"Hi, it's Cassie. Please leave a message, I can't be reached right now. Thanks!"
"Cassie," I say, " please call me back. This is the fifth time I've gotten your voicemail. I need to speak with you. It's an. Beep. That's the end of your message. Would you like to leave another?"
I hang up the phone before the voicemail even has a chance to beep again. I slam the phone down, wondering why she won't, maybe can't, take my calls. In my heart and my gut, I know that she doesn't want to answer my calls, but the part of my brain that's in denial says that maybe she just can't answer my calls right now. I sigh again as I try once more to reach her, hoping against hope that this will be the time that she answers the phone. There's so much that I need to tell her, want to tell her, that I just need her to answer her phone. Alas, it just goes to voicemail again, and I leave another message.
"Cassie," I start, "please call me. Mom's dying, Dad is on his way there if he doesn't get some rest soon, my husband of 12 years just left me, I had a miscarriage, and lost my other two kids in the divorce. I really need someone to lean on right now, but if that person isn't you, I totally get it. I know you and dad aren't in the best place right now, but if you could please come home? Please. I need you." I sob a few times into the phone, and then hang up.
I know that my dad will probably hate me for the voicemail I just left. I know that Cassie will probably hate me for interrupting her at university, but I just don't care anymore. I need my family to be by my mom's side. It's her dying wish for the family to be together when she goes. I find myself wondering why my mom would want people fighting at her bedside, but I realized that, for my mom, it wasn't about the conflict, it was about the people. I found myself shedding a few more tears as I realize that my mom is really the only person that ever cared about me, and now she's going to be gone. With this thought in my mind, I try to call my brother, but of course the answering machine is the only response that I get. Still, I leave a tear-filled message, knowing he's much more likely to call back, no matter what's gone down in the past. Sure enough, my brother Dean calls back within 15 minutes, and I can imagine his face as he listened to my message, probably with a small frown on his face and concern in his eyes.
As soon as I pick up, he says, "Hey baby girl."
"Hi"
"What's wrong? What's going on?"
"Mom has cancer, and Dad needs someone to convince him to take care of himself before he dies too. I can't face losing him too."
My voice breaks, and my face crumbles as I dissolve into tears for probably the third time that hour.
I can hear Dean shushing me over the phone, reassuring me that he'll be on his way as soon as he can, that I can cry on his shoulder if I have to. And with that, with regret and remorse in his voice, he says that he needs to get back to work. But, instead of being distraught, I find myself completely understanding, as I've always been with my brother. We say our goodbyes, and I try to have a nap, so that I can face seeing my mom later.
A few hours later, my phone rings again, and my heart leaps a little as I realize that it's Cassie calling. However, all I hear is that she "can't get away right now." "Finals are coming up, and I can't miss them." "I'm so sorry Fran." Anger comes over me as I realize that my sister is as selfish as she ever was.
A few minutes later, I hear a knock at the door. As I get closer to the door, I realize that I wasn't expecting visitors, which means I grab the knife that I keep hidden in the drawer by the door before I answer. Luckily, the person on the other side is Dean, but he's with a strange man that I've never seen before. However, since my brother is gay, I assume that he has brought his boyfriend with him for support. However, to my surprise, Dean tells me that Jimmy is his husband. After my surprise wears off, I realize that Jimmy must be a supermodel, because he's HOT. I realize I'm drooling, but I can't seem to stop myself. Jimmy is also very much my brothers type. My brother always goes for the male model types.
As I come out of my day dream, I see Dean looking at me with concern. He asks me if I'm alright, and I realize that I'm sitting on my living room floor. I try to pick myself up, but my arms are too weak, and I just end up tumbling onto the floor again. I start to breakdown again, and in the back of my mind, I know that I shouldn't be crying this much, but I just can't help it. I can hear Dean in the back of my mind, but I pass out on the floor all the same.
As I come out of unconsciousness, I realize that I am most definitely not at home in my comfy pillow top bed. The door opens, and I look over, only to see my dad coming through the door. All of a sudden, I realize that I'm in the hospital. I really don't know how I know, but I think it's a gut feeling. I see that my dad is pretty upset, but I can only guess the reason why. He sits on the edge of my bed, still looking at me.
Finally, he says, "Hey baby girl. How are you feeling? Better?" I must have looked confused, because he was quick to continue, "I just mean that you passed out. You had me worried sick." I must have still looked confused, because he sighed and closed his eyes. Then he continued, "You passed out, and Dean brought you to the hospital. They tried to bring you around with smelling salts, the whole works. When that didn't work, they ran some tests and found out you were dehydrated. So, they hooked you up to some kind of fluid, and they said you would come around in the next hour or so." Her dad's face had grown longer throughout the whole tale, so what could she do but start to cry and apologize over and over again? Her dad sat on the edge of her bed and gathered her in his arms, comforting her to the best of his ability, "Hush, babygirl," he crooned, "Save your strength." Eventually, she calmed down enough to hear what he was saying and stopped her tears. Just then, Dean and his supermodel fiancé came into the room, both looking extremely concerned. Fran guessed that Jimmy was more concerned about Dean than about her, but it was still nice to think about a completely hot stranger being concerned about her. Dean came and sat on the other side of the bed, looking at her with concerned eyes. Fran knew what he was about to ask before he even opened his mouth, so she said, "I'm alright, Dean." Dean let out a huge breath of relief, and then smiled at her. "Thank god," he said. Fran nodded her head. Her eyes started to flutter, and before she knew it she was asleep again.