my friends.”
    Speechless, I
start the car again and drive home. I can’t go to the hospital like
this. Skipping one day can’t hurt. Elliot and I exchanged numbers,
conversation and even a kiss today but Dex is back in my
thoughts. What matters is that he’s
willing to fight despite his chances, rather than
sooking.
    One boy, ten; one guy,
twenty-one. Both are accepting the fact my dad will die. This is so
wrong. My dad can’t die. He can’t die until I’m ready for him to
die and those plans extend at least another quarter century.
    When my cell rings through the
Bluetooth in the car, I know it can’t be Elliot, no matter how
excited he might be about speaking to me. This feels too much like
bad news to be Elliot.
    I’m right.
    “ Ms. May?” an
official-sounding voice says.
    “ Um, yes? Is
everything…” but I also can’t make myself say “okay” because that
would validate everything must not be okay. Maybe if I wish enough.
Are you listening, God? I won’t mock you and ask if he’s okay but
please don’t say…
    “ I think you
better come down to the hospital right now.”
     
    * * *
     
    I tell Darcy he better have
everything he wants in his hands or pockets because I’m locking the
car the moment I jump out, whether or not he’s with me. He
obliges.
    Is Dad dying? No.
    Will he be okay? Don’t
know.
    What happened? Don’t know.
    As expected the parking lot is
full. It’s peak visiting hour after school. We find a spot a row
from the end. I don’t have time to pick up my handbag in my rush;
both of us bring just our bodies. Luckily, our swimming training
means