Poppy waits in front of the hospital with me. He is holding the string of a big red balloon that floats above his head. It says Get Well Soon. I think it’s meant for me but he’s forgotten to hand it over. Dad brings the car around and we both get in.
No one talks on the short drive back home. I look out the car window. Everything looks empty and still, like everyone has just packed up and gone home. There’s no music coming out of car windows or people talking too loudly on street corners or cars revving up in the distance. There’s nothing.
When we arrive at our apartment, Poppy gets out of the front and comes around to the back of the car and opens up the door for me. He’s still holding the balloon. ‘I forgot,’ he says. ‘This one’s for you.’ Dad is sitting in the driver’s seat not moving. Poppy smiles at me but you can tell it’s not a real smile. It’s too wide and he’s showing all his yellowing teeth, even the gap where he’s missing a tooth on his left side. He grabs the plastic bags of bears and posters and chocolates and things from the hospital that are sitting next to me. He gives me the balloon in return.
Upstairs, Dad unlocks the door and Poppy goes in first, walking down the hallway where Dom’s shoes are still lying on their side like they always are. Dad holds the door open for me and says ‘It’s good to have you back,’ in a voice that is softer than I’ve heard him use before. In the hallway, just near the front door there is a hole in the wall that I’ve never seen before. Dad sees me looking and his cheeks go red. He puts his banged-up hand in his pocket. I look at the hole again.
‘Coffee, I’ll make coffee.’ I hear Poppy say this from the kitchen right before I hear the sound of him opening the fridge and pulling back the tab on a can of beer.
Dad and I sit down on the couch and he puts his arm around me. Poppy brings in two cans of beer and a glass of lemonade for me. ‘Can’t be bothered with coffee today,’ he says sitting on the recliner. He looks tired, real tired, like he’s just been running marathons. I look at Dad sipping his beer beside me and he looks real tired too.
‘Where’s Mum?’
Poppy and Dad look at each other for a while until Poppy gets that weird fake smile again and says, ‘The doctor gave her something to help her sleep better. We’ll just let her sleep now and you can talk to her tomorrow.’
I sip at my lemonade and we all lie back into the couch. Poppy puts his feet up on the coffee table and rubs his belly. Dad rubs his eyes. The clock on the wall says it is four.