Page 23 of Sure, Pal

Charlie’s blue eyes flicked up to meet mine. “Hey.”

I walked into her room and sank down next to her on the bed. “I’m going to rent something, Charlie. You won’t have to have me as a roommate.” I grinned and nudged her with my elbow.

She nodded.

“How are you doing?”

Charlie shrugged. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to chat. I was about to get up and leave when she suddenly spoke. “My high school graduation is the last big moment in my life that dad will be a part of. I should be grateful that I at least get that, right?” She met my gaze with eyes full of questions.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I didn’t have answers, only more questions. “They’re really only giving him six to eight months?” I asked.

“Yup.”

“They’re really saying the tumor is inoperable?” Bea had tearfully given me all the details of our dad’s illness over the phone last week, but I almost didn’t believe her. Bea was a drama queen.

Charlie let out a long deep breath. “Yup.”

“I call bullshit. Dad looks strong and healthy. This can’t be real.” I ran my hands through my hair.

Charlie gave me a half-smile. “If anyone could beat these impossible odds, it would be dad.” She leaned her head on my shoulder. “What are you going to do about soccer?”

I’d signed a contract with Cali United about a month ago. It wasn’t the team I wanted to play for. It wasn’t even the league I wanted to play in, but it was a way to keep playing my favorite sport. “Uh, practice doesn’t start until September, so I have a few months to figure it all out.” It was the beginning of May, now, so I had exactly four months to decide.

Charlie sighed. “Yeah. Maybe dad will have miraculously conquered his inoperable brain tumor by then.”

I grinned. “I’m counting on it.” I told myself I didn’t know what I would do with my soccer contract yet, but deep down, I knew I’d drop it if my dad weren’t improving.

“Well, kid.” I patted Charlie’s knee. “I’m going to go look for an apartment and a job while I’m here.”

“Cool.” Charlie’s voice was deadpan. “Maybe I’ll move in with you if aunts and uncles and ‘old friends’ keep parading through our house.”

I laughed. “Wherever I end up, you’re always welcome.”

“Thanks.”

We could hear the lawnmower shut off outside, and I felt my heart start to pound. I’d spoken to my dad on the phone once since his diagnosis, but we heavily avoided talking about the cancer.

I stood and headed down the stairs. I watched him standing in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water. He glanced up and smiled at me. “Hey, son.”

“Hey, dad.” He looked fine.

???

Rob looked at me like I was from Mars when I told him about my dad. I hated it. I hated the fucking pity in his eyes. He had two roommates, but said I was more than welcome to his couch. I declined his offer and decided I’d rather live alone anyway. Being around people sucked lately.

I slept on the sectional in my parents’ living room for a week, and then I picked up a part-time job bartending at a little Italian restaurant called Emiliano’s. Once I had a job, I rented an apartment. Charlie wasn’t wrong; there really was a constant parade of aunts, uncles, and neighbors coming in and out of my parents’ house.

It was exhausting and suffocating.

And I felt powerless.

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