Smiles Echo In My Memory

20th July.

Four days until Frank, Linda and I were expected on our flight back to England. And I was uncertain. I felt like something was changing, something was going to go wrong.
“Sazzy? Frankie? Will you both come down, please?” Linda called from downstairs. Frank and I were lying in bed, resting. I wasn’t feeling up-to-scratch, and I think Frank felt a little bloated - he had eaten quite a lot today, and I was very proud of him. He proved himself to me.
“Coming, Mom,” Frank called back, sitting up and sliding out of the bed. I followed suit, trailing behind him, down the stairs and into the kitchen were Linda sat.
“You should both sit down.”
I was quite scared, actually. I didn’t know what to expect. I sat in the wooden chair next to Frank, his fingers entwining with mine. Unexpectedly, he pulled me towards him, his arm wrapping around me. Linda got us cokes, and sat back down opposite us. Papers were scattered all over the circular dining table, and Linda’s reading glasses resting on top of a stack of yellow-y looking papers. It all looked very official and important.
“Okay… Well… I don’t know how to say this, but I’m going to be straight with you both,” Frank looked a little confused, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.
“I’m staying here, in Jersey.”
My eyes widened. If Linda was staying… surely, Frank was, too? Frank seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“…What?” he asked, dumbstruck.
“Your father needs me. Even though we’re divorced, we are still close… good friends,” she explained softly.
“But… What… I have to stay,” Frank confirmed.
“Not if you don’t want to. I’ve been working this all out. You are now, officially, the second owner of the house in Brighton,” Linda assured, smiling slightly.
“What?!”
“I had to find a few loop-holes, but it’s all set.”
“You’re letting me leave… and live alone in England…?” he sounded unsure, frightened. He squeezed my hand.
“If you want to.”
I could see his mind racing, his eyes showing his confused, tangled-up thoughts.
“… I can’t,” he finally uttered after a good five minutes.
“Why can’t you? I trust you with this. You’re not my little boy anymore… You’re my big, grown-up son, Frankie,” Linda pressed, leaning forward in her chair.
“Dad,” he uttered, his voice cracking, making the voice I despised. I shuddered.
“No… Sazzy,” he closed his eyes. He had the biggest decision he’d have to make in his life so far, I thought.
Me or his father.
I hated this conclusion.
“Mom… Could you leave us alone for a minute?” Frank asked. His voice was still a whispery croak, his eyes still shut. She complied, walking swiftly out of the door and towards the living room. He opened up his red-rimmed, watery eyes and looked deep into mine.
“What do I do?”
“What ever is right,” I mumbled. I didn’t notice that my eyes were watering, too. I blinked, a few tears streaming down my cheeks. He wiped them away, his own eyes producing tears.
“Please don’t cry,” he muttered, only making me cry even more.
“Sazzy… You have to understand… My Dad… He might die,”
“I can stay with you, can’t I?” I whispered. He closed his eyes again. I could tell he was pondering over it.
“I want you to…” he started, his eyes still shut.
“But you can’t.”
My heart felt like it was ripping apart into zillions of little pieces, scattering apart in my chest.
“W-Why not?!”
“You have college to go to over there… and a mother to look after. Not forgetting your sisters… all your friends, Katie, Sydney… Charley… Everyone is there.”
“But you’re here…” I muttered, more tears streaming down my face. His eyes cracked open, his eyes red and his tears clinging to his lashes.
“You can’t, Sazzy. You know you can’t. You’re Mom doesn’t even know about us… How can you stay?”
“Please, Frankie,” I whispered, the lump in my throat getting bigger with each breath I sucked in. He shook his head, pulling me into his chest.
“You have to go.”