I tuned out while they discussed business. I didn’t care about my da’s job, or him in general, so sitting and listening about his day was not at the top of my to-do list. However, to keep face, I had to endure it. No matter how sickly mad it made me.
“Alannah.” I looked up when my name was called.
I swallowed the bite of food in my mouth.
“Huh?”
“I asked how your interview went last week,” Da said. “Ye’know, the person you wanted to hire to run your graphic business online, so you could focus on the designs you needed to create.”
I stared at my da for a moment, surprised he remembered my interview, or that he took an interest in my work at all. I considered telling him to fuck off, but that would only cause problems.
“I had to reschedule,” I said, looking at my plate as I scooped more food onto my fork. “It’s takin’ place tomorrow instead.”
I practically shovelled my food into my mouth, hoping that would deter either of my parents from asking me any more questions. Luckily, chatter for the remaining thirty minutes of dinner was between my parents, and I only had to give one-word answers when they threw a question my way. Afterward, I put all the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen, then I joined my parents in the sitting room. From the second I entered the room, I felt like something was off.
I paused by the doorway.
“Come in, hon.” Ma smiled, though I could see it was strained. “Sit.”
She gestured for me to sit on the settee that faced them, so with a raised brow, I did as she asked.
“Is everythin’ okay?”
My parents shared a look, and instantly, I knew the answer to my question was no.
“Ma?” I prompted. “What’s wrong?”
She looked at me. Her eyes were now filled with tears, and it caused my stomach to churn.
“Oh, God,” I whispered. “Is it Nanny? Granda? Brogan?”
“No, no,” Ma quickly said, wiping her eyes. “Everyone is okay. Nanny, Granda, and Brogan are perfectly fine.”
Brogan was my cousin, and she was only six years old. She had lived with my grandparents since her parents, my auntie and uncle, passed away in a house fire when she was only a few months old. They lived in County Offaly, so we only saw them occasionally, but I was relieved to hear they were all okay.
“Then what’s wrong?” I pressed. “And don’t tell me nothin’. I can see it in your eyes, Ma.”
My da grabbed my ma’s hand when she broke down, and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach.
“Oh God,” I said to myself, gripping the settee cushion just so I had something to hold onto.
Whatever it was my parents had to tell me, it was bad.
“I’m sorry,” Ma whimpered. “I don’t want to be a blubberin’ eejit. I promised meself I wouldn’t cry.”
“Hey.” Da frowned at her. “You’re nothin’ of the sort; you can’t help your emotions.”
I stared at them and just about exploded.
“Tell me what is goin’ on!” I demanded. “Right now.”
Ma sniffled. “We need to tell you somethin’, but please, don’t be scared.”
I looked from my ma to my da and back again.
Is this about his affair? Does she know? Are they about to tell me about it?
“Before we tell you anythin’,” Ma said with as stern as an expression as she could muster, “I want you to sit and listen until we’re finished talkin’. I don’t want you to worry.”
I was beyond worried.
“Tell me,” I almost choked out. “Please.”
Ma’s lower lip wobbled, and after a pregnant pause, she said, “I’m sick.”
My heart stopped.
“Sick?”
She nodded and sniffled, fresh tears splashing onto her cheeks.
“How sick?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “How sick are you, Ma?”
“I haven’t been feelin’ very well these past few weeks, so I went to my GP about it, and he advised me to go to the hospital to have some tests done after he found somethin’ durin’ an examination.”
What’d he find?
I placed my hand over my mouth and stared at my ma with what I knew was terror in my eyes. My stomach twisted in knots, and I began to tremble.
“You’re okay, though, right?” I asked, my voice cracking. “It’s nothin’ serious?”
She looked at my da, and her tears continued to fall as he pulled her tightly against him and wrapped his arms around her.
“Da!” I almost growled his name. “Tell me.”
He locked his eyes on me, and I saw sorrow dwelling within them.
“Cancer,” he rasped. “Ma has breast cancer.”
The air was knocked from my lungs the second he spoke the words. Loud noise filled my ears, a pain took root in my chest, and a disgusting sensation of nausea hit me like a tonne of bricks.
“No,” I whimpered. “No, she doesn’t.”
My ma broke away from my da and came over to me when I broke down. We wrapped our arms around each other and just held on for dear life as we cried. My ma was swaying me, trying to calm me down, when I should have been the one comforting her and assuring her that everything would be okay. The crying made her feel uneasy, so she excused herself to the bathroom to gather her bearings and clean herself up.