Page 23 of Piece By Piece

Dear Aly

First things first, happy birthday, dear. I hope I did everything correctly and this letter reached you on the right day. If not, let’s just pretend it did;) I hope you have a great day! Maybe you can tell us all about what Lily planned foryou this year when you come to visit us soon? Your father and I miss you greatly.

I’m afraid I don’t have much good news for you, my dear, and I hate to tell you this on your birthday, but you have the right to know. Your father had a heart attack and had to take leave from work. He is recovering, don’t worry, but I’m sure he’d be very happy to see you. Feel free to swing by whenever you’re free, dear, we know you’re busy.

Love, mom

By the time I finish reading, my heart is a cold rock in my chest and the tears I managed to hold back so bravely when I realized I didn’t have any juice are now an unstoppable force behind my eyes. I sigh, my whole body deflating before I drop my head in my hands and just start sobbing.

My dad’s sick and had to take leave from work. Shit, they can’t afford that. I already know what that means, why my mother texted me now. She came to the same conclusion and wants my help.

Panic seizes my chest and I take a choppy breath. I can’t believe this is happening again. I don’t want to do this. I can’t take care of them again when I’m barely staying afloat myself. I don’t have the recourses or the emotional capacity for it.

I rub my knuckles over my chest, feeling the space inside it tightening and tightening until my lungs barely feel able to expand enough for my next breath. I cry harder despite my best efforts to pull myself together. It seems I’m too tired to get myself back on track right now.

I wish Lily was here. She always knows what to do and she’s the only one that could understand what I’m feelingright now. She knows about my past, almost every feeling and situation little me had to go through.

But if I told her about this, I know what she’d say. She’d say I needn’t worry about it because she can support me and my family until they get back on track. She’d do whatever it took without hesitation because that’s the kind of person she is.

But I can’t let her do that. No way. Least of all before I had a talk with my parents and got a better idea of the situation they’re in. I don’t think I could ever look Lily in the eyes again if I let her do this for me, on top of everything she’s already done.

No, I got it. Of course, I do. I just need to survive this moment, take deep breaths, and then figure out a game plan. I have things under control. It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.

But first, it seems I have to pay my parents a visit.

“Oh, hey, dear. So you did get our letter, what a lovely surprise. Come in, come in,” my mother bustles when she opens the door for me, her smile too wide for the circumstances. She steps aside, yelling, “Albert, it’s Aly!” Then she pulls me in a tight hug.

I pat her back awkwardly, really just wanting to see my dad. When she finally lets go of me, I shoot her a forced smile and ask, “Where’s dad?”

“On the couch, come on,” she replies, already leading me there as if I didn’t know the way. She seems awfully fidgety.

When I see my dad lying on the couch, his face pale despite the small smile playing on it, my steps falter. Fuck, I didn’t think it would be this hard seeing another parentlook so weak in the same spot my mother always used to suffer her crashes out on. But now I’m here, struggling to keep any flashbacks at bay and my voice even as I greet him.

I can’t stand this house.

“Hey, dad,” I say, crouching down next to the couch to be at eye level with him.

“Hey, Honey,” he replies, gently placing his hand on mine – a gesture oddly affectionate for him. He’s normally not very touchy, and I try not to react to the discomfort it invokes. He looks past me to tell my mother, “Linda, will you give us a second?” He gives me his attention again as soon as her steps disappear. “How have you been, Aly?”

I give him a look. “I’ve been good, dad. I’m not the one who had a heart attack.”

He keeps smiling, undeterred by my flat voice. “That’s good to hear.”

I can’t believe him. “Dad, what happened?” I ask. I mean, a heart attack? Really? I know he hasn’t had the least stressful life but he’s not that old yet. Definitely not the age where I should have to worry about himdyingof natural causes.

“The doctor said it was just due to stress. I’ll just have to eat a little healthier, exercise a bit, and take my medicine and I’ll be just fine. It looks like I won’t even need surgery.” Thank god for that. There’s no way my parents could have afforded heart surgery. He squeezes my hand before his face turns somber. “I’m afraid it’s not me we have to worry about,” he adds, his voice taking on a hush.

I’m sure my confusion is clear in my features even when the man gives a meaningful look in the direction where my mother disappeared in. My dad lowers his voice impossibly further. “Honey, I think your mother relapsed. It was a great shock for her when she found me on out cold the floor andhad to call 911. She was upstairs when it happened, you know, and heard me fall.”

“What? No. What makes you think she relapsed? She’s been clean for years,” I protest, aware of the panic I’m unable to mask rising with every word.

“They gave me pills after I was released from the hospital. Morphine, among others. A week ago, I was unable to find the nearly full bottle of them and when I asked Linda about it, she said I probably just misplaced it when I know I didn’t.”

The last of his words only barely reach me through the fog clouding my mind. My mother stole my dad’s morphine? That’s not possible. She wouldn’t relapse after so many years of being sober. Especially not at a time like this when my dad needs her. She’s the only one able to work at the moment and she knows it. If she loses her job, they’re screwed. She wouldn’t take that risk. Not because of a little stress.

She can’t be that selfish. I don’t want to believe that. Plus, she doesn’t seem high right now. I’m sure I’d recognize that.

My dad keeps talking while my mind is reeling. “I know how hard this must be to hear for you and I hate to burden you with this. I just think it might help if you came over for visits a little more. Only if you can squeeze it into your tight schedule somehow, of course. But maybe that could give your mother something to look forward to and distract her. She always talks about how much she misses you.” He gives me a pained smile as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me with those words.

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