He shook his head, then he put his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants. He was too old to come into bed with me because he was scared of something. Father would have ripped Fabi’s head off if he’d found him with tears on his face in my room. Weakness wasn’t something Father tolerated in his son, or anyone really.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” I scooted to the side. “I can’t sleep anyway.”
“You’ve got only girl movies,” he said as if I was asking a huge favor of him but he headed toward my DVD shelf and picked something. Then he sat down beside me with his back against my headboard. The movie started and we watched in silence for a long time.
“Do you think Mom is going to die?” Fabi asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on the screen.
“No,” I said with all the conviction I didn’t feel.
***My eighteenth birthday was today, but there would be no party. Mother was too sick. There was no room in our house for celebrations or happiness. Father was hardly home anymore, always gone on business, and recently Fabi had started to accompany him. And so I was left alone with Mother. Of course there was a nurse and our maid, but they weren’t family. Mother didn’t want them around and so I was the one sitting at her bed after school, reading to her, trying to pretend that her room didn’t smell of death and hopelessness. Aria and Gianna had called in the morning to wish me a happy birthday. I knew they’d wanted to visit, but Father had forbidden it. Not even for my birthday he could be nice.
I put the book down that I’d read to Mother. She was asleep. The noise of her respiratory aid, a click and rattling, filled the room. I stood, needing to walk around a bit. My legs and back were stiff from sitting all day.
I walked toward the window and peered out. Life was happening everywhere around me. My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me from my thoughts. I took it out and found an unknown number on my screen. I pressed it against my ear. “Hello?” I whispered as I walked out into the corridor as not to disturb my mother, even though noises hardly woke her anymore.
“Hello Liliana.”
I froze. “Romero?” I couldn’t believe he’d called me, and then a horrible idea struck me, and the only explanation for his call. “God, did something happen to my sisters?”
“No, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” His voice was smooth and warm and deep, and it soothed me like honey did with a sore throat.
“Oh,” I said. I braced myself against the wall as my pulse slowed again. “Thank you. Did my sister tell you it was my birthday?” I smiled lightly. I could imagine Aria doing that, hoping to cheer me up. She hadn’t talked to me about it but I was fairly sure she knew that I still liked Romero after all this time.
“She didn’t have to. I know your birthday.”
I didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say. He remembered my birthday?
“Do you have birthday plans?”
“No. I’ll stay at home and take care of my mother,” I said tiredly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept through the night. If Mother didn’t wake me because she threw up or was in pain, then I lay awake staring into nothingness.
Romero was silent on the other end, then in an even gentler voice he said. “Things will get better. I know things look hopeless right now but they won’t always be like this.”
“You’ve seen a lot of death in your life. How can you stand it?”
“It’s different if it’s someone you care for who’s dying, or if it’s business-related.” He had to be careful what he said on the phone, so I regretted having brought it up, but hearing his voice felt too good. “My Father died when I was fourteen. We weren’t as close as I’d wanted us to be but his death was the only one that really got me so far.”
“Mother and I aren’t as close as many of my friends are with their mothers, and now that she’s dying I regret it.”
“There’s still time. Maybe more than you think.”
I wanted him to be right but deep down I knew it was only a matter of weeks before Mother would lose her battle. “Thanks, Romero,” I said softly. I wanted to see his face, wanted to smell his comforting scent.
“Do something that’ll make you happy today, even it’s only something small.”
“This is making me happy,” I admitted.
“That’s good,” he said. Silence followed.
“I need to go now.” Suddenly my admittance embarrassed me. When would I stop putting myself out there? I wasn’t someone who was good at hiding her emotions and I hated it.
“Goodbye,” Romero said.
I ended the call without another word, then stared at my phone for a long time. Was I reading too much into Romero’s call? Maybe he wanted to be polite and call the sister of his boss’s wife on her eighteenth birthday to gain some bonus points. But Romero didn’t seem to be the type for that. Then why had he called? Had it something to do with the way he’d looked at me at our Christmas party? Was he starting to like me as much as I liked him?***
Two weeks after my birthday, Mother’s health deteriorated even further. Her skin was papery and cold, her eyes glazed from the painkillers. My grip on her was loose, scared of hurting her. She looked so breakable. Deep down I knew it wouldn’t be much longer. I wanted to believe a miracle would happen, but I wasn’t a small kid anymore. I knew better. Sometimes I wished I were still that naïve girl I used to be.
“Aria?” Mother said in a wispy voice.
I jerked up in my chair and leaned closer. “No, it’s me Liliana.”