“Dammit.” I pull the thorn out of the tip of my finger and suck the drop of blood off. This is why I don’t visit people who are sick. You can’t arrive empty handed when a person is sick, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna bake a casserole, so here I am, snipping roses off the bushes under my front window so I can take them to the lady across the street.

She just started another round of chemo, and it seems to be hitting her harder than it has in the past. When she was first diagnosed with breast cancer three years ago, she walked a little slower and kept a scarf over her thinning hair, but she was as active and feisty as she when I was a kid.

But this time is different.

This time, I’ve only seen her leave the house to go to the hospital, and every step she takes seems to hurt. It’s sad how great a toll the cancer has taken on her body in just a few years. Especially since the only person around to help her is her loser son who seems to cause her more drama than anything else.

I’m only a year older than Joseph, but we were never friends in school. He was a jock, and I was more studious, spending time in the library instead of on the football field. Her younger son, Nathan, was a quiet kid who rarely played outside. I didn’t know him before he moved away, but I wasn’t surprised when he disappeared. I could only guess the reasons why he left home before finishing high school. I wouldn’t have wanted to live with that piece of shit brother either.

The sound of a car door slamming gets my attention, and when I look up, I see the asshole tearing out of his mother’s driveway and racing down the street like his balls are on fire. Thank god there aren’t any kids on this street.

As soon as I have enough flowers to constitute a decent bouquet, I wrap them all in a wet paper towel and cross the street. I’m not here because I’m such a caring person or anything. I’m here because my old man had a thing for Mrs. Greenly, and when she was sick the first time, he brought her flowers every few days. So now that he’s gone, I feel some kind of responsibility to maintain the tradition.

After I knock, I feel a little guilty for bothering her. She might be sleeping or unable to come to the door. I’m just about to turn around and head home when I hear her calling from inside that she’s coming.

I try the knob and it’s unlocked, so I crack the door just an inch. “Mrs. Greenly, it’s Dodge from across the street. I’m just dropping off some flowers.”

“Oh, how sweet.” She’s at the top of the stairs and slowly working her way down when I peek my head inside. “Come in, come in.”

“Don’t come down, Mrs. Greenly.” I step inside the entryway and close the door behind me. “If you tell me where I can find a vase, I’ll just put these in some water and leave them on the table.”

She hesitates on the third step and then finally nods her head. “Yes, that would be wonderful. There are a few different vases in the dining room hutch. Just use whichever one you like.”

“You go rest.” I turn toward the dining room and take a few steps before realizing she’s still standing on the stairs. “Is there anything I can bring you from down here? Something to drink or eat?”

Mrs. Greenly gives me a sad smile. “You look so much like your father.”

“I know.” I lost my dad a year ago, and it still hurts to think about him.

“Would you mind bringing me a glass of water when you’re done?” She slowly turns and takes a step up on the stairs. “And bring the flowers with you.”

After grabbing a crystal vase from the hutch and a glass from the kitchen, I fill them both with water and take a look around. The state of the kitchen pisses me off. I’ve only been in her house a few times in my life, mostly with Dad for some plumbing or painting project or another, but the place has always been spotless. Mrs. Greenly started her own cleaning service and worked long hours almost every day. She also worked late nights as a waitress until she got sick the first time.

Dad said she was worried about taking care of her boys, so she socked away every penny she earned to make sure they’d always have what they needed. Unfortunately, what they needed more than their mom’s money in the bank was a mother at home. And when she got sick again last month, she stopped working altogether because she needed a more aggressive treatment this time.

That’s when Joseph started coming around.

I’m not sure if he actually gives a shit about his mom’s health and well-being, but he has taken her to the doctor a few times. At least that’s where I assume they’re going when he screeches to a halt in front of her house and honks until she shuffles out the door. Every time I see him treat her like that, I want to kick his ass. He has no idea how lucky he is to still have a mom. Mine died when I was young, and even now, I’d give anything to have just an hour or two with her.

Which is why seeing what he’s done to her kitchen is infuriating. There are empty beer cans and takeout containers on the counters, and the sink is full of dirty dishes. Obviously, he’s coming around more than I realized, which has me both surprised and concerned.

At the top of the stairs, I’m not sure where to go. “Mrs. Greenly,” I call out. “I have your water.”

“Bring it in, dear.”

Her voice is soft, but it’s easy to distinguish where it’s coming from in the silent house. Her bedroom is on the right side of the small hallway. Standing in the doorway, I do a quick inspection of her room while waiting for her to invite me in. The queen size bed is neatly made, and Mrs. Greenly is curled up in a recliner by the window that overlooks the backyard.

“Come in, Dodge. Have a seat.”

After placing the vase on a doily on the dresser, I drag the wooden chair on the other side of the room closer to her recliner then have a seat.

I didn’t intend to stay and chat. But she seems so lonely, I just can’t leave her yet. “I hope the smell from the roses isn’t too overpowering.”

“Nonsense.” She looks lovingly at the bouquet. “They’re beautiful. Your father would be proud of you for coming.”

I merely nod. Dad had a heart attack while driving home from work. He died instantly before weaving onto the shoulder, so I never got to say goodbye. Neither did Mrs. Greenly.

“So, Joseph has been helping you out?” I give her a side glance, hoping I haven’t overstepped any boundaries by bringing him up.

Mrs. Greenly sighs heavily. “He’s trying. He’s just so busy that it’s hard for him to get over here. But he’s taking me to my appointments when he can and stopping by to have dinner with me.”

Yeah, I’m sure he is busy being an asshole on the streets downtown. He’s a parking enforcement officer and seems to revel in writing parking tickets. I’ve seen him stand next to a meter that still had a few minutes left on it, leaning against it with a cigarette in his hand, just waiting until it hit zero so he could write a ticket.

I’ve never understood why he was such a dick to everybody, and I never cared. But it pisses me off that he can barely make time for his mother even though he might be about to lose her.

“Well, if you ever need a ride or something from the store, you just let me know.” I pull out my wallet and find a business card for her. “You can call my cell phone anytime if you need anything.”

Mrs. Greenly reaches a frail arm out to me, and I take her hand.

“You’re such a good boy, Dodge. Your father did right by you. I hope you know how lucky you were to have him in your life.”

I nod and clear my throat. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I only wish my boys had a father like yours. Things could have been so different for them.” She coughs and suddenly looks exhausted.

“Maybe you should get some rest. I can come by later tonight or tomorrow to check on you.”

“Thank you, Dodge.” She closes her eyes and shifts her meager weight in the chair. “That would be nice.”