Prompt Me Hard - 3. 248 - Family Matters

I got through the small talk with my family, but I didn’t actually start to feel better until I saw him. I knew I’d run into him sooner or later, after all, he worked at the hospital, but he was on his way to see a patient, armfuls of blankets and IV supplies. He nodded to me, a smile and a promise of later, probably with sympathy and cake for my broken self, and headed off down the hallway. I grinned, which hurt, but I’d always thought that his butt looked fucking fantastic in scrubs.

“So what happened?” My little sister, four years younger than me, and ridiculously grown up and sensible with her Prada shoes and her sleek haircut, rested her pointed little chin in her hand. I could tell that she was equal parts worried about me, but pissed about having to fly down from the city to see me. It wasn’t actually that far, but she always acted like coming out here was a really big deal.

“Well it was fucking pissing it down like all bloody day.”

“Language!” My mother admonished, slapping the corner of the bed, because she wasn’t allowed to slap me, what with her only son just having come out of surgery. “You can just say that it was a bad rain storm.”

“Fine.” I hated to watch my language around my parents. It was hard enough doing it when I went home for dinner every couple of weeks. Along with all the other shit I wasn’t allowed to talk about. “So it was raining really hard, and I know the tyres on the truck were due, but they were still usuable.” My father grunted, “It was booked in pa! The garage have the damn Ford on the books for Thursday, not that it’ll need it now I reckon.”

“Well, alright.” My father folded his arms and sighed. Compared to my sister, who’d gone to college and gotten a ‘real job’, I was always considered the irresponsible one.

“And then this fucking deer comes out of nowhere and BAM! I aquaplaned, and span out, and then there was a tree…” And nothing, until the massive bear-like fireman had cut my out of the wreckage with the jaws of life, and then I was being rushed to hospital with my stomach ripped open from navel to sternum because my ribs had punctured my spleen.

“Oh baby…” My mother squeezed my hand, “Well thank the Lord in heaven that you’re OK.”

I tried to shrug.

“On the plus side, I’ll get to letch all over that cute nurse while I’m here.” My boyfriend chose that moment to walk by again, looking cute and fuckable as all hell. I had the feeling I wasn’t going to be doing any really physical sex for a little bit though, which sucked.

My father followed my line of vision, and his face darkened.

“What the hell is it with you and all that shit boy?”

“Aww what?” This was such old ground. I saw my sister put her face in her hands in frustration, “Dad you know I’m gay.”

“No you ain’t.” Dad jabbed one thick finger into the mattress.

“Honey,” Mum again, sounding hurt and disappointed, “We know you’ve done things in your past that you regret, but you have another chance at life. It’s a good time to leave all that nonsense behind and get settled down.”

“I am settled. I love him and we live together. I want to spend the rest of my life with Ja-”

“I don’t want to hear his fucking name!” My father was on his feet, roaring and red-faced. His fists were bunched at his sides, “Listen here boy, you are going to find a nice clean girl and settled down, get married in that damn chapel like me and your momma did and have a whole host of little kids.”

“Or what?” My injuries really didn’t want me to be shouting, but I didn’t much feel like I had a choice, “Or fucking what?”

Dad grabbed mum up outta her chair and snarled.

“Then you ain’t no boy of mine. C’mon.”

Mum went with him, but it wasn’t like I expected her to do anything else. I gulped down the tears, there went my family.

My sister squeezed my hand.

“I’m sorry bro.”

“Me too.”

“Do you really love him?”

“More than I love my truck.” I smiled, and my sister matched my expression, “Yeah. I really do.”

“Good for you bro. Does he treat you well?”

“He brings me yellow roses every Sunday.” A stupid little tradition that had started when we were dating. Yellow roses and pick’n’mix sweets on a Sunday morning. I always bought the sweets.

“You’re lucky.” She stood, and kissed the un-bandaged part of my forehead. “Hold onto him tight big brother.”

“You bet.”

She stood and gathered up her coat and expensive little purse.

“What are you gonna go with the deer?”

It hurt, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Lucky fucker made it out un scathed. Who’d have thought right?”

She looked me up and down, and turned to go.

“Same people who doubted that either of us would ever make anything of ourselves bro. Look at us now.”

I watched my sister clip down the hallway in her fashionable footwear and skinny suit and shirt. Yeah, just look at us now, my sister not finding love and me with my beat up self.

“Hey there big guy.” He was standing there smiling at me.

The world just keeps on getting brighter.