Page 58 of The Other Half

She nods. “Yes, and Oakley, I’m sorry it didn’t happen sooner. But from now on you can trust that your needs will come before your father’s. I’m sorry I haven’t been as good as I could have been to you.” I watch as she wipes a tear from her eye before it can fall.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. I hop off the chair I’m sitting on and cross the room, pulling her in for a hug. She squeezes me tight, giving me one of those hugs only a mother can give, one that feels safe and comforting.

“It will be,” she replies.

Chapter 45

Oliver

This morning I woke up feeling relieved about the beginning of winter break, but now I have an anxious feeling lodged in the pit of my stomach. I have to go two whole weeks wondering if Oakley is alright, if she’s safe from her shithead father. I hate this, I feel so useless.

I slide my phone out of my pocket, checking again for a reply that I know isn’t there. I type out another message to her, even though I know I’m probably getting on her nerves at this point. I realize what I’m doing; confusing her after she’s already started to move on.

Oliver: Please just let me know you’re okay.

The “delivered” checkmark never pops up next to my message. Did she block me? I don’t think she would, but maybe she decided she’s had enough of my shit after all.

I look around at my living room, taking in the lack of Christmas spirit on display. Usually we have a tree with garland and ornaments, but this year all my mom managed to do was hang the stockings. I don’t blame her for that, I can’t imagine how much stress she’s under right now. But it makes me sad, Liam is still so young, this time of year is supposed to be exciting and magical for him and I know it isn’t. He just seems confused about why all of us are so quiet and distant these days.

As I’m thinking about him, the elementary school bus pulls to a halt in front of our house, the faint smell of diesel fills my nostrils when I open the front door for him. He jumps off the bus and runs up the driveway towards me with a giant grin on his face.

“It’s almost Christmas, Oliver!” He yells as he approaches the porch, swinging his backpack around excitedly.

“I know, bud.” I give him a quick hug when he makes his way through the door.

“Let’s put up the Christmas tree,” he says. Guess he noticed, too. “Where will Santa leave the presents if there’s no tree?”

What was left of my heart disintegrates. I know there aren’t going to be any presents this year. Maybe socks or a toothbrush in the stockings, but I know there’s absolutely no money for toys. Nearly every penny is going toward Dad’s treatments now. On the bright side, he is getting disability checks now, so some of the stress is off of Nate’s shoulders, but I know it’s not a lot of money.

“You’re right, let’s put up the tree.”

I spend the next hour digging the old artificial tree and boxes of ornaments and lights out of our dilapidated shed. We put the thing together and string multicolored lights around its branches, some of the tiny bulbs are burned out but Liam doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just thrilled to be doing something with me, and I feel bad that I don’t make more of an effort to spend time with him. I know that I need to, especially now and going forward.

While we hang ornaments on the tree I try to come up with ideas for putting something under the tree for him. In the summers past I’ve mowed people’s lawns around town to make a few dollars, but right now I can’t think of anything people would pay me for. I’m extremely tempted to walk to the Walmart that’s five miles away, stuff as much shit as I can into my backpack and run.

“That looks real nice, boys,” my dad drawls from behind us. I turn around to see him hobbling towards the tree. He’s so skinny now, and he’s started to lose his hair. I can tell he’s in a lot of pain. Dad was always a strong and vibrant man until this happened to him.

“You like it, Daddy?” Liam asks, running over to squeeze him around his waist. “We didn’t want Santa to forget us.”

Dad gives him a sad smile and hugs him back tighter. “He won’t forget, son, don’t you worry.”

I wonder when they’re going to break the news to Liam. I suppose they’re waiting to see if the treatments work after all, but from what they’ve told me it sounds bad. He’s already stage three. All I do now is pray, day and night. Funny, because before this I was never the slightest bit religious.

I leave them to admire the tree together, and plop down onto my bed with an exhausted sigh. I pull my phone out to check once more if she’s said anything, but she hasn’t, and it still says my message hasn’t been delivered.

Yep, she blocked me. I don’t want to be angry at her, but I am. I know that I’ve fucked up in every imaginable way, but I thought at the very least she’d know I still cared about her safety. For fuck’s sake, was I supposed to pretend I didn’t notice she had a black eye?

My phone vibrates and my heart skips a beat, thinking it might possibly be her. But it’s not, it’s Amber.

Amber: Hey, have you talked to Oakley recently? I’m worried about her

I find it a bit weird how close they’ve gotten, considering how much of a bitch Amber was to her, but it also makes me happy. I’m glad Oakley has someone else looking out for her.

Oliver: She blocked me. But yeah, I’m worried too.

Amber: For some reason my messages to her aren’t sending. I’ll let you know if I hear from her though.

Huh, maybe her phone is just turned off then. I can only hope.

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