Three weeks with my brother - Nicholas Sparks [92]
She looked at me, zeroing in on the one cause I’d hoped she would overlook.
“Brain tumor?” she asked quietly.
I shrugged. “It can cause seizures, but believe me—it’s not all that likely that you have one. I’d say it’s the least likely of everything I mentioned.”
She glanced toward her lap. “I don’t want a brain tumor,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” I reassured her, hoping to hide my fears. “Like I said, that’s probably not the reason.”
Over the next few weeks, Dana underwent a number of tests. The doctors couldn’t find what was wrong with her. CAT scans were inconclusive, but since she had no more seizures, it seemed to us that the worst had passed. Still, the uncertainty weighed heavily on us; we still had no idea what had caused the seizure in the first place.
It had also come time for me to move to North Carolina.
Cat and I had talked about it numerous times since Dana had gone to the hospital; she suggested that we might consider staying, even though I’d have to find another job. Dana might need us, she said. We can put our dreams on hold for a while. At least until we know what’s going on.
It was one of those choices in life without any ideal option.
“Let me talk to Micah,” I finally said. “Let me see what he thinks.”
That night, when I explained the guilt I felt about moving away, he put his hand on my shoulder.
“There’s nothing you can do for Dana,” he said. “We don’t even know what’s wrong yet. But you’ve got to think about your family. You have a baby now. You’ve got to do what you think is best for him.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes.
“I don’t know . . .”
“I’ll watch out for Dana. I’m still here, and so is dad. And you’re only a flight away if we need you.”
“It doesn’t feel right to just leave, though.”
“I don’t want you to go either,” he said. Then, with a smile, he added, “But remember, Nick—what you want and what you get are usually two entirely different things.”
A few days before Christmas 1992, Cathy flew out with the baby to North Carolina to meet the moving van; I stayed behind to finish showing my brother around his new territory and introduce him to various doctors. Because our apartment had been emptied, I slept in my old room at my dad’s house the night before my departure.
Micah came over to help me pack my remaining items in the car: I would drive it cross-country. I noticed that he was wearing a pair of shorts of mine; because we were the same size, we had borrowed each other’s clothes for years.
Micah had worked a couple of summers loading trucks for Consolidated Freightways and knew how to load the items to prevent them from being damaged. With the exception of the driver’s seat, the car was completely filled. We were standing just inside the door when the time came to say good-bye; I’d already said my good-byes to Dana and my dad. But it was time to go, and both Micah and I knew it.
In the house were a thousand memories; in my mind, I could hear mom’s laughter from the kitchen, and see my brother and sister at the table. For the second time in my life, I was leaving my family, but this time was different. The last time I’d left, I’d been a teenager; now I had a family of my own; I knew I’d never be moving back.
“It looks like when we loaded the Volkswagen to move here, doesn’t it?” I cracked.
“It’s pretty full. But at least it’s level this time. How long will it take you to get there?”
“Four days or so.”
“Drive safe.”
“I will.”
We hugged. “I’m going to miss you,” I said.
“I’ll miss you, too.”
“I love you, Micah.”
He squeezed harder. “I love you, too, little brother.”
When we separated, I could feel the tears coming, but tried to hold them back. We’d come to depend heavily on each other in the last three years, but I tried to diminish the significance of what was happening. I told myself that we were simply moving; it wasn