After a further ten minutes of sitting in silence, Roxy abruptly got up from the table, scraping her chair back and practically running from the room. She just couldn't take it anymore, it was as though the silence was pressing in on her mind, pressing and pressing until she was sure something would burst.
With shaking hands, she scrabbled for her phone, flipping it open and calling a familiar number. "Hello?" The voice on the other end answered almost as soon as the call connected. Roxy didn't say a word, not trusting herself to speak. "Roxy, darling?"
"Dad? . . . I'm scared."
Roxy looked across the kitchen table at her sister, an aghast expression on her face. She scoffed, shaking her head. "What d'you mean you can't? Don't tell me, in three months time you're gonna lose the power of speech, are yer?" The question was meant to come out sarcastic, joking even, but all Roxy could hear was how strangled her voice sounded.
"Roxy," Ronnie breathed, saying her name so softly a light breeze would blow away the sound.
"Stop saying my name and tell me what you mean!" Roxy exclaimed, her bottom lip trembling as she tried to hold it together.
"You know what I mean-"
"No! No, I don't. I . .don't!"
"Please, Rox . . ." Ronnie begged her, but in her selfishness, Roxy refused to listen to the pain and desperation in her sister's voice.
"No!" She stated, even as the tears began to course down her cheeks and a tightness developed across her chest. "You have to say it. I won't believe it unless you say it."
Ronnie nodded, understanding what her sister needed. If she didn't say the words out loud, they didn't have to be true. If they were just thoughts, then they weren't real. "Roxy, I have a brain tumour."
And then she was in Ronnie's arms, sobbing with wild abandonment into her sister's shoulder. Ronnie wrapped her baby sister in a tender embrace, holding her tightly as she felt an entire lifetime's worth of tears stream out of her. She could hear Roxy talking, but she couldn't understand the incoherent statements through her outpouring of grief.
"Please don't leave us, Ron. Please don't leave us," Roxy cried through her tears, bringing her tear stained face up from Ronnie's shoulder and looking at her sister. "Please."
"I'll try not to," Ronnie told her, her voice breathy and hoarse as she tried to speak through her gut wrenching agony.
"No, promise me. Promise me you'll be okay, Ron. Promise me that we'll pick our daughters up from school together and get drunk at their weddings. Promise me."
Ronnie just looked at her, not saying a word. She couldn't make those promises.
"Promise me!" Roxy demanded, her voice stronger this time, a hint of anger threading through it. But a second later, her face crumpled. "Promise me . . . please?"
"Dad – I'm really scared."