21. Isaac
Chapter 21
Isaac
Third Year of Fellowship
2 Years Ago, November
T he holiday break from my fellowship could not have come at a better time. I needed to get myself out of the city and back home to see Dad. When Mom left, he did everything he possibly could to make sure us boys had a loving, communicative home. We didn’t have much, but we did have each other.
“The prodigal son returns!” Dad greets me as I pull open the storm door to his small two-bedroom, ranch-style home.
I laugh and shake my head, pulling him into a tight one-armed hug. “It’s only been two weeks. And honestly, I’m only here because I heard there would be pie.”
A loud crash sounds from the kitchen and Bo flies across the floor towards us, his back legs losing traction along the way. Dad moved here, just thirty minutes south of MMCI’s campus, over two years ago, and this damn dog still cannot get used to the tile floor.
“Probably about time to trim those nails, kid.” Dad smiles down at Bo, leaning over to pat his head with his free hand. “He must’ve knocked over my crutch again. It always scares the ever-living shit out of him when it falls.”
I walk into the kitchen and find the reason for the crash, tears instantly spring to my eyes. “What the fuck?” I yell.
“Nice to see you too, brother.” Liam laughs, walking towards me with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I could’ve spent Thanksgiving with the Royal Family, and this is how you greet me?”
I wrap both my arms around him and let the tears fall. I don’t even care.
I pause, pull away, and grasp his shoulders. Eyeing him inquisitively, I ask, “What the hell do you mean, the Royal Family?”
A cleared throat behind me pulls me from Liam, and I spin around.
“Sam.” My voice comes out strained and small. “Why are you out of bed, bud?” He shrugs, casually walking into the kitchen and pulling open the refrigerator.
“What’s for dinner?” Sam bends forward, peering down at the nearly empty shelves. Though he’s twelve years younger, Sam stands a few inches taller than me. Both of us are shadowed by Liam’s height when he stands up straight.
A rare occurrence.
“Are you hungry?” Also a rare occurrence for Sam. Chemotherapy over the last few years has taken so much of the vibrance away from my brother.
They don’t warn you about the guilt that accompanies a cancer diagnosis. Continuing to live life while watching your loved one disintegrate before your eyes. Seeing Sam miss out on some of the most formative years of his life. Seeing Sam toe the line of life.
It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I didn’t even have to do anything.
“Yeah,” Sam responds, a tinge of attitude in his voice.
“Well, I didn’t have time to get groceries.” Dad grabs his other crutch from where it leans against the beige kitchen wall. “Maybe we can go grab something in town?”
My head whips to Liam, who meets my confused gaze with his own. “Town?” We both speak simultaneously.
“Sounds good to me.” Sam closes the fridge door, disappearing down the hallway towards his room. I can’t remember the last time we all went out to get dinner together. Hospital stays have taken up a large part of the last five years, and even when he was home, it was too big of a risk for Sam to be in such a crowded place.
I take a step towards Dad.
Liam does the same.
“Are we missing something?” Liam whispers, two decibels too loud.
“I can hear you,” Sam’s voice echoes down the corridor.
“Alright, I know he’s nineteen, but where’d this attitude come from?” Dad chuckles, pushing his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.
The four of us have been doing life together for the better part of the twenty-nine years I’ve been alive. Better and stronger after Mom left.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Sam reappears dressed in jeans and the MMCI crewneck sweatshirt I bought him when I started school.
“Alright boys, in the Tahoe.” We all pile into the SUV, Sam in the front seat. Dad passes his crutches, one by one, over into the passenger side to lean against the middle console.
We’re mostly silent during the drive to Campustown, humming along to songs on the radio. I look away from the window to scan the cabin, huffing out a laugh when I notice each of us nodding our heads in time with my favorite Led Zeppelin song from my favorite album.
Led Zeppelin IV , the first album I ever owned. And by album, I mean cassette tape.
“Alright, where to?” Dad turns onto Main Street, scanning the buildings for options.
“Golden Hour is always a good option,” Liam chimes in happily, side-eyeing me.
“Any objections?” Dad asks the group. “Isaac?”
I crack my neck in an attempt to stall. That place has Jo written all over it.
“Sounds good to me.” It comes out just a little too loud for the enclosed space. Sam rolls his eyes and somehow I hear it.
This kid.
“Going once. Going twice.” Dad pauses for dramatic effect. “Golden Hour it is.” It takes just a minute or two from our spot on Main Street to find parking. In my memory, this restaurant is filled with droves of students, drunk and loud. Today, it’s quiet. A hostess seats us quickly at a booth in the corner, tucked mostly away from the rest of the patrons. She drops four menus on the table, smiling brightly.
My chest tightens uncomfortably at the sight of a new menu. Lemon shrimp and orzo? Where’s my platter of fried cheese? My face must give away all of my secrets, because when I look up, all three of my favorite men are staring at me.
“You good, bro?” Liam asks, picking up his glass of water. When did those get here?
“Yeah, good. Just deciding,” I shoot back, trying to act natural.
Just act natural, Isaac.
A waitress approaches the table to take our order, and I take a chance on some new chicken dish. Dad, Liam, and Sam all have their typical favorites.
“So since we’re all together.” Dad starts, taking a moment to sip some of his water. My heart drops, imagining all the possible things that could come out of his mouth. “Sam, do you want to take this one?”
My eyes flick to Sam, who is slumped back in the booth, his arms tight across his chest.
“I mean, I guess,” he responds. “So, I had a doctor appointment last week.”
My heart sinks impossibly further. Don’t say it, Sam.
“And the cancer is gone, I guess. I’m good.”
He doesn’t sound happy. Why doesn’t he sound happy?
“What?!” I squeak. I guess I’m going through puberty again at nearly thirty. I glance between Liam, whose mouth is hanging open ready to catch a fly, and Dad, who is grinning wider than I’ve ever seen.
“It’s true,” Dad adds, accounting for Sam’s new-onset silence.
“Why don’t you sound happy?” I yell, unable to control the volume of my voice or the rhythm of my heart. I let myself feel the relief of a healthy Sam. An almost-adult that can enjoy the simplicity of life without the weight of cancer burying him in the ground.
Sam shrugs nonchalantly. The heaviness in my chest is replaced by a sense of floating. I’m halfway to the moon when Dad speaks up again.
“The doctors say it may take a while for Sam to come to terms with the news.” Dad’s smile fades just a touch. “It’s pretty hard to believe.”
Sam shifts on the fake leather cushion, dropping his elbows onto the table. “Yeah, I mean, I guess I’m good now. No more chemo, so that’s cool.” The corners of his mouth quirk up, and he fights the urge to smile. I wrap my arm around Liam’s shoulders, pulling him into my side.
“The final four, back together and better than ever,” I toast. For the first time in a long time, I let myself be happy. Happy for Sam. Happy for Dad. Happy for Liam.
Happy for me.
“Guess it’s time to get a job,” Dad adds with a laugh and a gentle pat on Sam’s shoulder.
Sam groans and stands, eyeing the three of us. “Fucking weirdos.”
“Watch your mouth,” Liam, Dad and I all say in unison, and we all burst into laughter.