My lips tremble. “There is?”
“Yeah, baby sister.” He blinks, moisture shining along his lash line. “There is.”
My eyes squeeze shut and I nod. Slowly, he leans forward, kissing my temple before he releases me and falls against the wall at his back.
Cameron crawls into bed beside me, facing me on top of the covers.
Slowly, my breathing settles, and a soft smile pulls at her lips.
Tears fall from Cameron’s eyes, and when I reach up, wiping them away, she chuckles.
My eyes close, and a little while later, the sound of my door opening and closing has me stirring. My brother is gone, but Cameron is sound asleep in front of me. Whispers from the hall reach my ears.
“Tell me she’s okay.”
“She’s not. She’s pushing it all away. She’s going to break.”
“I’m going in.”
“I don’t think it’s the best time for that.”
“She’s mine, Mason. I should be the one to hold her. To remind her that she’s stronger than she knows.”
I drift off again, my dream full of a flashing color.
Of blue.
Of a bottomless, brilliant, ocean night blue.
His.
I’m his.
Whose?
Noah
* * *
Yesterday was rough. Last night was worse.
That seems to be the downward trend.
I wake wishful, and I go to sleep weak and weighted. I keep waiting for the moment when things will get better, but they don’t. Every day brings a new mountain to climb, and it only gets higher, steeper. It’s as if I’m at the bottom with a broken harness and no rope.
Except there seems to be an invisible one wrapped around my chest, and it tightens every time I look up to see her smiling face, pointed at a man who’s not me.
My mom’s going to realize things are getting worse the moment I’m in front of her, so I make a quick stop in the bathroom, splash some water on my face and take a moment to mask the broken man in the mirror.
It takes a little less effort when I reach her, finding her bed raised to the highest sitting position and a smile on her face.
“Hey, Mom.” I slip closer, my grin feeling a little foreign. I notice the wheelchair beside the bed and then Cathy steps around me.
“Hey, Noah.” She offers a small smile, meeting my eyes for a moment before focusing on my mom. “This young woman here has been watching the clock for you today.”
My mom swats at her playfully, and then she does something I’ve yet to see her accomplish, maneuvers her hips at a ninety-degree angle. On her own.
Her eyes come up to mine and a low chuckle leaves me. “Whoa, now. What’s this?” I rush around, unable to control the smile on my face as she reaches for me.
Taking her right hand in mine, I guide her, ready to support her left side, should she need me to, but she twists, planting right into the seat. Bent at the knee, I look up at her, and I’m almost overcome, but I don’t want to spoil this, so I swallow it back. “Someone has been killing it in therapy, huh?”
My mom laughs gently. “I’m feeling great, son.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I push to my feet, leaning in to hug her. “So, where we going?”
“Cathy says there’s little cakes in the cafeteria next door. Thought we could try it out, see if it’s anything like mine.”
I chuckle, my knee bouncing. “Doubtful.”
“Well, we’ll just have to see. Besides, the coffee here tastes like used grinds, so I could use one step up.”
“You know I would have brought you something if you’d have asked.”
She waves me off, patting at the wheel, so I slip behind her, gripping the handles. “I wanted to go with you. I hear the decorations are still up in there.”
Smiling, I nod at Cathy and off we go.
Two slices of chocolate cake and an abandoned cup of coffee later, my mom sighs, her eyes on the giant nutcracker outside the long windows. She trails along the lit-up garland to the snowman holding a Christmas book.
“Do you remember the year we spent Christmas in the mountains?” She looks to me. “You said you didn’t want any gifts, but a night in the snow, so we booked that small cabin for one night?”
“And then we got snowed in and got to stay for another night for free.”
My mom laughs, a softness falling over her. “Yeah, we got lucky, didn’t we?”
She turns back to the table, picking at the frosting left on her plate, her eyes roaming the room with such joy, my throat thickens.