Installment Six

I got the biggest surprise of my life a few days after that.  JR took me out for some ice cream, and then just asked me to go to prom with him!  He wanted me to go to prom with him?  Why?

“I want the prettiest girl in school to go with me – I want everyone to know she’s my girl.” He smiled at me winningly.  There was no way I could tell him no, not that I wanted to.

“Really?” I asked, finding it too good to believe.

“Yes, really,” he laughed a little.  “So… whaddya say?” He raised his eyebrows, smiling at me.

“Of course I’ll go with you,” I said.  He smiled wider, then leaned over and kissed me, right on the lips.  I can’t even begin to explain how excited I was.  I couldn’t wait to tell mom.

I came home from school and ran up the stairs to my room, threw my backpack on the floor, and ran back down the stairs calling for my mother.  I ran into the kitchen to see her standing there, her back to me.

“Mom, guess what?” I was too excited to wait for her to answer.  “JR asked me to go to prom with him!  Can you believe that?!” It was then I noticed she was crying.  I hated to see my mother cry, and the fact that she had been so down lately let me know that this was caused by whatever it was.  “Mom, what’s wrong?” She shook her head.

“Nothing, baby; I’m fine.”

“Mom,” I said consolingly.  “Why are you crying?” She shook her head a little.  “Does it have to do with Taylor?” When she didn’t answer I knew it did, and was suddenly infuriated.  Yeah right, sure he changed.  I turned and started to march away, and she must’ve known what I was going to do.

“Avery, don’t,” she said, pleading with me.

“Mom, I can’t stand the thought he made you cry.” I said back.

“Avie, he didn’t do anything.  He’s upstairs, in his room, asleep; he’s… sick.”

“So what?” I said.

“Please, just let him rest?” Why was she so adamant on me leaving him alone?  Big deal, he had the flu or something.  She doesn’t need to baby him.

“Okay,” I said, not wanting to argue with her.  “Mom… what’s up?  What’s going on?” She didn’t answer just shook her head.  I was sick of being left out.  If this was centered around Taylor, then he knew the answers to my questions, and he was going to answer them.

I climbed the stairs, going over in my head what I was going to say to him, and by the time I reached his door I didn’t know how to approach him.  I knocked a couple times and opened his door.  He wasn’t asleep like mom said, but he was sitting on his bed, his head rested back against the wall, his knees up.

“Taylor?” He looked at me, and I realized mom was nowhere near kidding.  He looked sick.  He was pale, very pale.  I know I’ve said that he looked pale in the last couple weeks, but this was a lot paler.  He swallowed hard.

“What are you doing in here?” He asked, his voice a whisper.

“What’s going on?  Why was mom crying?”

He shook his head slightly.  “Never mind,” he whispered, closing his eyes again.

“I’m sick of being left out.  Tell me what’s going on, right now.” I said, coming into his room.  I’d had enough of being left out of whatever loop it was between him, mom, and dad.

“Just… get out,” he said, his eyes still closed.

“Look, I’m making an effort here to talk to you, to get along – I want to know what’s going on.” He didn’t respond at first.  “Taylor!”

He got up off the bed, and for a minute I thought he was going to fall back onto it.  He stood for a moment, apparently steadying himself, and then came toward me.  He took me by the arm and started walking toward the door.

“Let go,” I said, trying to twist my arm out of his grasp, but he didn’t let go and kept walking toward the door.  “Damn it, Taylor!”

“Just go,” he said quietly; he didn’t even sound angry.  “Just leave me alone.” I turned to look at him, standing now in the doorway, and for the first time in a very long time I thought I saw tears in his eyes.

“Taylor,” my tone softened.  “What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied quietly.  “You don’t give a shit anyway.” He pushed me gently out the door and closed it before I could get another word in edgewise.  As much as I fought caring about him, I was worried now.  Something was wrong with him – I could see that now.  Whatever it was mom and dad knew about it, and it was enough to upset them for weeks.  The only thing I could think of was he had AIDS or something.  I suddenly felt very guilty for treating him so badly.  I mean, what if there is something really wrong with him, and God forbid he dies or something?  I’ll regret the way we’ve been to each other and I know it.  As much as I hated to admit it, I think everyone else was right: I needed to settle this thing with Taylor; I needed to make amends.

I was lying on my bed with the radio on, listening as some unknown singer sang some soft ballad.  She was singing about her broken heart, and all that stuff, and it was interrupted by some knocking on my door.  I was hoping it wasn’t my mother coming to tell me to leave Taylor alone or something like that.  It wasn’t my mother, but Jessica.

“What’s this I hear about prom?” She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back and sit up.

“How did you hear about that?” I asked her, motioning for her to come in.

“Mom mentioned it.” She sat down on the edge of my bed grinning like the biggest goofball I’ve ever seen.  “So…?”

“JR asked me to go,” I said smiling, looking down at my lap.  “And I said yes.”

“Well I’m happy for you, sweetie.  Now we can go dress shopping together.”

I looked at her, knowing that my eyes were huge.  “You mean that?  You’ll take me dress shopping?”

“Of course I will!” She shrieked.  “We’ll start looking this weekend.”

“Thanks Jessie!” I launched myself at her, hugging her tightly.  At that moment, if I already thought she was a great sister, she became the best sister on the face of the planet.  Seriously.  “You’re the best,” I whispered.  She laughed a little and squeezed me back.

As I lay in bed that night, I thought about really swallowing my pride and apologizing to my brother – but I scratched that idea.  I’d make an effort to be civil, but he was going to apologize first, and mean it.  It had been a very long time since I slept with any kind of stuffed animal, and I found myself holding Maggie close to me.  Having to write the paper about her brought up a lot of things I thought I had buried, and in retrospect, I guess it was a good thing; it made me face things that I had been running from.  I found myself holding her tightly, trying to feel like I had when I was just a little girl, wishing that I could recapture all of those memories and bring them to life…  After spending so long “hating” Taylor, I was beginning to realize no matter how angry your family makes you, you don’t hate them – ever.  I was feeling a little cross though, with myself, for letting my guard down and being so willing to just forgive all the hurt he caused.  But I guess that’s what this is all about.  I fell asleep with that doll cradled to my chest.

I stood at my locker, turning the correct numbers of my combination and opening it.  I shoved my book bag inside, sick of carrying it, and pulled out my Global History books.  My brothers got the best teaching in Global History – they traveled the globe, and learned what they needed to as they went, therefore, they remember things that I will probably never even understand in this Godforsaken class.

“Hey there.” I jumped when the words were said lowly into my ear, turning quickly only to meet JR’s eyes.  I relaxed and smiled.

“Hey yourself,” I replied.  He leaned down and kissed my lips right in front of everyone in the hallway, leaving me feeling a little embarrassed.  I looked around us and saw that hardly anyone had taken notice, thankfully.

“What’re you doing after school today?”

“Um, I don’t know.  I have some things to talk about with my older brother.”

“Which one?” He asked, knowing I had three.

“Taylor,” I replied, turning back to my books to get my assignment notebook.

“The one who looks like a girl?”

“JR, that wasn’t funny.” I slammed my locker shut and started to walk away.  Whoa.  Hold the phone and rewind.  What just happened?  Was I offended because someone insulted Taylor?  I insult Taylor.  What the…?

“Avery, I’m sorry.” He said catching up to me, but I kept walking.  “Avie, babe, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean it; I was only joking.”

“Well it isn’t funny,” I said, finally stopping.

“Okay,” he said softly, tucking my hair behind my ear.  “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.  Let’s drop it.”

“Fine with me,” he said, and looked down at my shirt, smiling a little.  He looked back up at me.  “You look sexy today.” I felt an embarrassed grin grace my face.

“Me?  Sexy?  JR are you feeling all right?” We started walking again.

“No, really,” he said.  “Showing a little cleavage is… nice.” I looked down at myself, and he was right, I did show a little cleavage.  And I mean a little.  I was flat-chested until a summer ago, and then all of a sudden I was wearing a B-cup one day.  Very strange, and beside the point.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him.  “You aren’t looking too shabby yourself these days.” He laughed and slipped his arm around my shoulders, walking with me.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to class.” He was walking me to class.  Was I in Heaven?  Oh yes I think I was.

When I came home everything was relatively quiet, with Mac and Zoë watching cartoons, and Isaac was around somewhere because I saw his car in the driveway when JR dropped me off.  I had to smile to myself – he was my boyfriend.  I found myself laughing at the thought of me having a boyfriend; the thought had never even crossed my mind until I found myself in the situation.

“What are you laughing at?” Ike asked me, coming in from the kitchen.  I shook my head, and he chuckled a little.

“Nothing,” I laughed.  “It’s just… I never thought I’d get a boyfriend…”

“Boyfriend?” He squinted at me.  “What boyfriend?”

“Well, JR, duh?” I shook my head, making my way toward the stairs.

“Oh no,” he said shaking his head.  “Come on, you gotta tell me more than that!”

“No way,” I said, shaking my head and laughing at him.  I bounced up the stairs

“Come on Avie!” He laughed.  “I promise not to hunt him down and… hurt him.” He called up the stairs behind me.

“Ha!” I threw my book bag on the floor in my bedroom, ending the conversation good naturedly.  I could always count on a good banter with Ike and or Zac, more so Zac than anyone else.  I stood quietly for a moment, thinking to myself.  Taylor’s door was closed, but… maybe I should try again to talk to him.  I still wanted to know what was up with him lately and moreover why it made mom cry and had dad so quiet.

I stepped out of my room, heading towards Taylor’s.  I didn’t knock, but I cautiously opened the door anyhow.  I was expecting him to throw me out again, but I got nothing.  I stepped in, praying the floorboards wouldn’t creak.  He was asleep.  In the middle of the afternoon?  What the…?  I was letting curiosity get the better of me, and I crept toward him; I wanted to know what was in that little “fanny pack” he was always hiding under the hem of his long-sleeved shirts.  Something about him looked different… no, something felt different.  I sat carefully on the edge of his bed, not moving, not touching him – I didn’t want to chance the fact I might wake him.  I looked at the “fanny-pack” and at his face – God… why was he so pale?  I reached out for it, hoping I could just take a peek inside to see something, anything.  I jumped considerably when he grabbed my wrist.

“What’re you doing?” He rasped.

“I… I was…” I was so startled that my brain forgot that I was supposed to be thinking up an excuse.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” he said, sounding almost scared.  “What were you doing?”

“I-I… I just… I wanted to see…”

“Avery.” I turned around to see my mother, a sympathetic expression on her face.  “I told you not to bother your brother…”

“I just wanted to know what was going on…” I wanted to slap myself; I had tears in my eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

“Come on, baby,” she said softly.  “Let him be.”

I turned to look at Taylor instead.  “Please, Tay…” I hadn’t called him Tay in so long…  “I just wanna know what’s wrong…” I don’t care what I said earlier – I’m eating my words: I was worried.

“Baby…” she was looking at Taylor now, not me.  “Maybe you should tell her…”

“Mom,” he said, and I swore there were tears in his eyes.  “I… I can’t…”

“I’m not forcing you,” she said softly.  “But you said you wanted to fix things with her; being honest is a good place to start.”

“Mom… I don’t think I can,” he said quietly, pushing himself up into a sitting position.  “She already hates me,” he continued to talk about me like I wasn’t there.

“I don’t hate you,” I said, causing him and mom to look at me.  “Tay… I could never hate you; you’re my brother…”

“Avie…” he said quietly.  We just stared at each other for a long moment, mom standing silently behind us.  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, tears fully visible in his eyes.  “I’m so sorry for everything I did…” I did something then that surprised me even – I hugged him.  I just reached out and pulled him to me, hugging him tightly.

“I love you, Taylor,” I whispered.  I felt any resolve I had just crumble.

“God I’m so sorry…” he whispered.  Taylor was crying.

“Tay, baby,” mom said softly.  “I think she needs to know.” He pulled back slightly, looking up at mom. 

“I’m going to give you two some time.” She looked at Taylor sorrowfully.  “I love you, baby,” she said softly, obviously holding back tears.  He nodded, and she quietly left the room.  I looked at Taylor, getting the very distinct feeling he was going to tell me something bad.

“Tay… what’s wrong?” I asked him, and he turned his eyes to the bedspread.  That was a dead giveaway that something was definitely wrong.

“Avie…” He said quietly.  He shook his head slightly. “Ave… I’m…”

“You’re what Tay?”

“Avie,” he said softly, lifting his eyes to mine once more.  “I… I’m sick.” He turned away for a moment, and those words raced through my mind.  Sick?  Sick how?  With what?

“So go to the doctor.” I said, but he shook his head.

“Avie, I’m sick.” In other words, this was serious, and I was scared.  My heart started to pound at a pace that ached in my chest.  Taylor and I haven’t been close in a long time, but with this reconciliation I was finding myself worrying about him like I would have six years ago.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice suddenly small.  “Like… like… AIDS?” My voice came out so quiet I wasn’t sure it came out at all.  He shook his head.

“No, not AIDS,” he said quietly.  “I’m not sure if this is just as bad or worse.”

“Tay…” I was fighting tears now.  “Does it have to do with that?” I asked, pointing to the “fanny pack”.  He nodded slightly, looking down at it.

“Yeah.” He spoke quietly, and stayed quiet for a moment.  I wondered what he was going to tell me, and after a long silence I just asked what it was.

“What is it?”

He tried to force a smile, but it didn’t work, and he almost cried instead.  “It’s… it’s, uh… a portable treatment unit.” He bit his lip, trying to keep from crying.

“Treatment?” I echoed.  “What kind of treatment?  For what?”

“It’s, um… it’s a portable chemotherapy unit,” he said, turning his head away.  I couldn’t breathe for a moment, and when I finally did release my breath it came out quickly.

“What?  Chemotherapy?  Why?” I asked one question right after the other.  “For what, Taylor?  Chemotherapy is for people with cancer.  You don’t have cancer.” I actually watched the tears roll down his cheeks before he could no longer look me in the eyes.  He was crying again.  “Tay…?”

“Yes I do,” he whispered.  My heart pounded heavily in my chest, the blood pulsing in my temples.  I shook my head, unable to even think it.  No, my brother was not that sick.

“No,” I said.  “You don’t have cancer, Taylor.”

He didn’t even bother to wipe the tears rolling down his cheeks.  “Yes I do,” he whispered.  Oh God… I shook my head again, suddenly forgetting how to breathe.  This wasn’t real…  This wasn’t real…

“No,” I repeated, “you don’t.”

“Avie,” he said quietly, sorrowfully.  “I really do.” I watched him lift his sleeve, and sure enough there was a little tube in his arm, like an IV; he lifted the hem of the shirt and I could see the tube running up under his shirt, coming to the spot in his arm.  He really was getting chemotherapy…

“Oh God…” I whispered, feeling tears building quickly.  “Taylor, no…” I took his hands in mine.  “Please no…” I looked him in the eyes, and I could see that he was very serious.  The tears rolled down his cheeks again.  This was my Taylor sitting in front of me, my old Taylor, and God he was hurting.  It was like I suddenly forgot all the wrong he’d ever done.  “What… what is it?” I whispered.

"Um,” his voice broke, and I squeezed his hands gently.  “You know what Leukemia is?” I covered my mouth with my hand.

“They…” I let my hand drop to the bed.  “They can fix it, right?  I mean, with the chemo?”

“I-I don’t know,” he stammered.  “They don’t know…”

“Taylor?”

“I’m really sick, Avie,” he said quietly.  “Really… really sick.”

“It’s not like you’re dying,” I said quietly, wiping tears, forcing an uncomfortable laugh.

“They aren’t too sure about that,” he said quietly, looking away from me again.

I stood up, backing away.  “Don’t say that,” I said, shaking my head.

“Avery, please…” he stood up, reaching out for me, but I backed away.

“How could you keep this from us?” I asked, tears running down my cheeks.  How could he just not tell us that there’s a possibility he was dying?  How could he just drop this bomb on me?  “How could you not tell me?!”

“Avery, please,” he pleaded with me.  “I didn’t tell you because I was pretty sure you hated me – “

“That makes no difference!” I yelled at him, tears streaming down my face.  I just started to run.

“Avery, wait!” He called after me. I could hear his footsteps behind me, trying to catch up with me as I ran down the stairs.  I had no idea where I would go, but I needed to get out of there.  That was just too much.  We fix things, and then he tells me he could be dying?  I really couldn’t handle that.

“Avery?” It was my mother but I ran passed her, headed for the front door.

“Avery, please wait!” I heard Taylor behind me.  I was almost sobbing when I ran out the front door, slamming it behind me.  Part of me wanted to run back, wrap my arms around him, make sure he was ok, but more of me needed to run away, get away from what I’d just found out.  I suddenly wished I was left out of the loop again.

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