A chuckle escaped me, light and short-lived, but needed. Lainey always knew how to lighten my load, even if it was for a second.
“Thanks, Lainey.”
“Always, babe! You know I love that boy like he’s mine.” She crossed her arms, her voice growing more serious. “But for real, Jo, you can’t keep running yourself into the ground like this. Two jobs, school,andtaking care of Kyrin while Vanessa’s out here living her best life? Friend, you’re gonna break before the bills do.”
Vanessa… our“so not dependable” mama.
That lady was the type to post Bible quotes on Sunday morning, then disappear by night with a new man and a different wig. She was good at birthing us, not so much raising us. Meanwhile, I was the one sitting at hospitals, holding Kyrin’s hand through another round of blood work, studying between night shifts, and watching his chest rise and fall every night, terrified that one day it might not. From changing feeding tubesto memorizing medication schedules, it wasalwaysme. I kept trying to make excuses for her, hoping maybe one day she’d show up and be the mama Kyrin truly needed.
I straightened up, looking at Lainey intently. “Then so be it. Lainey, I’mnotletting him go without; I don’t carewhatit takes. I’ll work doubles, sleep three hours a night, hell, eat noodles for weeks. As long as he has what he needs, I’m okay without going with mine. Besides, he’s already missed out on so much. He can’t play sports, can’t overexert, can’t evenget excitedwithout his heart rhythm skipping. I see it in his face when other kids run, laugh, and wrestle. And I see it in his eyes when he acts like it doesn’t bother him.” I blinked away tears. “But it bothersme.It kills me every damn day.”
I didn’t always feel present. Some days blurred, but I never lost sight of what mattered. I refused to let my brother fall through the cracks.
Lainey didn’t push it. She knew me too well to argue, but that didn’t stop the ache in her stare.
“I’m going to get Kyrin,” I said, pushing myself up from the couch, my limbs tired but my love for that little boy always stronger than my exhaustion.
When I opened the door, a soft hush wrapped around me. Kyrin was sprawled out on the bed under a navy fleece blanket, mouth slightly open, and his wild curls stretched out over the pillow. The video game controller was still clutched in one hand, like he’d fallen asleep mid-battle.
My brother looked so normal… so peaceful… sohealthy. Most days, he was so full of life that it scared me. No one would’ve guessed that the same little boy lying there had a heart condition that doctors said he might not outgrow without a transplant, that his energy came in borrowed doses, that sometimes his laughter was followed by gasps, or that his playtime ended with a quiet cry he didn’t want me to hear.
I bent down slowly and kissed the top of his head, my lips lingering there longer than they needed to.
Kyrin stirred, wiggling under the blanket, then peeked one eye open. “Jo?” he asked, voice groggy and raspy from sleep.
“Yeah, sport. It’s me.” I smiled through the lump in my throat. “Time to go.”
He blinked harder this time, then slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Mmm... okay,” he mumbled, then tossed the blanket back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
“You were knocked out, huh?” I teased, nudging him gently.
He grinned. “I was winning, though.”
I laughed lightly and ruffled his curls. “Of course you were.”
I handed him his shoes, watching as he tugged them on with slow, lazy movements. His little fingers struggled with the tongue of his sneaker for a second before he got it just right.
I could’ve helped. It would’ve taken me two seconds, but I didn’t. I never tried to take his independence from him and hehatedwhen I did. Kyrin said it made him feel like a baby. So most of the time, I let him do his thang,unlesshe asked me, or Iknewhe needed my assistance. Even though he was moving slowly, I stayed right there, pretending not to notice the way he paused to catch his breath after each motion. My heart broke a little every time, but I never let it show—at least not in front of him.
After he finally got his shoes and coat on, I grabbed his bookbag from the corner and set it beside him.
“You good?” I asked quietly, giving him room to tell me if he wasn’t.
He nodded, yawning again. “Yeah, I’m cool.”
Kyrin slung his backpack over one shoulder, then remembered the game was still on. He carefully pressed the power button on the console, and it clicked off.
“Ready,” he said, then reached for my hand like I was his anchor… and maybe I was.
And I’d hold on for as long as I had to… forever, if I could.
“We’re about to head home, boo,” I announced to Lainey as I reentered the living room.
Lainey hastily jumped up from the couch. “Oh—hold up! I gotta get your plate!”
Lainey dashed off into the kitchen, and Kyrin and I exchanged a look, both of us smirking. Seconds later, she returned with a plastic grocery bag knotted at the top, like it was sealed for transport across state lines.