The hours kept ticking by as I was tortured by my own thoughts. I was restless, twisting and turning, my bed sheet damp with nervous sweat. Just after three o’clock the hallway light flicked on and I heard Dad’s footsteps and the bathroom door closing. A few moments later my bedroom door opened and a yellow rectangle of light fell on the rug on the floor. Before Dad stuck his head in to check up on me, my eyes were firmly shut and I was breathing as calmly as I could.
I couldn’t begrudge him his worry, I knew that my recent behaviour must have seemed strange at the very least. So far he was watching me in silence. Would he say something if he figured out my current health situation? Or the upcoming end of the world?
Enough with the nonsense, I told myself while he went back to his room. I can’t trust Mark until I find out more!
First I should calm down so as not to reach a wrong conclusion out of sheer absentmindedness, then find out all the details, and only then decide whether or not it’s time to panic.
In the end I managed to fall asleep. Just before the metaphorical blinds went down, I had a thought: Mark was saying something about four weeks… What if that’s really all the time I have left? Not half a year, which until now I considered desperately short, but only a fragment of it?
No wonder I felt sick right after waking up. The occasional stabbing sensation in my chest was joined by vertigo and an intense throbbing in my temples.
“Aren’t you getting up a bit late?” Dad frowned when he saw me walking out of my bedroom. “Will you make it to work on time?”
I looked at the clock in the kitchen. “Shit,” I cursed quietly so that Ruby, playing in the living room, wouldn’t hear. I had just enough time to throw my uniform on, brush my teeth and comb my hair. “I was up late last night, must have slept through the alarm.” If I’d even set one?
“I didn’t want to wake you, I thought maybe you took a day off again,” he said apologetically and it was clear that it’s what he wanted me to do. All three of us had enjoyed that day by the river.
I knew my timetable for the next month by heart, but I still looked at the filled in calendar by the fridge. “I’m free tomorrow. I’ll take Ruby to the park, I can do it on my own if you want to relax.”
“I don’t need to relax, I relax all the time. How about we do something?”
“Sounds good,” I shouted from the bathroom where I was trying to complete my morning routine without falling over. My stomach twisted into knots.
“Are you going anywhere after work today, or coming straight home?” He sounded more worried than reproachful. That was exactly why I needed to find out what was going on, so that I could figure out what to do.
“I have some errands to run this afternoon and I’m not sure how long it’ll take. I’d like to be home for dinner but I can’t promise anything.” I ran through to my bedroom bent slightly forward, hoping Dad didn’t see. I took off my pyjamas and put on the uniform, which certainly didn’t look freshly ironed.
“I’ll make bramboráky,” Dad tempted me with savoury potato pancakes, my favourite Czech meal. “Without eggs of course.”
To me, being vegan didn’t feel like a whim, but I often wondered how others saw it. I was grateful for Dad’s flexibility, it didn’t even occur to him to complain about any of it. He’d just adjusted all the ingredients so that all of us could eat according to our own standards and preferences.
“You’re the best,” I praised his efforts to bring the family together for dinner. Until recently, it was understood that we eat and do all the evening routines, including games with Ruby and watching the evening news, together. I felt a pang of regret that he now thought he had to tempt me to join. Was he lonely? Ruby spent most of the day in kindy and I at work. Was he able to fill all those hours? It seemed silly to worry about a grown man, but a small voice in my head kept reminding me of Dad’s battle with PTSD, and that maybe this was his way of asking for help without having to come out and say: I’m not doing too good, and can’t bear to be alone, help me!
I was almost about to bring it up, but in the end I didn’t. After all, he never probed me about my problems, though I was clearly totally out of it. It seemed that respect for other people’s privacy ran in the family.
I felt terrible, saying a hasty goodbye and rushing from the house. I could feel Dad’s eyes on me and heard an echo of my daughter’s voice.
“Don’t go, Mummy. Stay here!”
I got into the car and drove to the station without thinking. Despite my efforts to get ready as quick as possible, I started my shift fifteen minutes late.
When I walked in, Emma gesticulated wildly as
