Messy, messy

After all Alexander has told me about his father, I definitely didn’t expect to meet him at eleven thirty at night with him staring at his son and I in bed. Actually, I never really expected to meet him at all. Alexander made him sound like he pretty much never came around, except possibly every four months, if that. So when his bedroom door opened and revealed a middle-aged man in khakis and a button-up shirt looking at us awkwardly, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that I was surprised.

“Alexander Gustav Haus! Was im namen von allen heiligen dingen weitergeht??” the older man exclaimed. I knew a little bit of German, so I knew the basics of what he said, and with a bit of common sense, I deduced that he asked something like ‘what in the name of all things holy is going on?’

“Dad!” he gasped, sitting up instantly, a horrible blush flooding his face. “Was machen sie hier?” he asked in hushed German.

“What am I doing here? What are two girls doing here? Why is there one in my bed and one in yours?” he asked, his voice raising more with every word.

“I’ll explain in a second, but first of all can you be a little quieter?”

“Why should I be quiet? I want to know what is going on in my home when I’m not here!”

“Because Macy’s here, and she’s sleeping!” Alexander whisper-yelled.

“Well why is Macy here? It’s not your weekend to have her, is it?” he asked; the volume of his voice lowering.

“It’s not like you’d know,” he muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re never around anymore,”

“I’ve told you; I’m away on business,”

“Well if I were you, I’d quit your job. It’s making it impossible for you to see your family,”

“Stellen sie auf ein hemd junge,” he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. I caught something about a shirt and ‘boy’ and figured he probably wanted Alexander to put his shirt back on. When I looked over at Alexander, I saw that his blush had disappeared and was replaced with a scowl. I leaned over the edge of the bed, where I knew I threw his shirt, and picked it up, handing it to him as I sat back up straight. He grabbed it from me and slid it back on, his facial expression lightening at the small gesture.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“No problem,” I smiled, kind of awkwardly.

“Can you answer my question now?”

“What question?”

“Why are there two girls here?”

“This is Faith, my girlfriend, and the girl in your bed is her sister, Hope. The three of us and Macy went to the movies earlier tonight and then had a bonfire of sorts in the back yard. The girls didn’t want to drive home at such a late time, so they’re staying the night. I didn’t expect you to be coming home, so I told Hope she could sleep in your room. I was just going to, and let the girls take my room, but she insisted that Faith and I take my room, so I told her to take yours so she wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch,”

“Faith and Hope? Are those really your names?” his dad asked, getting a bit of a smirk.

“Yes, they really are,” I responded in an un-amused tone. “And I don’t quite see what’s so funny.”

“Sorry, it’s just that your names are a bit cliché, if you think about it,”

“So I'm going to guess that you also find it funny that our brother’s name was Chance; am I right?”

“Faith, Hope and Chance? I'm sorry to say, but I do find that funny. Why on earth would your parents name you all such names?” he asked, apparently not catching the ‘was’ in my last sentence. I could see Alexander out of the corner of my eye giving his dad a dirty look, and I was trying not to do the same. He knew the story of our names, but his dad didn’t, so I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Both of my parents suffered from cancer,” I started, watching as the elder man’s face dropped suddenly. “They knew there was a possibility that their children could get cancer too, but they had Hope. After she was born, nothing seemed wrong and their Faith prevailed through their next child. Then they decided to take a Chance with one more child. A little while later, our dad got really sick, and then Chance started getting sick. Our dad died and about a year later, so did Chance. A while after that, our mom passed. In between all this, Hope and I found out we both have cancer. We’ve been by ourselves since our mom died, until now. Now I have Alexander too. And maybe even Macy. So thank you very much for basically insulting my family. It’s nice to meet you too.”

I was on the verge of tears as I snapped that last bit out, biting my lip to stop myself from crying. I felt Alexander’s arms go around me and I immediately relaxed a bit.

“Shh, Faith, it’s okay,” he whispered, caressing my hair and laying a soft kiss on my forehead as I leaned it on his shoulder. I sniffled a little and tried to get my emotions under control, not wanting to cry in front of a man I’d just met. My eyes were closed while I took several deep breaths to calm myself, so I didn’t see Alexander’s dad move, but I felt the bed shift as extra weight was added by him sitting down.

“I'm so sorry, Faith,” he said, sounding sincere. “I would have never known that by just looking at you. You seem so happy and sure of yourself; like nothing in the world could hurt you. I really am sorry.”

“Dad, please,” Alexander said, looking over his shoulder at his father, basically asking him to leave the room.

“Alright, son, I'll be in the living room if you need me,” he said, standing up and walking out through the hall.

“Thank you,” I sniffled, lifting up my head and looking him in the eyes.

“You don’t even have to,” he whispered, taking my head in his hands, lightly rubbing my cheek with his thumb. “He’s usually a pretty cool guy, when he’s even around. But he can be quite inconsiderate at times, and I'm sorry for that.”

“It’s not your fault that your dad is sometimes an ass,” I chuckled, sniffling one last time. He laughed at that and pulled me in so he could kiss my forehead again. It was a sweet moment. That is, until his face contorted and he had to lean away from me to let out a racking cough. “Oh, God, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I'm – “

He couldn’t get anything else out, because he started coughing furiously, clenching his belly, probably out of pain and doubled over. It seemed as if his lungs were trying to wrench themselves out of his body. The coughs would have been just like those of a nasty cold, except for the fact that he soon started coughing up blood. As soon as I saw the flecks of crimson clashing against the soft white of the carpet, I knew he had to go to the hospital. I cursed under my breath and jumped off the bed, helping Alexander up by the undersides of his arms. Luckily, he understood what I was doing and went along with me, so I didn’t have to explain myself as I held onto him and walked him out through the hall to the front door. His dad looked up from the newspaper he was reading while sitting on the couch and immediately dropped it.

“O mein gott,” he muttered in German, his true colors starting to show as his face fell. Even though I don’t know German all that well, I know that he said ‘oh my god’. “Was ist los?”

“I'm sorry, what?”

“What happened?” he repeated.

“Well, obviously he’s coughing up blood,” I spat. Slipping on my shoes really fast and opening the front door. “I'm taking him to the hospital. Come if you want, but if you do, get up Hope and Macy first and explain what the hell’s going on here.”