“I’m okay,” she answers. And for a second, it almost sounds like she’s relieved someone asked her that.
“I’ve been off grid with Ingrid and Cash,” I quickly try explaining my lack of responses. “We’ve spent the last few days road tripping out to California.”
“Ah,” she says, her tone casual. “Spending your summer off grid. Sounds nice.”
“Listen,” I mumble as I clear my throat. “I only read a few of your messages. I know things are pretty serious with your mom right now. If you need to talk about it…” I trail off, my throat uncomfortably tight. “I’m here.”
She exhales, and it sounds like the weight of the world is being lifted off her shoulders.
“They caught it too late,” she begins. “We had no idea. Looking back now, there were signs, but they were also easily explained away. Fatigue. Weight loss. The occasional bruise that lasted a little too long. We never thought—” She cuts off quickly, and I hear a small sob.
I’m not great at this, but as I look up and see Ingrid standing on the edge of the water, watching the sky turn fiery red as the sun slips lower on the horizon, I take a deep breath.
I can do this.
I can be the person Elowyn needs right now. Even if it’s just ten minutes.
“Do you remember that little dog your mom had a few years ago?” I say. Elowyn doesn’t say anything, but I keep going. “She called it Cupcake and I couldn’t stand it. But,” I quickly add, “she loved your mom.” I only saw the dog a few times. Those rare visits where we all tried to be a family but failed miserably.
“She did,” Elowyn whispers.
“Sometimes, I wonder if I had kept coming around, maybe Cupcake would have warmed up to me.”
Elowyn inhales sharply. She knows I’m not just talking about Margot. I’m talking about her. About life. About all of it.
“Dad’s not doing well,” she mutters. “He just keeps finding excuses not to be home.”
Yeah, sounds like him.
He and hard things don’t mesh well.
“I…” Elowyn trails off.
“He’s not really the person you look to for comfort,” I try.
“I can see now why you stayed away,” she says. “When things are going well, he’s great. Butwhen they’re not, he’s gone. He’s not here. I have to do it all on my own.”
Another child he’s abandoning when they need him most.
Seriously, Father of the Fucking Year.
“I’ll be home soon,” I tell her. “I can stop by and help.”
“Oh, Wilder,” she cries. “No. That’s too much. I just… I needed to get it off my chest. And—” she sniffles—”I needed to tell you that I’m sorry. I have been pushing you to come around for years and I can see now why that was hard for you.”
The words make my head hurt.
I hate that I’ve known the world is decidedly unfair and Elowyn is just figuring it out now.
“Is there anything I can do?” I ask her.
My sister inhales sharply. “I know this is a big ask, but would you mind coming to the funeral?”
A lump forms in my throat.
“I don’t think Dad will be there,” she quickly adds. “You’re the only family I have, really. I… if you could just stop by for thirty minutes, it would mean so much to me.”
I want to say no. That’s the coward’s route. The one that makes me feel least uncomfortable.
