Not Afraid to Die

"I'll be back tomorrow, bright and early. I'm sorry I can't stay for the rest of the day."

"It's okay," Lolita said, "You need to go practice your oboe."

"Right, my oboe."

Rian still didn't know what an oboe was.

"I can't believe you're going along with that," Dante shook his head.

"You're just mad because I was right," Lolita stated.

"Of course, love."

"I have to get going. I'll see you both later," Rian cut in before the two could start their normal sibling banter.

"Hug," Lolita chirped, perching on her knees and stretching out her arms.

Chuckling, Rian wrapped his arms around Lolita's shoulders. She returned the gesture, her arms sliding around his middle, pressing her face against his chest. His scent surrounded her. She didn't know what it was, but she liked it. It was comforting, especially in the hospital.

Rian pulled away, leaving Lolita feeling almost empty, and shared a hug with Dante. She didn't want him to leave. She never liked when he left. And he was leaving so early today. All because of practice. She couldn't expect him to blow off practice because of her. There was no way she could expect him to do that.

She just didn't want him to leave her.

"Bye, guys," Rian said, turning and walking out of the room.

"Bye," Lolita called after him.

When she was sure he was gone, she fell back on the bed and sighed, fiddling with her new necklace. She already missed him. What had passed between them earlier surely wasn't helping her situation. He had been so nice about everything. And he actually wanted to be with her despite her HIV. She didn't understand why he would be willing to put himself through that kind of pain. It wasn't something she would question, though. Rian was old enough to make his own decisions.

Dante watched her from behind his thick rimmed glasses, trying to decipher her actions. The necklace around her neck was from Rian, he knew that. Rian had asked him if Lolita would like it before buying it.

It was a necklace with a rubber duck shaped pendant. Of course she would like it.

He also knew that Rian was supposed to ask her on a date. There had been no indication since he returned from his date as to how it went. They were cuddling on her hospital bed while she spouted some story to Rian. But they separated when Dante returned. Not like they got caught. No, they were quite casual on their separation. He wasn't sure if that was a sign or not, and he had nothing to compare the action to. She hadn't dated anyone before.

"So, do I need to approve a visit to the bowling alley?"

Asking was the best way to find out.

Lolita turned her head to face her sibling, eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" she asked.

"Are you going on a date with Rian?"

She stared at him for a moment, searching in her mind for a reason for his question. A light bulb went off in her head.

Oh, right, Rian asked her on a date.

These mental lapses were getting a little bad. She knew that had to be related to her illness. They had nothing to do with her natural A.D.D.-like state. Maybe she would talk to Doctor Cart when she came back to check on her.

That wouldn't be till tomorrow.

"No, I'm not."

"Did he ask you?"

"Yes."

"And you said 'no?'"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She still hadn't talked to Dante about that yet. Rian knew. Arpeggio knew. He didn’t know, and he was one of the people who deserved to know, the other being their father.

But Lolita was afraid it would make her father feel guilty when her fear of commitment truly wasn't his fault. It was her own.

"Because."

"Do you not like him?"

"It's not that. I do like him. A lot."

"Then, what is it? If it's me, I'm all for you dating him. I think it'd be nice for the two of you."

Lolita shook her head. "I can't date him."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't do the same thing to him that mom did to daddy."

"What are you," he trailed off, his mouth making an O-shape. "Lolita—"

"I can't, Dante."

"You can't keep yourself from dating just because you're afraid you're going to die on your significant other. Since when do you let death govern what you do anyway?"

"I've never wanted to die on someone."

"So this is why you won't go on a date with Rian? Because you're scared to die while you're with someone?"

"Why shouldn't I be? You were there when mom died. You know how daddy was. You know how he's changed more than I would, and I know he was never the way he is now."

"He hasn't changed at all, love."

"He talks to a picture frame at night, and you're trying to tell me he hasn't changed?"

"He does that because he and mom used to tell each other about how their days went before bed. Before you born, he was a stay-at-home dad. At night, he would tell mom about what I did, what he did, occasionally what the neighbor did. He wasn't going to give that up when she died."

"But, wasn't he hurt when she died?"

"Of course. He loved her. He'll always love her. But he spent every moment he could with her before she died. When she was diagnoses with HIV, he made sure he wouldn't regret not saying something or doing something. I think the time that mom was alive with HIV was the time I saw their love the most physically. They were always hugging and kissing and just being near each other. He was sad when she died, but he knew it was going to happen and he made sure his time with her was the best it could be."

"Do you think he's still sad?"

"I think he misses her and I don't think he'll ever stop. I'm sure he gets sad from time to time. How could he not? But she died without leaving any 'what ifs' in their relationship and unresolved issues. It was when she got HIV that dad admitted to wanting to be an author, that he admitted he asked a friend to help him pay for all the bouquets he sent her, that he loved the way she wiggled her feet while she read. Mom getting HIV made their relationship stronger."

"Right before taking her away from him."

"You're being too negative about this."

"I'm being realistic. This is the one time in my entire life I've decided to be realistic about something, and you're not supporting me. You even agreed to make me a superhero outfit when I decided I would figure out the secrets of flight."

"You were six when you decided to do that. I didn't want to stifle your creativity."

"I broke my arm when I tried to fly off our bunk beds. You should have told me I can't fly, instead of letting me free fall to the floor."

"I don't recall being in the room when you did that."

"You weren't even home. You were at school."

"So, how am I responsible for you jumping off the bunk beds and breaking your arm?"

"Because you didn't warn me."

"I didn't think I needed to warn you. I thought you'd figure out you didn't have the ability to fly."

"Well, you know what, Dante, I'm not going to allow myself freefall to the floor this time because I'm not going to try to fly off a bunk bed."

Dante sat back in his chair, mouth tight, eyebrows drawn together. That was possibly the most pessimistic thing he had ever heard her say.

"Love, allowing yourself to be in a relationship is nothing like freefalling off a bed and breaking your arm."

"It is when you have HIV."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Tell that to mom and dad. Don't you think mom's death was like a freefall for dad? Like he was falling off a cliff, hurtling to the horror of losing to the love of his life."

"The thing is, love, neither of them would have let HIV stand in the way of them being together. If you're going to learn anything from mom and dad's relationship, you should learn that love can grow regardless of illness or death, and HIV can never be a factor in deciding whether or not you can be with someone. Because, if mom and dad let HIV affect them like you are now, they would have gotten a divorce, which would have hurt dad a hell of a lot more. Don't do this to yourself."

That may have been just what Lolita needed to hear.