“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” I balanced my cell against my ear and shoulder while I unloaded my pockets and stepped out of my shoes. My keys, loose change, and wallet went in a tub on the conveyor belt.
“Sir, all electronics need to go through.” The TSA agent was a woman about my mom’s age.
“Mom, I’ll call you right back.” Before she could respond, I ended the call and tossed my phone in a circular bin that slowly moved toward the X-ray machine.
Casper’s airport was small, which was great for last-minute travel. It was less than ten minutes from my apartment with free parking, so other than stuffing jeans, a couple shirts, and other stuff into a bag, leaving Wyoming didn’t take much effort.
I wasn’t stupid enough to think that Ohio would fix my shattered heart, but it’d be a start.
Passing through TSA and getting to the gate took just over five minutes. Wyoming wasn’t for everyone, but it was for me. Aaron seemed to think I wanted to leave Wyoming and put it in my rearview, but I’d never leave. My dream job was to work at one of the state parks and call the outdoors my office. I was one semester away from that happening. Dr. Blaze’s whole spiel about focusing on the positive wasn’t for nothing.
I wasn’t looking forward to my next appointment with him, though. There was no way to spin that into something other than what it was. I was not ready to see Hope again.
Maybe she’ll quit.
Sure, and maybe pigs’ll fly.
The hurt was too fresh. No matter how many times I tried to think of what I could’ve done differently, there was a part of me that knew there was nothing.
I dropped my bag on a blue seat in the boarding area and called my mom.
“Sorry about that,” I said when she picked up.
“Is this a good time? Do you have a minute?”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Yeah, my plane doesn’t take off for another twenty minutes. What’s up?”
“Plane? Where are you?”
I laughed. “Uh, Casper, where I live. I’m at the airport.” I stood in front of the wall of glass and watched the planes on the tarmac. “I’m going to see Aaron, but don’t tell him. I want it to be a surprise. You know, like when he flew home to see you.”
“Oh, okay.”
The drop in her voice wasn’t what I expected.
“Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”
“No, it’s not that. I’m worried about your brother,” she said. “I spoke to him, and he’s not himself. And now he won’t answer my calls.”
“Mom, it’s the end of the semester. No one is themselves. He’s probably studying. It’s just the time of year.”
“No, that’s not it. I think Aaron is having a mental breakdown.”
“What?” I shook my head. “Mom, Aaron is the strongest person I know. He’s probably just stressed, that’s all. You know Aaron, he freaks if he doesn’t get a 4.0.”
“I don’t think that’s it. He talked about Trevor and how you had to have known about the voices, and then he mentioned someone named David. Does he have any friends named David?”
“Not that I know about.” A plane landed in the distance. I glanced at the clock. My flight would be boarding in less than twenty minutes. “Mom, what exactly did Aaron say?”
“He talked about Trevor and how you would’ve known he was back and that it’s hard not to know about the voices. That’s when he mentioned David and said you just know.”
“Know what?”
“The voices. That if you have them, you know.”
If I hadn’t called my mom, I would’ve thought this was some prank. What the fuck?
“Did he actually say that? Did he say he was hearing voices?”
“No, he didn’t come out and say it, but after….”
“It’s okay, Mom, I’m not going to break. Just say it. After me, you’re worried.”
“Branson, I’m really worried. I can’t fly out there until my oncologist gives me the go-ahead, but I don’t think I can wait.”
“Okay, well, I’m headed there now.”
“What if it’s too late?”
The last time I heard my mom this scared was when I was in the hospital.
“I called the university, and they put me in touch with the campus patrol, who promised they’d do a welfare check on him. But that was hours ago, and they haven’t called back. Branson”—her voice cracked—“what if he’s not okay?” She started crying, and my eyes welled.
“Mom, he’s going to be okay. It’s Aaron. He has to be okay.”
Her crying intensified. “I missed it. Branson, I missed it. He came home and needed me, and I wasn’t there for him. How did I miss this?”
“Mom, you’ve got to stop. We don’t know anything.” The door to the plane opened and a flight of stairs descended. “Listen, they’re going to start boarding the plane.”
“He broke up with his girlfriend and she’s pregnant,” she blurted out.
“Hannah? Hannah’s pregnant.”
A flight attendant appeared behind the kiosk and picked up the mic.
My mom began to talk, but I couldn’t hear her over the PA.
“Good afternoon. This is the preboarding announcement for flight 86 to Denver. We are now inviting those passengers with small children and any passengers requiring special assistance to begin boarding at this time.”
It was the middle of the week. There weren’t any children or elderly people flying to Denver.
“Regular boarding will begin in approximately five minutes. Thank you.”
“What’d you say?”
“I’m sorry,” she said in a voice that could only be described as resigned.
“Mom, it’s going to be okay, I promise. This is Aaron we’re talking about. He’s probably just feeling really down because of Hannah. Breakups suck.” I thought of my own, which suddenly seemed stupid.
Hannah’s pregnant? Fuck.
“Did Aaron say what they’re going to do?”
“She’s chosen not to have the baby” was all my mom would say on the topic.
“Oh.”
The flight attendant spoke again. “This is the boarding call for passengers booked on flight 86 to Denver.”
“Mom, I’ve got to get on the plane.”
“Be safe.”
I laughed. “Mom, it’s Aaron. The worst thing he could do to me is cook for me.”
That made her laugh. “I can’t think of a better time for you to be there for him. Please call me. As soon as you’re with your brother, call me. When I hear from my doctor, I’ll be there.”
“I’ve got this.”
“But I’m his mom.” Her voice broke again.
“Aaron knows that. He knows you’d be there if you could.”
“No, I will be there. I will be there for my son.”
“Mom, it’s going to be okay. But I’ve got to get on the plane.”
“I love you. Call me.” I knew if she could stay on the phone until I got to Cleveland, she would. There was nothing my mom wouldn’t do for her kids.
“I’ll call. Love you, Mom.”