The Bandage on the Other Side

Aaron swallowed, and his throat bobbed. “Mom told me Ruby couldn’t find out Dad had asked for his son and not his daughter. She said you couldn’t know I’d agreed to go without you. So you were going to Florida for baseball camp.”

The room seemed to swallow every sound.

My fingers tightened around the hospital paper. Its edges trembled against my palms, and I felt cold all over. Mom’s complicated story, carefully arranged over months, hadn’t been meant to fool the whole world. It had been made for me.

She’d asked everyone to play along so her ten-year-old daughter wouldn’t have to learn that her father hadn’t wanted her—and that her brother had been prepared to leave her behind.

“I’m sorry, Rubes.” Aaron’s voice cracked. Tears slid down his cheeks. “I was an idiot. I just wanted Dad back.”

I crossed the room and lowered myself onto his mattress, taking care not to jostle his injured leg. I didn’t put my arms around him. The truth had hurt too much for that. Still, I stayed beside him.

“What happened in Montana?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

Aaron swiped at his face with one hand. “The first three weeks were fun. Nobody set rules. We ate junk and stayed up late. Then it stopped feeling new. He started missing work, and beer cans kept collecting in the garage. He was the person Mom had said he was. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

His gaze dropped to the long row of staples across his knee.

“In August, he got a used four-wheeler. We went out on a gravel road. He was meant to watch me, but he’d brought a cooler in the back of his truck and he’d been drinking. I took a turn too fast, and the ATV rolled.” Aaron’s words thinned to a whisper. “The bar came down on my leg. I heard something break. I couldn’t move.”

A clammy chill spread across the back of my neck. “Did Dad call an ambulance?”

Aaron gave a bitter shake of his head. “He was scared he’d be arrested. He pulled me into his truck and drove me to the ER in Bozeman. They looked at my leg and said I needed surgery right away. When they asked him to agree to it, he freaked out. He went to his truck, saying he was going to make a call.”

He turned toward me. Pain seemed to twist his whole face, even though he was speaking about something that had already happened. “Then he drove off, Ruby. He left me there. I was bleeding through my jeans, and he just left. I had to borrow a nurse’s phone to call Mom.”

The pieces of the story slid into place, one after another. “Mom’s conference in Denver,” I murmured. “The real estate one last month.”

“She got on a plane to Bozeman right away,” Aaron said. “She signed the papers for the operation and paid the bills. Because of my leg and the surgery, I had to stay in Bozeman until they said I could fly home. Mom rented an apartment so I could recover there.”

Suddenly the details I’d noticed at home made sense: the baseball bag that looked untouched, Aaron’s stiff leg at dinner, and Mom keeping the salt near his right hand. She hadn’t been fussing over guests. She’d been caring for someone hurt and still healing.

“That message you got today,” I said. I could picture the lit screen in the living room. “The one from the 406 number. Was it Dad?”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah. He wanted to know if I’d made it home. I haven’t written back.” His mouth tightened. “I don’t think I will.”

I glanced down at the discharge sheet. Mom’s tidy signature sat at the bottom. She’d crossed the country, handled an emergency, and brought Aaron home, then acted as if everything was normal for me. All the frightening parts had stayed with her, while my life went on.

“There’s more,” Aaron said. His voice changed, becoming tense in a different way.

He shifted forward and winced. Then he reached beneath his pillow and took out his phone. After unlocking it, he kept the messages closed and looked at me.

“Dad came to see me after the surgery,” he said. “Mom showed him a paper. I don’t know what it was, but when he saw it, he left the hospital.” Aaron paused, watching my face. “I saw that same paper in her blue folder.”