Read Online Everything Happens Today by Jesse Browner - Free Book Online

to her mother, even when she was half incoherent from painkillers for her bedsores or had soiled the bed, and read to her or watch “Gossip Girl” together, or just lie by her side and suck her thumb. She treated her mother the way a lonely child treats her favorite doll, skilled at convincing herself that she was an equal partner in the conversation, that she could lift her own cup, that she could hear and respond to her worries and concerns. What would Nora do when all that was gone? What were the chances that their father would man-up and step in? Wes wanted to believe that he himself could make up some of the shortfall, at least until Nora was old enough to take responsibility for her own emotional welfare, but he knew that he would be at best a woefully inadequate substitute. And then what would happen? Would Nora just drift away? Would she start taking drugs, flunking school, sleeping around? Would she shut down, become remote and joyless and unreachable, or would she take all her wit and sparkle and use them as shields—the funny girl who always has a clever putdown for everything and a joke for every occasion, even the most intimate—so that Wes would have to stand by and watch that beautiful smile of hers stretch and twist itself into a hideous mask?
    But even worse than lying around worrying about how everything would collapse after his mother’s death were the moments when Wes caught himself speculating about the ways in which life would become better, easier, less encumbered. Wes always squelched these thoughts the moment he found himself entertaining them, and was left with the nauseating stench of self-loathing, but it would be too late. The images conjured up in these fantasies remained, colorful and alive, to taunt him whenever he least expected it. It was the smallest inconveniences, rather than the cosmic implications, that he imagined he would be most grateful to be rid of. No more rice pudding in the refrigerator, no more spoon feedings, no more having to watch her try to feed herself, barely able to grip the spoon as it rode trembling to her dry lips and missed, so that she would then have to scrape the food off her cheeks or chin into a mouth sucking and gaping like a sea worm. No more late-night wake-up calls, no more adult diapers, no more waiting at the bathroom door having to listen to her grunts and whimpers. No more having to roll her over and wipe the shit smears off her lower back with a wet washcloth. No more rushing home on the weekends with that sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that one of her vital supplies had run out during the day. No more sitting at her side dutifully telling her about his day when she was hardly aware of his presence, when he knew full well she was a thousand miles away. No more sneaking past her bedroom like a thief whenever he needed a moment to himself, and no more fretting, every time he took a moment for himself, that he was being selfish and inconsiderate. No more being embarrassed to bring friends home after school, and no more feeling ashamed and worthless for being embarrassed. No more hating himself for resenting her. No more being angry all the time, no more taking it out on Nora. No more feeling like a shallow, egocentric brute every time, despite all his efforts not to, he slipped into little dreams of freedom. No more pretending, to himself and to Nora, that she wasn’t going to die, and that it wouldn’t be a relief to everyone concerned, herself included, when she did. No More.
    Wes crept from the room and closed the door with infi­nite care.
    From the landing, Wes could hear the iPhone calling to him. He went into his room and was somehow surprised to find it just as he had left it, waiting like a faithful dog in its nest of dirty clothes. He threw himself down on the bed, intending to ignore it, but it was insistent and would not rest until he acknowledged its call. He rolled over and retrieved it from the floor. A