#fuxwitbruno

I was laying on the couch watching all three children bounce around to a youtube of child yoga. It was day five of the quarantine and I felt like things were up and things were down. How in the world do teachers do this stuff day in and day out? I have a big enough yard. There's a pool, a swing set,a basketball court. You insisted that they have everything and after a few weeks at the house I realized you were right. They needed the stuff in the backyard.

It was 2022 and this was the second stupid mega world virus that the world was living through. This time, the world kind of knew how to handle it and the government was not playing games this time. The world wasn't playing games this time. But, you, you always played games. And this time there was an end to the game. And it won't be a happy ending, for anyone.

My phone buzzed and I glanced over at it seeing Damaris's name pop up. Ugh. What the hell is this bitch calling me for? We still played games. There were even days when I considered that we might work. But, the two of you were living a bicoastal life. You were in New York at the moment, but I had no idea where you were. You were a big boy and could take care of yourself, until you couldn't.

“Hey...” I picked up the phone walking out of the living room to get a bit of peace and quiet from the now two ten years olds and an eight year old.

  “Lauren...” Damaris paused in a quiet tone. I've never heard that tone from her. It was almost like a calm tone a mother would use when their child was hurt. Through the pause I heard a loud hoarse cough.

  “Yeah?” I hesitated. “What's going on?” I asked hearing her clear her throat.

“He didn't do what he should have.” she told me over another loud cough.

“What do you mean?” I ask still confused.

  “He's sick, dude.” Damaris said. “I think I am too.”

  “Woah, wait. Like sick?” I emphasized.

  “Yeah. It started a few days ago. He insisted he needed this new guitar and I went with and we just kind of did whatever. It wasn't crowded or anything so the quiet and being able to go shopping was kind of nice. Without people noticing and all.”

  “Oh my god! What the hell were you two thinking?” I yelled. “What the actual fuck were you two thinking?” I screamed walking to the front door closing the door behind me.

  “It was like I couldn't taste anything and he said he wasn't smelling anything and....”

  “And you didn't like remember from the last time this shit happened that these were the first signs of the damn thing? And now you're both stuck at home until you ride it out and...” I start to ramble.

  “Ummm....Laur....he's in the hospital. In isolation.” Damaris told me.

  “Until his fever spikes and his cough goes away....” I scoff.

  “Lauren....you guys need to come to New York.” Damaris said.

  “No one is traveling anywhere...” I answer.

  “His lungs are failing. His fever is like 102. He's not eating.” Damaris said sniffing away tears and coughing at the same time.

“Wait....he's 37....he's not at risk....why the hell is it so bad?” I ask not getting an answer hearing sniffs and tears with the phone being moved over to Bruno.

  “Laur....” she heard Bruno's post he drank way too much and is almost done with being hung over after smoking way too much weed voice. “I need to see them.”

  “Where is everyone?” I inquire, “Your dad, your sisters, your brother...”

  “Can you call them?” she heard a heavy sigh and more coughing. “Y'all come together...” she heard a quiet almost whisper.

  “What?” she almost yelled. “You want me to call your family and tell them you're fucking dying because you fucking didn't listen to everyone in the whole wide world and went out when this alien virus thing was going around again?” she screamed starting to cry at the gravity of what she was saying out loud. “Oh my god.....” she heard a shuffle of the phone again. “Hello?”

  “Hi...ummm....my name is Marianne and I'm a social worker here at the hospital. He changed his MPOA to you after Damaris started getting sick.....I don't know what you want to do.”

  “Don't I not make decisions unless he's incapable of making his own? He's fine....” I said remembering all my training. “I did this for a while....I get he changed it but that's not important until he can't make decisions....”

  “Yes, Ms.....” she started.

  “It's Holt.” I answered.

  “Ms. Holt, I just want you to be aware of the decision making process. Ms. Ayala doesn't have any power to make decisions and the doctor will want to talk to the two of you...” Marianne told her.

  “I'll figure out how to get there...but I need help, Marianne...right?” I clarified her name.

  “He asked me to call his family...I can't do that. I can give you the names and numbers. But I literally and figuratively cannot call his family telling them that their asshole famous musician son is dying from the same thing that's killing most of the world right now. I cannot.”

  “Yes. Ms. Holt. Please get me those numbers and I, or our end of life social worker will reach out.” Marianne said.

“End of life?” I ask starting to cry unbearable unrelenting tears. “Is that a polite way to refer to your palliative care team?”

  “Umm....” Marianne said. “Do you have someone you can reach out to, Lauren?” she asked.

  “Yeah. My sister and mother.” I respond. “I will call them. I have the numbers....” I rattled off a series of numbers for whoever the social worker saw fit, to contact and hung up. I fell into the grass face first sobbing. I don't want him dead. He has three kids. He has that bitch. He has his whole fucking family. He has the whole world...he can't end life like this....

“Mommmmmmmm!” I hear three loud versions of my name being screamed as the front door opened.

  “Mom? Is it dad?” Everlee asked as all three of the children sitting on the grass. It wasn't the first time they had all sat on the floor crying with me. It was mostly after we argued and yelled and you left me. Everlee was a pro at comforting me. Emanuelle was doing pretty well and Ezra just watched. I nodded by head.