Page 105 of The Other Brother

Frank’s shaking his head violently, staring at the two of us. “No,” he repeats.

“Dad…” Cody begins. He swallows, glancing at me.

Frank’s glare is unrelenting as he pins Cody and me with it. “Whatever this is, it ends now. Your mum will need all the support she can get. You cannot do this to her.”

Cody flinches. “But Dad…”

“You are not doing this to your mum,” he says, standing up. “She needs us. She does not need this.” He gestures at me. “It ends now.”

He gives me a filthy glare as he stalks away, following where Mel disappeared down the hallway.

“Shit,” Cody says. He slumps down, looking so miserable.

I grab his hand and squeeze it. “Yeah,” I say. Because he’s pretty much summed up the situation.

Cody’s breathing hard, his chin trembling. He slowly withdraws his hand from mine. “You should probably go.”

I try to push down the hurt swelling inside me. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he says.

“No, you stay here.”

“No, I’m coming.”

Our footsteps make solemn sounds on the linoleum as we walk down the hallway.

The front entranceway of the hospital is busy. People in different colored scrubs bustle past. One guy comes in the electronic doors holding a bunch of bright yellow helium balloons. I follow the progress of the balloons bobbing down the hallway before I finally turn to Cody.

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice cracks, splintering.

“I get it,” I say. I try to ignore the tightness in my chest as I continue. “I guess we always knew this thing had an expiration date. I was just hoping it was something with a long-life expiry.”

Cody doesn’t even attempt a smile. He stares at me, his blue eyes pools of misery.

I have to look away.

Taking a deep breath, I force the next words out. “I just want to do whatever I can to help,” I say. “If that means staying away, I can do that.”

Emotions wrestle on his face. “Please,” he says finally.

And so I turn and walk away.

Chapter28

I send Cody a message that night.

hope your mum is doing ok. thinking of you all. let me know if there is anything I can do to help.

As the hours turn into a day, I give up checking my phone every few minutes for a reply.

Over the next week, I discover the one good thing about Cody and I sharing sisters—I can keep tabs on what’s happening with Heather via Mel and Kate.

Luckily, Heather’s stroke wasn’t too bad. Mel reports that her speech is slurred, and the left side of her face is droopy, and she’s struggling to walk properly. But because she was taken to the hospital so quickly, her chances of making a full recovery are high. She’s discharged from hospital after three days.

Apparently, Frank has employed home help to be with her during the day and drive her to appointments. Cody’s pulled out of his school’s next musical concert so he can be with her as much as possible.

My mum is in that awkward position of what to do when something bad happens to someone you don’t like very much. Her solution is to bake a casserole.