“This one?” she asked, holding her hand up to her hair. She could tell this was serious. This wasn't my usual rant about missing Jamie. This was life changing in a way that I couldn't understand. Maybe I didn't want to understand. I shoved all of my belongings into my suitcase rapidly, my breathing was shallow, my chest was tight, and I wished I could just run away from life. If only it were so easy. I was borderline hysterical and at my breaking point, one small poke, one thread pointed in the wrong direction and I would lose it.
“Vick, let me help you,” Riley said softly, picking up the pile of clothing thrown on my bed. She began to fold it nicely, which was strange for Ry, she was the messiest girl I know. Again, I wanted to laugh, but if I laughed I may have cried; my emotions were all messed up. Ry was also the warmest girl I know, always spreading her love and affection, but I couldn’t do that right then. I wanted to be numb. I stomped away from Riley and the confused look on her face didn’t go unnoticed.
I walked seven steps and locked myself in our small bathroom. Falling to the floor, I caught my head in my hands willing myself to hold on. The cream tiles were cool on my behind and I took a few deep breaths. I will not fall apart. I repeated the mantra. Mama’s voice broke into my mind, stand up, right now, you are tough, you are a Molino. I huffed, if only she were right. I stood back up squaring my shoulders as I looked in the mirror. Vicky Molino, you will not fall apart. I repeated the mantra as I opened my make-up case and took out my face powder. I began to apply make-up with my rattled hands. If I looked good I would feel better and it would conceal the pain inside. I applied black mascara to my already full lashes and slathered on hot pink lip gloss, puckering my lips together. They looked nice and full. I inhaled another long breath and exhaled as I swung open the bathroom door with a smile plastered across my face. Riley quickly lifted her head checking me out.
“Would you quit it?”
“What?” she feigned innocence.
“Stop trying to get inside my head. I can't do this today,” I asserted, zipping up my suitcase, which was now nicely packed. I didn’t mean to be a bitch, especially not to Riley, but I was losing control and I needed to hold it together somehow. The truth was I might never be able to will the words out of me, so I hoped she doesn't persist. She remained silent, but I could tell by her creased forehead that her intuitive skills were hard at work.
With everything packed I turned around and allowed my eyes to take in every corner of my dorm room. All the memories it held, all the firsts, the lasts, all the happiness and tears that those walls had witnessed. Mostly, I was scared. Dropping out of engineering school wasn't something to take lightly, not when it's been a childhood dream, but I had no choice. Ry came up to me, throwing her arms around my neck in true Riley fashion; this girl is all heart. I knew if I told her what was going on, she would be by my side every step of the way. But I was not strong enough. The doctors warned that the next few months were going to be emotionally disabling. What does that even mean? I couldn't fathom. The bad parts hadn't even begun and I was shutting down. As I headed to my old Tracker in the parking lot, I not only felt like a chapter of my life was ending, but I felt like my whole life was ending. As I drove down the black paved roads, I couldn't help but remember the look on Mama’s face when I came home on Friday for Thanksgiving. From the moment I walked through the door something was off, very off.
She persisted with our usual turkey dinner and Nono was over as usual. Dad looked solemn, wearing his feelings on his sleeve. I nodded my head thinking…I should have known at dinner. Nono was picking at the turkey and he usually shovels it in. My mom's turkey is one of the best around. She uses a secret marinade that everyone raves about in our little town. Then Joe, my older brother, came through the door and everyone's eyes brightened. My mama and papa never had the opportunity to go to university and Joe and I were living their dreams. I was in engineering school and Joe was almost finished with his undergrad degree in kinesiology.
The weekend went by despite the heavy air permeating throughout the house. By the time Monday morning rolled around, I couldn't take it anymore. My papa was completely withdrawn into his own world. I think he may have spoken a total of three words since I arrived home. Which was very unlike him. He usually asked Joe and me endless questions about our classes, wanting to learn as much as he could from us. And Mama, just thinking about her makes me tear up. The way she was watching us: those sparkling emerald eyes scribing our every movement as if it would be her last. I smack my steering wheel hard. Life is not fucking fair. Why her? She's the closest thing there is to an angel.
My eyes began to tear making my drive very blurry. Don't cry, Vick, don't cry, you have to be strong for her. I tried to suck the tears back and used the sleeve of my jacket to wipe away the excess. Looking in the rearview mirror, I realized that I looked like a mess with my black mascara running down my cheeks. Mama’s soft words were on constant replay in my mind ‘I have a brain tumor, Vick, I'm dying, the doctors are giving me three months.'
How does that happen? One minute your life was going smooth, the next a rug has been pulled out from under you and you find yourself on your ass. Only in my case I hadn't fallen. I was treading right now, trying to keep strong, understanding that my Mama had a fierce battle to face; one that she wouldn't win, one that would ravage her until there was nothing left. I couldn't fathom it. My mind had a guard up that wouldn't let me break it. I finally pulled up to the driveway and my tires clunked along the potholes that needed fixing. I walked around the Tracker to open the door and pulled out my luggage.
“Wait a minute, Vick.” Joe came trudging out the front door.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked with my eyes narrowed on him. I didn’t mean to be a bitch, but he was supposed to head back to school yesterday and him being here meant that it was just as hard for him to leave, and maybe he was contemplating dropping out which would break Mama’s heart. It may be her last days with us, but I wanted to make them as happy and as easy as possible for her.
“I couldn't leave, I'm staying to take care of her,” he said, as he ran his fingers nervously through his dark hair. His eyes looked red and swollen. As big and strong as he was, he’d always been sensitive.
“The hell you’re staying here. You know how important school is to her, you don’t want to disappoint her, not now. She needs to know that you’re going to finish school, this is your last year,” I said, pointing a finger a little too close to his face. I suddenly realized how close my finger was, and I looked at Joe then at my finger and pulled it away. He was standing in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest looking at me knowingly. I left school, I dropped out and she was going to freak out, but someone needed to take care of her and it should be me, not Joe. I was just starting third year but I was given a deferral, I could always go back.
“Don’t look at me like that Joe, I asked for a deferral and the Dean granted it. You’re finished in six months, you will have a degree in your hand, you know how happy that would make her,” I said insistently. We are siblings, but I got Mama’s small frame and emerald eyes and Joe’s a carbon copy of Papa, tall, strong and built. He pulled me in to him and squeezed me too tight, giving me a kiss on the head. I could feel his pain, it’s shared, but I pulled away, I couldn’t do this, not when Mama could walk out of the house at any minute and see us.
“Joe, let’s go in and honestly, I’m expecting you to leave tonight,” I insisted, as I pulled two large garbage bags out of the back seat of the Tracker. Joe nodded and picked up the two suitcases in his burly arms. He was nodding his head; he knows that the Molino women are stubborn when we set our mind to something. That’s what made this whole situation difficult, Mama was a stubborn woman, a fighter, she always had been, and having her face a battle she couldn’t win, just doesn’t seem right. We entered the house and Mama was standing in the doorway. Her eyes looked sad and longing. Joe dropped my luggage instantly and wrapped her up in a bear hug. Mama buried her head in his strong shoulder and I came around the back wrapping my arms around her too. The three of us stayed like that for a long time. I could have stayed like that forever, not wanting to let her go, not wanting to face the reality that was going to rip into our lives.