Flame
***
The lift doors opened, and I took a breath before I stepped out.
"She's not going to understand, Mum," Bhask said for the 99th time.
I shifted Yash to the other hip and ignored him, walking automatically to Alex's room. Long term care. I had spent more time here than I cared to think about. Yashie had spent months downstairs when she was born. What a family. And now Alex.
We got to the door of his room and Ayasha squirmed to be put down.
"Mum," Bhask said warningly.
"What do you want me to tell her?" I said, frustrated beyond civil ignorance, "I can't just leave her at home anymore. She'll think he's abandoned her. She wants to see him."
"But she won't-"
But I held his arm and we watched her drag a chair over to his bed, climb onto it and then onto the bed, settling herself by Alex's side, sitting up with her legs folded, twisting her fingers into eensy weensy spiders and humming softly. Bhask shook his head and marched over to her, but I stood still, my heart aching because I recognized what she was doing. I had seen her do this so many times at home, when Alex came back from an overseas trip exhausted and went straight to bed to sleep off the journey.
"Yashie, no-" Bhask started, but Ayasha put her finger to her lips.
"Sh Bhask!" she whispered, "Daddy's sleeping!" and Bhask stood helplessly by as she went back to her quiet games, content.
She was going to sit by her Daddy, her quiet, comatose Daddy, and she was going to wait for him to wake up. I gave Bhask a small, sad, smile of defeat. Weren't we doing exactly the same: sitting with him and waiting for him to wake? What else could we do?