“Hunny? Are you ready for me to take you to the shelter? I have time.”
“I’m not going,” I called.
“Can I come in?”
When I didn’t answer, she entered. I awaited the blinding switch of the light, but instead, there was a shift in the bed and a hand on my back.
“Do you want to talk?”
“No.”
“Work will help.” Mom’s hand felt good against my back. It was nice not to hurt in at least one part of my body.
“I don’t want to work. I want to sulk and be sad, and I want everyone to just let me waste away. Not like I’m any help, anyway.”
What was I going to do? If this big final battle finally came, I’d do what? Stand around and hope for the best? It made no sense for me to be there and no sense for me to try. I was waiting for Aaron to ask me to stay home and confirm what I knew: I was the useless little brother.
“You know . . . when I first arrived, I stayed locked away in my cabin for weeks. I did nothing but think of what a terrible mother I had been and everything I should have done differently.”
“Now I know where I got it from. Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled.
“That was until my neighbor suggested the clinic. It’s been the only thing that’s gotten me through. Being at the shelter will help pass the day-to-day while you see what the next step is.”
“Feels like doing nothing.”
“Sometimes we have to wait for the right moment. And you’ll know when it is. We all help in our own way. Maybe your moment just hasn’t happened yet.”
Mom believed in me for some strange reason. It helped to look at her and to lean into the comfort like I used to. I wished things hadn’t changed and I could enjoy that comfort, but every time I thought about it, I remembered my older brothers needed comfort too, and they weren’t here to have Mom rub their back. They needed it more than me.
“This is going to interfere with my plans to watchTarzanat least ten times today.”
She smiled while moving a lock of hair from my eyes. “It will be waiting for you when you get home. I’ll watch with you.”
With that, I finally found the strength to get out of bed and turn on the light.
“Come on, Sarah. Good girl, come on.” I ushered the all-black husky out of her kennel.
Her name was further proof I was being punished for something.
I tried not to like dog Sarah at first, but she was always following me around being cute. My coworker, Sydney, said I was Sarah’s favorite and before I came around she’d lay in her kennel all day and mope. Then when I came along, she magically liked to play and eat all her food. I think we needed each other. Being sad was our favorite hobby.
Sarah trotted along to the playpen for her outside time. She was popular with the other dogs but only if I was watching her. If I left to go fill up the food, she’d wait for me by the door. It was annoyingly adorable.
“I didn’t know you had a shift today.” Sydney came around the corner, sporting another ponytail. That was her thing.
“I took an extra one. Needed a break from my family. I just needed a break.”
Probably the only time I’d ever said that sentence.
“Oh, I get it. My sisters piss me off all the time. Love them, but damn.”
“Exactly. This is the only place I have that’s normal.”
Sydney smiled, and it eased my guilt. Barely. “Come with me on break.”
I agreed. I didn’t mind the company. Since I didn’t eat on my breaks, I’d usually just watch soap operas till my time was up.
“Sarah, stay,” I said as she ran to walk out the door with me.