Dialogue
By Claire Roberts

aaaaOne: Hello?
aaaaTwo: Hi Mom. It's Caroline. Were you asleep?
aaaaOne: No, I was just lying here thinking about Aaron.
aaaaTwo: Me too.
aaaaOne: So you got Lisa's email?
aaaaTwo: Yeah, I just read it. Have you talked to her since they took him to the hospital?
aaaaOne: I called, but there was no answer.
aaaaTwo: She's probably still there. She said they were going to keep him overnight and then meet with the oncologist in the morning.
aaaaOne: I know. I wonder what he'll say. Do you think the cancer has spread? Lisa was worried it had spread to his brain.
aaaaTwo: I know. I hope not. That would mean it's in his entire body. Well, I guess his spleen and colon are still cancer-free.
aaaaOne: Don't forget the kidneys, and his stomach. Oh, and his intestines. Plenty of organs left to infect.
aaaaTwo: Right. But aside from all those, it's everywhere. How do you even treat cancer in the brain?
aaaaOne: I don't know. Radiation I guess. Maybe more chemo therapy. Not that that's done much good so far. It's barely keeping the rest of the cancer at bay. Just slowing its growth a little, seems like.
aaaaTwo: Are you going to go there? Do they want you to come help with the kids?
aaaaOne: Lisa said they're doing OK, they don't need help right now. One of the neighbors is taking care of the kids today, and Lisa thinks they'll be home from the hospital by the time the kids get home from school tomorrow. I told her I could come the day after tomorrow if they need me to-there's a direct flight-but she said they have it all under control. You know how they are about accepting help from other people. They'd rather run themselves into the ground than let someone do something to help.
aaaaTwo: Yeah, I know. I wish they weren't so stubborn. They don't seem to realize that we're all just as anxious as they are that we need to help, to do something, so we don't feel so helpless. Even if we just did their laundry, or picked up Aaron's prescriptions or something. At least then we wouldn't be sitting around checking our email every 20 minutes, hoping for an update.
aaaaOne: I know, it's frustrating. What time is it there?
aaaaTwo: Almost six.
aaaaOne: Why are you up so early? I thought you didn't have to be to work until nine.
aaaaTwo: I don't, but the metro workers are all on strike again, so I'm going to walk to work. These Frenchies. I don't know how anything gets done in this country. One group or another is always on strike. Even the homeless people went on-strike a few months ago. Said they wanted more money for being homeless. Ridiculous. Anyway, it's not like I was sleeping. I keep having dreams that I rush to the hospital and find out Aaron has just died and I wasn't able to talk to him before he died and tell him all the things I wanted to say.
aaaaOne: Oh honey, that's awful! No wonder you woke up early!
aaaaTwo: The stupid thing is, I was there for two weeks in August and I didn't say anything. We didn't have one meaningful conversation the whole time I was there. I didn't get to know him better, I didn't find out what was on his mind, what he thinks about while he's lying in bed all day, what he's afraid of if he does die…. We could have talked about memories of our childhood, how he felt when you and Dad got divorced-tons of things. We didn't talk about any of it. Maybe that's why I can't sleep well at night anymore, because I know I had my chance to talk to him and I didn't. I know we've never been close, but I ought to at least be able to ask him about his memories of our childhood Christmases.
aaaaOne: I know, it's awkward. There never seems to be a good moment to bring things up. I'm the same way. We didn't talk about much when I was there this summer either.
aaaaTwo: So what do you wish you had said to him?
aaaaOne: Oh, I don't know. Some of the things you were saying, about what he remembers from growing up. Like, what does he remember about our family, about high school and his friends in the neighborhood, what were the good family vacations, what has he done the same with his own kids and what has he done differently. Mostly things that would put my mind at ease that I was a good mother, I guess.
aaaaTwo: Of course you were a good mother, Mom. Well all turned out OK, didn't we?
aaaaOne: Well, yes, luckily you did.
aaaaTwo: You could have been better about letting us eat sugary cereal and having friends sleep over though.
aaaaOne: I let you eat sugary cereal! I bought you Apple Jacks a few times, remember? And what about all those Tricks and Lucky Charms?
aaaaTwo: Well, OK, I guess that's true. But the Lucky Charms weren't the real Lucky Charms; they were the generic brand that you'd put in those big Tupperware things. I was always embarrassed that we had generic cereal and not the real thing. Hey Mom, when I was visiting Aaron and Lisa, Aaron and I did have one brief conversation about when we were growing up, and he said we were always dirt poor. Is that true? I know we didn't have a lot of money-and I do remember that time when Dad didn't get paid for several months and we didn't have money for groceries and I gave you some of my babysitting money to buy bread-but I didn't think we were dirt poor. I mean, we didn't live in the trailer park or anything.
aaaaOne: No, we weren't dirt poor, but we were pretty darn close a few times. There were several times-periods of months, even years-when we lived off of our food storage, and people would leave boxes of food on our porch-remember that?-and most of your clothes were hand-me-downs from the Wallace girls. You guys all qualified for free school lunch most of the time too. People from church used to give us money-anonymously of course. I don't know how we would have survived if it hadn't been for those donations, especially in those years when your dad was freelancing and we didn't have a steady income. I'm glad you didn't notice how little money we had. I was always worried you would be embarrassed because we didn't have things other kids in the neighborhood had.
aaaaTwo: Well, I was embarrassed sometimes, but it didn't seem like we were that poor. There were kids at school that were certainly worse off; one girl in my class always smelled bad because she never had clean clothes and her hair was never combed, and there was that family from church, the Davies, in that little house with all those kids, that we used to do Secret Santa for every year, remember?
aaaaOne: Oh yes, I remember them. We weren't nearly as badly off as they were, but it was definitely tight for many years. I'm glad you kids haven't had to scrimp and save like I did after I got married. You are all much better off financially than I was at your age.
aaaaTwo: Yes, well, you gave us a good start, and I think we've all gotten lucky too. Any one of us could have needed you to bail us out in the last few years if things hadn't worked out just right. Even now, if Aaron and Lisa didn't have such good insurance, they'd be completely broke. I think they're barely making ends meet as it is.
aaaaOne: I know, I worry about that a lot. Aaron isn't getting paid anymore, obviously, and Lisa doesn't make as much as he did, though she has the better insurance. I think they're doing OK, but I don't know what they're going to do if Aaron's treatment lasts for another five months, or if they have to go out-of-state for the experimental treatment they were talking about. Their insurance is good, but it doesn't cover everything. Even ten-dollar co-pays add up when you're taking eight different drugs a day, plus chemo, plus hospital visits, plus MRIs and CT scans and all the other tests he's had to do. Cancer is a horrible, horrible disease.
aaaaTwo: Yes, it is. Mom, I'd better go. It's almost seven. If I leave a few minutes early, I can stop by a church and light a candle for Aaron on my way to work.
aaaaOne: Ok, Honey. Thanks for calling. Have a good day.
aaaaTwo: I will, thanks. Get some sleep.
aaaaOne: Goodnight.
aaaaTwo: Bye.