Message in a Bottle

Chapter Twelve
I woke up to the smell of cinnamon in the air. I jumped out of bed, walking to the stair railing outside my room. “Benjamin? Are you cooking something?” I called.
“Morgan, come down for breakfast,” mom called from the kitchen.
I rolled my eyes, walking into the bathroom to comb down my hair and brush my teeth.
“What’s all this?” I asked, when I entered the kitchen.
“Cinnamon and chocolate pancakes, blueberry muffins, eggs and bacon, and an organic berry smoothie,” mom said grandly. I stared at her confused. She had on an apron that I didn’t know we owned and a yellow spring dress with flowers. Her hair was curled perfectly and bounced down to her waist. She looked like one of the Stepford Wife’s.
“I know, I see that but why?” I asked suspiciously.
“It’s my way of saying sorry to you and Ben. I know I said that I’d be around more and that I’d be a better mom and I may have slipped at times but this time, no more slipping. My focus will be on you and Ben and only you and Ben.”
“And Kyle,” I mumbled under my breath, not loud enough for her to hear.
“Please forgive me,” she begged.
“You really think that one morning of a home-cooked breakfast can win us over the six years of fending for ourselves? That we’d forgive you with some cinnamon and chocolate pancakes?!” I yelled, enraged.
“Morgan, honey I-”
“No. Don’t call me honey. No. You aren’t sorry. No. Ben and I won’t eat breakfast with you. No. We won’t talk it out. No. We. Don’t. Love. You.”

“Hey, how’re you feeling?” I asked, knocking on Ben’s open bedroom door after I changed into my school clothes.
“Oh, I’m fine,” Ben said casually, obviously a lie since his face was a bit pale, his eyelids purple.
“Ben, you don’t look fine.” I raised my hand to pound my fist on the red button but he wrapped his hand around my wrist, this time with much more strength.
“Please don’t,” he whispered. “Morgan, I’m fine. Really.”
“Benjamin, I know you aren’t. You know you aren’t.”
Ben sighed, letting go of my hand. “You need to stop fighting fate,” he whispered.
I hesitated, looking down at him then at the red button then back at him. I sighed in defeat, bringing my arm down to my side and sitting beside him.
“You need to accept the fact that… I’m not going to be around for much longer.”
“Ben, stop talking like that,” I snapped. “You’ll be fine. A miracle will happen. I promise.”
“Don’t make a promise that isn’t in your control to keep, Morgan because in the end things won’t turn out like you’d like them to and you’ll hate yourself for not keeping your promise.
“Morgan, you shouldn’t skip the first year of college, you need to stop using up all your money to buy me the healthiest and organic food you can find, you need to stop spending your days with me instead of your friends, you need to stop fighting with the nurses and doctors, and you need to stop fighting fate. You’re a tough girl but you can’t always win. You can’t always have it your way. Sometimes… you just need to accept losing.
“I see what Carter is doing for you. You’re opening up to him because you’re finally willing to take a risk, you’re finally letting yourself become the vulnerable girl I used to know and there’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes we need to take a risk, we need to jump and not worry about someone catching us. We all need to fall to learn from our mistakes but never forget to get back up and try again.
“What I’m trying to say is that you need to face destiny. Face the fact that nothing can help me anymore and face the fact that Carter may be the right guy for you, your prince charming.”
I smiled and wiped a tear from my cheek. “You’ve never spoken to me like that before,” I whispered. “Whenever we talked it was always like you-”
“Like I hated you?”
I nodded my head softly.
“Morgan, I can never hate you. Not even when you thought the lighthouse was a castle. I was just… irritated,” he chuckled. “You’re my little sister. I can never hate you.” He nudged me and smiled.
I leaned down and gave him a hug, making sure not to make it too tight but tight enough to let him know that I appreciate him and care about him and love him.
“You better get to school. You’re going to be late,” he said, patting my back.
I let go of him, wiping another tear. “I’ll see you when I get home, okay?”
He nodded his head.
I stopped by in the kitchen where the cold breakfast still sat on the table. Mom was no where to be found as usual. I grabbed a granola bar from the pantry and hopped into my car and headed for school.