Shestood at the end of the bed in her pajamas—a loose-fitting Walk the Moont-shirt and black shorts that only just peeked out from underneath the shirt’shem. Her eyes seemed to linger on me, as her fingers gripped and twisted thebottoms of her shorts. Was she trying to stretch them, to hide more of her legsfrom me? Had she caught me looking at her? To play it safe, I dropped my gazeto study my elbow, my wrists, my hands. Anything but her.
“Um,I was justcomin’ in here to grab Bernard. I can’tsleep without him.”
“Oh,my God,” I uttered in shock as I turned to grab the bear. “Thisis Bernard? He looks so fuckin’ different.”
“Well,it’s been like, twenty years since you’ve seen him.” She laughed lightly andwalked around the bed to sit at the edge, right beside me.
“Ithasn’t beenthatlong.”
“Okay,maybe not exactlytwentyyears, but it’s been a pretty long time.”
Iturned Bernard’s aged face toward me. He was missing an eye, and the otherlooked clouded with a fictional cataract. He no longer had his stitched-inmouth, and his brown fur was worn away in spots. The sight of the old bearbrought on a sadness that made my chest feel tight, and I realized that, in myhand, I held the proof of time. I could still remember when this stupid bearlooked nearly brand new. A little loved, but still fuzzy and clean. Now, he wasold, broken-in, and worn-through.
Likeme.
“Damn,Bernard,” I muttered to the bear. “It’s goodseein’you again.”
“Oh,shut up,” Molly laughed, snatching him away. “You used to make fun of me forsleepin’ with a stuffed animal, remember?”
Itipped my head. “I don’t remembermakin’ fun of youfor anything.” But I remembered not defending her when other people did, andthat old guilt bit down hard.
“Well,you did,” she insisted and hugged the bear to her chest. “When we were like,nine, you told me itwasn’tcoolto sleep with him.” Her eyes metmine and glinted with playful taunt.
Rollingmy eyes, I chuckled. “I apologize for nine-year-old me. He was a dick.”
Mollyshrugged one shoulder. “Not really. Just that one time. And I might’ve made funof you for yourDragon Ball Zpajamas, so I think Ikindadeserved it.”
Iscoffed. “Damn. I forgot I had those pajamas. How the hell do you rememberthat?”
Sheshrugged, lowering her gaze to the bear in her lap. “Idunno.Guess Ikindafilled my memory with the good stuffinstead of, you know …”
Theserious turn left me watching herstudiously, andgauging what my reaction should be. There was so much I didn’t know. She’dalways kept herself so guarded when it came to her childhood and the memoriesshe suffered alone. Ever since her father walked out on her and her mama whenMolly was little and shacked up with his girlfriend in Austin. When we wereyounger, she’d always just brushed it off—the comments, the memories—and I hadfollowed suit, not wanting to push her. But I did remember sometimes, there’dbe a hint of emotion. Of something bubbling up to the surface, begging her toreact, to feel, to do something other than shut down.
Likenow.
So,I decided to make a joke and try to bring her smile back. “My ugly-ass animepajamas were one of the good things?”
Thatwas when her eyes lifted back to mine, revealing something within that damnnear made me swallow my own tongue. “It wasn’t your stupid pajamas, Chad; itwasyou. You were always the absolutebest thing in my life. I could get through my dad leaving, because I had you.Then, I didn’t have you around for a long time, but somehow, I got you back.And now …” Her eyes watered and my brow furrowed.
“Hey.Molls, where the hell is thiscomin’ from?”
“You’rejust sosick,” she whispered, hervoice barely audible. One tear slipped over her cheek, and she hastily wiped itaway.
“Molly,I’m—”
“Donotsay you’re fine. I’m so sick ofhearin’you say you’re fine.” She shook her head and clutched the bear to her chest.“You’rescared. I saw it in your eyestonight.”
Runninga hand up the back of my head, I sighed, unable to look her in the eye. “Comeon, Molls—"
“Fine,”she cut me off. “If you won’t say it, then I will.I’mscared, Chad. I’m scared for you, and I’m scaredthinkin’ that whatever’sgoin’ onisgonnatake you away from me when I’ve only justgot you back.”
Startled,I lifted my head and stared wide-eyed at her. “You really think—”
“Idon’t know what to think! I don’t know what’sgoin’on, but you don’t either. What Idoknow is, you’re so thin. You can hardlyeatand yourun fevers on and off. Your body isfightin’somethin’, and I know it’s getting worse.It’s already worse than it was a month ago when we first started the tour, andI don’t think you should wait any longer to see someone. I really don’t.”
Myhand wiped over my mouth, and I shook my head. “Molly, I can’t just take timein the middle of the damn tour to see a doctor.”
“Andwhy not?” She held Bernard tighter to her chest and another tear slid down hercheek, to meet the top of the bear’s head. It reminded me so much of that girlI used to know. Before I could respond, she added, “You’re no good to them ifyou’re too sick to play.”
