The ride home was quiet. When we got to the house, Cutter slammed the car door twice and stomped up the stairs. I ignored him. It was the only way to deal with a sullen teenager, according to the wise words of my mother.
After Nova’s bath and a bedtime story, I tucked her in and left her door ajar. Bracing for attitude, I then knocked on Cutter’s door.
“Yeah?”
I cracked it open a bit. “Do you take the bus in the morning?”
“Mom usually takes me.”
“Okay, what time do we need to leave?”
Cutter gave me the time and told me to drop Nova off after him.
“Okay, good night, Cutter.”
“Toni?”
He said my name as I began closing the door. There had been a time when I was “Ant Toni,” making a play on my name, but he hadn’t called me that since he’d turned thirteen. I missed those days.
“What’s up?”
“Is Mom okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
Cutter shrugged. “The last couple of months, she hasn’t been feeling well. She had a cough and said it was nothing, but she seemed very tired.”
I let his words sink in and worked hard to mask my facial expressions. “When she gets home tomorrow, I’ll ask her.”
He stared, long and hard. No doubt trying to figure out if I was lying or not. I hated lying to him. When he was little, I promised to always tell him the truth. But I’d also promised Miri. Besides, his mother wasn’t home because she was having testing done, and if it turned out she was sick, that would be something Miriam would have to tell her children.
“Good night,” I said after a long silence. Cutter gave me a half smile and turned in his swivel chair toward his desk. Slowly, I closed the door and stood there for a moment with my fist poised to knock again. I remembered being a teen and how hard life seemed then, and that was when life was easy. Of course, I could only say that because being an adult with bills and responsibilities wasn’t all that fun.
I walked down the hall to Miri’s room and went in. It was better for me to believe she was away at work than lying in the hospital. As I crawled into her bed, I thought about calling her but didn’t want to wake her. Knowing her, though, she was likely staring out the window, looking at the stars. I got up, opened her blinds, and then texted her:I’m looking at the stars.
Me too,she texted back right away.
This would be enough for the night.
The next morning, after dropping the kids off at school, I called Brendan to check in and told him I should be back by dinner. I was that optimistic about Miri’s test results. On my way to the hospital, I stopped and got us both coffees and doughnuts, even though the latter wasn’t on any approved list. Hers or mine.
“Knock knock,” I said as I pushed my way into her room. I had forgotten she was technically in a shared room, but she was the only one in there at the moment. When I came around the curtain, Miri’s face lit up when she saw the muted grayish-brown recyclable tray in my hands. “I’m probably going to get into trouble for bringing junk food.”
“I don’t care.” Miri sat up in bed and reached for her coffee. She took a sip and sighed. “The nurse brought some this morning, bless her heart. It was trash. I don’t know how they survive on that sludge.”
“That’s probably what keeps them functioning.”
Miri reached for the bag and took out the fresh Boston cream doughnut. “Did you get these at the Cozy Cup Café?”
“I did. Cutter said you liked their pastries.”
“Samira has become a good friend.”
I popped an eyebrow at my lifelong friend. “Are you replacing me?”
Miri didn’t miss a beat and nodded. “Samira lives here. You don’t.”
“Ouch. That hurts.”
