Page 49 of Maybe
Because they didn’t lie awake at night writing love songs.They didn’t have an eagle tattoo on their left hipbone. They didn’t convince the twins pinned moths came alive at night and crawled inside their ears.
They didn’t learn to fly, then fly away.
“Ezra needs me. We need each other. We… I told you, it’s complicated.”
“No shit. What about the rest of the family? How’s that going to go down, when you break the happy news to your mum you’re being boned by your stepbrother?”
“I… erm… I haven’t had time to think all that through, yet. But I perhaps wasn’t going to use that phrase.”
Unimpressed, Alaric snorted. “You can dress it up however you like, but it ain’t going to change the message, is it? I mean, you do you, Isaac, but ultimately, you’re laying out one hell of a bloody rocky road for yourself.”
I studied Alaric, the most honest friend I had. I exhaled through my nose, a slow, controlled breath that did nothing to ease the weight of my family’s expectations pressed against my ribs. I imagined breaking the news to my mother and her response, thick with disappointment.The only saving grace is that your father isn’t alive to see it, Isaac.
“I know.” I rubbed my palm across my stubbly jaw. I needed a shower, a shave, and a change of clothes. “But Ezra is more than my brother. He always has been. He’s a solid part of me, and I… I want to be with him.”
Coolly, elegantly, Alaric crossed his legs, like we were in a swanky Soho bar not perched on a broken hospital trolley in sweaty scrubs with a forty-foot sheer drop not three yards away. Telling all to Alaric was my first test, a practice run. I cared what he thought.
“I understand if you don’t approve,” I said cautiously. “But I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to.”
He laughed and stubbed out his fag end on the damp wall behind us. “You’re all right, sweetie. I’ll still respect you in the morning.”
“Where’s Daddy?”
Jonty’s weak, breathy question, muffled behind his oxygen mask, shook me from my nap.
Oh fuck, I knew this would happen. Unless I was in doctor mode with a stethoscope around my neck, little kids scared the bejesus out of me. Talking to them never came naturally. My voice would rise three octaves; they smelled my desperation like bloodhounds sniffed out baby rabbits.
“He’ll be back in a mo; he’s just gone to fetch us all a bite to eat.”
“I saw you at the swings, didn’t I? You’re Isaac.”
“Yes.” I threw my nephew a nervous smile, crossing my fingers he’d leave the more probing questions for a later date.
“I don’t feel well.” Jonty pushed the mask up onto his forehead. “Do I have to keep this on?”
I glanced over at one of the monitors. “You can take it off for a minute. But when one of the nurses comes back in, they’ll probably tell you to put it on again.”
“Daddy says you’re a doctor.”
“Yes.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s why you’re here.”
“Yes. But I’m not one of your doctors. I’m just here as a friend for Daddy.”
“He likes seeing you.” Jonty examined the infusion set running into the back of his hand. “He’s always talking aboutyou to Mummy, and he’s writing a song about you. What’s this thing for?”
“It’s delivering one of the medicines that makes the passages in your lungs less tight and swollen. A song about me?”
“Yeah. He’s been working on it for ages. It’s calledMaybe.”
“Is it any good?”
Jonty wrinkled his nose, contemplating. “It’s okay. It’s about love and stuff. I don’t think Neil and the band will ever sing it—it’s just going to be for Daddy to sing. About you. Can I have a drink, please?”
Yep, children still floored me. Even sick, breathless ones.
Ezra came back a minute later, climbed onto the bed with Jonty and snuggled against him, wires and all. “All right, my little drama queen?”
