Polaroid Cancer

“Casey, darling, can you please make a cup of tea for your father and me?” Casey’s mother says as she makes her way over to Niall’s crib, staring down curiously at him. Her eyes flick briefly over to Tom and back to Niall; she does this about two more times before turning around to face everyone. “This your baby?”

“No,” Casey mutters while setting up the teapot. Tom quickly comes to her aid and rummages around in the cupboards for a box of teabags. There was no way he wanted to be cornered and questioned, so making himself look busy kept him slightly out of the line of fire.

“So, you haven’t had any grandchildren for me, yet? Casey, what have you been doing all of this time? You should be married by now! I married your father when I was eighteen. I’m pretty sure you could have found someone by now.” Her mother scolds, “I hope it isn’t anyone dreadful when you do.”

Casey bites her lip, tears burn in her eyes but she swallows the hard lump in her throat and continues staring fixedly at the teapot. Her fists clench and unclench in silent aggravation; suddenly the engagement ring on her left hand feels so heavy, and noticeable that Casey wants to punch her mother in the face with it.

“Hello? Are you going to answer me?”

“Heather, I really think you should lay off of her a little…”

“Fuck off, Brian. She’s my daughter, I’ll talk to her how I want.”

“No, she’s our daughter.” He retorts, clambering to his feet. His face is contorted in fury, both eyes like burning sapphires. “I don’t know if you have noticed, but she seems to have a ring on her ring-finger.”

Heather is taken aback by this and her eyes begin to search frantically for her daughter’s hand. Casey sticks her hand in the air toward her mother and waves that one finger at her. Taking a step forward, mouth slack, Heather glances over at Tom.

“No, mother, he’s not my fiancé. He’s my fiancé’s brother.” Casey sighs, “Tom Sykes meet my mother, Heather Wolton and my father, Brian Wolton. My fiancé, well, he’s out on tour right now and Tom is helping me take care of Caleb’s baby. His wife died recently, you know…”

Again, surprise flits into her mother’s eyes. “No one told me they had a baby. All I knew was that Jayde had passed away. Word of mouth from Caleb’s mother.”

Casey grits her teeth together, “Is that why you’re here? For her… her f-funeral?”

Tom can tell she is fighting every fiber in her body to keep from breaking down in a mess of tears. He really wishes he could hold her hand at the moment, just so Casey knew that she wasn’t alone. Suddenly, Tom feels a flood of resentment toward his brother for not being here to defend his fiancée from her barbaric mother.

“Well, of course. Why else would I come to this dump?” Heather says dispassionately. Her blue eyes are fluttering around the room; drinking in everything with a tinge of disgust on her face.

Tom can hardly believe what he is hearing, and furthermore, cannot believe that Casey hasn’t ripped her mother’s head off yet. Instead, the quiet red head is pouring boiling water into two cups and gently arranging the teabags in their rightful places. At closer inspection, he can see that her hands are trembling.

Casey straightens up and brings the two mugs over to her parents. Her father gives a sweet smile and a soft ‘thank you’, while her mother barely glances at her and goes back to eyeballing the apartment. Casey walks over to check up on Niall who is cooing quietly in his crib and bends down to tickle his feet.

There is a drawn out silence; Brian sits passively at the kitchen counter, sipping tea and attempting small talk with Tom; Heather strolls around the tiny apartment and aggressively takes swigs of her tea, a sneer seems to have taken a permanent residence on her face; Casey stares tiredly at Niall, her hands gripping the side of his crib and all she wants to do is go to sleep.

Taking a long, deep breath she turns to face her parents. Bravery encompasses her features as Casey stares down her mother; who, in turn, stares right back with her mouth set in a thin line.

“I’m making spaghetti and meatballs tonight, so if you want to stay for that. You can.”



Dinner is painfully quiet until Heather speaks up, “So, you said your fiancé is on tour? For what?” Surprisingly, the woman sounds genuinely interested and Casey’s guard has never been up so high.

At first, Casey doesn’t reply as she mauls over a meatball, “Well, he’s the lead singer to the band Bring Me the Horizon. Definitely the type you enjoy. Covered in tattoos, drinks a lot of alcohol, recovered drug addict and… one of the most nicest people you will ever meet.” A smile curves on her face, the first authentic smile Tom has seen since Jayde’s passing, and he feels a tinge of regret that it does not last long.

Before anyone can continue, the front door bursts open. Chum barks loudly and whimpers, clawing frantically at Casey’s bedroom door. Oliver flounders in with Oskar under his arm, a Gizmo pillow under the other arm and a duffel bag in his left hand. Everyone is staring opened mouthed, except for Casey, who has already leapt out of her seat and is running up to him.

Oliver barely has enough time to put Oskar on the ground and drop all of his belongings before Casey jumps into his arms. Forgetting everyone else, both of them passionately kiss each other. Casey can hardly contain herself as she kisses his neck, face and lips; pretty much anything she can get a hold of at eye level was kissed. Tears are rolling silently down her cheeks in delight.

“I missed yeh so much, Casey,” Oliver breathes, both of his hands pressed on either side of her face.

“I missed you too, Oli. So, so God damn much,” Casey hiccups. Oliver pulls her into another hug and she buries her face into his warm, partly-exposed chest. All of Casey’s worries, stresses and frustrations seemed to melt away when he was holding her; she had almost forgotten Tom and her parents were there.

“Uhm, so… are you going to introduce him?” Heather articulates, gawking at Oliver with wide eyes.

“Mother… father,” Casey looks at both of them individually, Oliver is gripping onto her hand, “This is my fiancé, Oliver Scott Sykes. Oli, this is my mother, Heather Wolton and my father, Brian Wolton.”

Her father clambers clumsily to his feet and sticks out his hand. Oliver shakes it firmly and gives him a slight nod; he is wearing a smile that is not exposing his teeth. Brian gives a small smirk back and returns to his seat.

“Well, it is nice to meet you properly, Oliver. Casey hasn’t attempted to contact us at all in almost two years. We had no idea she was dating someone, let alone engaged. I expect some grandchildren soon.” She sniffs, looking at him down her narrow nose.

“Oh, believe me, there will be a bun in ‘er oven soon,” Oliver says happily, giving her a toothy smile and massaging Casey’s tummy. Casey goes a bright red and pushes his hand away.

Heather seems to straighten more when he does this, patting at her hair and clothes. “Good. She’s such a lazy girl. With all of her ‘social anxiety’ nonsense. What is there to be afraid of?”

Oliver’s face drops immediately, “Don’t yeh talk about ‘er like that. Yeh can leave righ’ now if yeh gonna. It’s ‘er flat an’ she doesn’t need t’listen to yeh bullshite.”

A blossom of love bursts in Casey’s chest and she’s never loved him so much until this moment.

Her mother looks ready to explode, but she clears her voice and says, “I apologize for my choice of words.”

Casey is stunned at hearing this. Never, in all the years of knowing her mother, has she ever been apologetic for her anything she has ever said.

“Oliver, you seem like a respectable man. When I’ve gotten to know you for the next couple of days before we leave, I’d like to grant you full permission to marry my daughter,” Brian suddenly pipes up. Casey’s father looks like he fully enjoys what he is seeing and hearing from her fiancé. “Anyway, we’d best be leaving back to our hotel. I will see you tomorrow afternoon? I’d love to have lunch with you, Oli. Can I call you that?”

Heather doesn’t say word, she simply stares down at her half empty plate.

“Of course, Mr. Wolton,” Oliver says, giving a slight nod, “I’ll pay for everythin’.”

“I’ll be leavin’ too,” Tom says, getting up quickly and putting all of his dishes into the sink, “Find out where Matty boy is at an’ stay with ‘im. Goo’ bye, brothah.”

“‘Bye,” Oliver gives Tom a gentle pat on the shoulder, but to Tom it feels like the weight of the world is being set there. He had betrayed his brother last night and he would never be able to forgive himself for it.