“Did they tell you?” she asked soft and somber as she entered the room.
Sam gazed up at his young sister and raised his brow, the one with the scar straight through it. Hair didn’t grow there anymore. “Huh? Know what?” he responded with a sense of nonchalance.
“Oh my gosh!” the girl seemed shocked and quickly muffled her mouth with her petite hands. “I can’t believe it! I’ll let them tell you. Sorry,” she apologized, paused for a moment, and turned to walk out the door.
“Wait, wait! You can’t do that Mel. So not fair,”.
“I can’t. I’m sorry Sam,” she seemed stressed, “I thought they would have told you before me. They should have anyway,” she bowed her head and clasped the back of her neck. The silence between them was brief, but heavy.
Sam closed his eyes for a moment, they stung as his lids wet them. He searched his mind for the possibilities of what his sister and parents were keeping from him. Could it be Grandma? Were they going to make that move Dad always talked about? “Come on Mel!” he interrupted his own process. “Dude, just tell me. I’m going to find out anyway.”
Melanie walked to the center of the room and sat on the edge of the mirrored coffee table. She stared at her brother, tear drops formed at the base of her lashes, and fell to her knobby knees. She flicked her nails together and bit them in an attempt to work up her nerves. “M-m-mom an-n-n-d da-a-a-d,” she stuttered with a muffled voice. “Oh Sam! I can’t,” she grasped her brother’s collar and flung herself towards him, the tears pouring now.
Sam was bewildered. He loved his younger sister, but never felt a connection, not since he stopped playing in the tree house with her, until now at least. He let her cry until his white shirt become translucent. “It’s gonna be okay. You know that right?” he assured Melanie.
“How do you know?” she questioned in return, drama overpowering her voice. “How do you know things will be okay, when you don’t even know what is wrong, Sam?”
He didn’t know how to answer, but with his baby sister in hysterics, he had to. He sat her back down on the coffee table where her crying began to halt. “You know what dude? I really don’t know if everything will be okay. We will probably never figure it out. Is anything ever okay?” Melanie’s sobs were completely stifled now and only lingered with the faint sniffling every so often. She would understand the significance of these questions Sam posed much later in life. For now, however, she stared. At him, then into the distance, towards the ticking clock--until the second hand made a complete go.
Sam watched his sister intently, as if she had an unspoken tale to tell. She still held her parents secret, but did not tell it. Instead, she carefully stepped of the coffee table. “They will be home soon,” she noted as she walked towards the stairs.
“I know,” was all he could reply with. He picked up his book and thumbed mindlessly through the pages.
The sound of the garage door startled Sam, his thoughts seemed to fall from his mind. The car door slammed, his thoughts now in the pit of his stomach. Keys jingle and a few mumbled words are exchanged, the thoughts have finally crawled up and settled in his chest.
He takes a deep breath and rises with no hesitation as his parents enter the room.
