Page 24 of Piece By Piece

Every one of them hits me right in the chest and fills my stomach with more and more guilt. I can’t believe we’rehaving this talk. My father had a heart attack, for god’s sake, and I only learn about it two weeks later. What kind of child does that make me?

And now my dad tells me that my mother’s addiction might become a problem again because I couldn’t be bothered to visit them some more. After everything they did for me growing up.

They need me and yet, my head manages to somehow make this about me as the panic within me rises. I don’t want to do this again. Hell, I can’t do this. Not when I’m already struggling to keep my own head above water with the low salary I get. How am I supposed to take care of an addict for a mother and a sick father?

“How long is your leave of absence? Is it paid?” I ask, hating how selfish the motives for this question are.

But my dad just shakes his head. “I didn’t take leave from work, Honey. That’s what I told your mother so she wouldn’t panic.”

“What do you mean?” Damn, I almost sound like a kid to my own ears. A hopeful kid that knows, deep down, that it’s about to get some terrible news.

“I was laid off, Honey. I’m already looking for a new job but it’s hard with the condition I’m in.” Just like that, the world starts spinning.

“They fired you? How? Is that even allowed?” I demand shakily. He ignores me and squeezes my hand again.

“I am really sorry, Aly. Please, don’t worry about it too much just yet, okay? I’m sure everything will be just fine. Maybe I’m wrong and your mother just slipped. It doesn’t mean she’ll go back to the way she was. And I’m looking for a job. Until then, we have a few savings we can survive off of, and if need be, we can always sell the house and move into a smaller apartment,” he tries to assure me. It onlymakes me feel worse. If he’s already thinking about such matters, things can’t be as good as he wants to pretend.

“I want to help. Tell me what I can do,” I insist.

“For now, I have things under control. Just promise you will visit a little more, please.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry I didn’t come here sooner, dad. You need to keep me posted from now on. On your health and mom. Give me your phone, I’ll put in my new number,” I say.

I never bothered to give my parents my number, most of all because I didn’t want them to be able to reach me so easily. I wanted an excuse to only reply to their messages after some time, but things changed now. I need my dad to be able to reach me if he needs to. I’m the only one he can counton.

Chapter 14

Aliena

11 years ago

“Aliena, Honey, is the food almost done?” my father asks as soon as he returns from work. My heart rate picks up at the sound of his voice and nearing footsteps, but I’m not scared, just nervous that I did something wrong.

Daddy works hard all day so we can keep living at home, finance mommy’s medicine, and have food in the fridge for me to prepare, it’s the least I can do to do my chores right. I want to do them right and make dad happy. He deserves as much. I know he is stressed because mom is still not feeling better after so many years of being sick and I’m happy to ease his stress.

“I’m plating it right now,” I shout back, hurrying up just enough not to mess up. When I am done with the plates, I carry two to the tables and sit down opposite dad, eager to see his reaction. I think I’m pretty good in the kitchen, or at least better than all my friends. None of them know how to cook anything. I had to learn my way around over the years and try to get better by watching cooking videos whenever I have the time. Still, there are always butterflies in my stomach when I wait for dad to take his first bite.

Before he picks up the fork, he says, “Thanks, Honey. Did you make enough for mommy?”

“Yes, her plate is in the kitchen,” I tell him. I’ll have to beg her to eat some of it later. She rarely has an appetite because she occasionally sneaks into the kitchen during the day to snack. It comes and goes in waves. She never eats with us.

“Has she eaten anything so far?” he asks, his voice weary.

“No,” I say, hating that that is the answer. I know daddy doesn’t want to hear that. He sighs and nods to himself, pushing his chair away from the table again.

“I’ll check in with her and bring her her food. You should eat while it’s hot,” he tells me, forcing a tired smile, but I’m already getting to my feet anyway.

“Let me do it. You only just got home, dad. Eat, please. I’ll take care of mommy,” I argue.

If anything, my words seem to make him even sadder, and my heart grows cold. I hate how tired he looks. There are days when he looks almost as sick as mommy, and it scares me.

“Okay. Thank you, Princess. You’re a blessing,” he says, sitting back down. At least now, the pressure in my chest eases again. Daddy starts eating and I go back into the kitchen.

Upstairs, I enter my mom’s dark room and turn on the bedside lamp before sitting down on the chair next to her bed. “Mom, it’s time for dinner,” I tell her softly. She’s sleeping and doesn’t react. I lean over to shake her bony arm.

“Mommy, you haven’t eaten all day. Come on.” She still doesn’t stir and my shoulders slump slightly inresignation. Yeah, I’ll be here for a while. Maybe I’ll get to eat dinner with daddy tomorrow.

By the time I go back downstairs, daddy is asleep on the couch. The tightness in my chest has returned by then and it’s only getting worse. It happens often that daddy tries to say awake in the evening to spend some time with me, so he stays downstairs instead of going to bed. In the end, he can’t help but fall asleep, and then he wakes up with bad muscle aches.

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