When you reach a certain age, there just comes a point where moving back in with your parents becomes embarrassing. Most people Henry knew had done it once or twice, typically in their early twenties. Jobs were hard done find fresh out of college, and without money, you couldn't pay rent. Many of his friends have been forced to take unpaid internships and the like, and had all moved back home so they could continue their studies and experience until they could get a livable wage.
For Henry though, the thought of moving back in made him ashamed. He'd left their house full of optimism, of to college. He was going to be the first one to go, the first one in his family to get a higher education. He'd done everything right, studied hard in school, gotten good grades. He was an only child, and so there was some extra pressure on him to succeed, but academically he thrived on it. He had enough friends in school, though he was certainly a nerd more than a jock, and life had looked so bright when he'd headed of to college.
Big things were expected of him.
He loved mathematics. Out of all the subjects he was good at, math came easily. In his brain he could see the equations, solve them quickly. He aced his courses with flying colors. Within a few years he was a tutor, helping younger students in the classes, earning extra credit and the eye of the professor who would be looking to take some more of the academically gifted students on after they graduated.
But it never eventuated. The economy crashed, and with it all facets of society. Budgets were cut, people laid off. For the college, that suddenly meant they were on a tighter string, and extra hirings were something that was laughed at.
Henry had been relying on getting that job, allowing him to continue his studies and earn a wage. But in the space of a week it all evaporated. He was out, no money, and nowhere else to go, with a degree that only worked on a college or university campus.
And here he was, on his parents doorsteps once again. They had a small two-story apartment on the east side, a middle class neighborhood full of hardworking folks. Brick buildings sandwiched together, a small garden out front and a backyard wide enough to hang a washing line up and that was it. The air had that smell of the city, wet concrete from the rain, the steam from the gutters, and the occasional sea breeze being so close to the docks. He'd grown up here. And now he was back.
"Henry!" His mother opened the door, a huge smile on her face as she rushed down the concrete steps to greet him. She had done her hair up into a messy bun, brunette curls falling down her neck, as she wore a knee length floral dress that kicked up as she sped towards him. She gave him a big hug as he stood there, blushing, arms pinned to his sides by his mother's embrace.
"Hi." He squeaked. His bags dropped out of his hands as his mother tightened her grip before pulling away.
She grabbed him by the face, still smiling. She was a beautiful woman, Henry knew. His friends had made a few boyish comments when they had been growing up about his mother. She was young too, a decade younger than his Dad. They'd met while working together at the docks. His Dad had been a Junior Harbormaster, while his mother had been hired as an accountant in the office. They said it had been love at first sight.
"I'm so happy your home!" She pinched his cheek. Henry shrugged her off, blushing redder. "Come! We've got your old room all ready. We haven't touched it, despite your father wanting to turn it into a study. I told him absolutely not -- and it's a good thing I did!"
Henry picked his bags up and followed his mother inside. His old room was on the second level, opposite his parents. It had made privacy a real issue as a teenager. It looked like nothing changed.
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After spending the afternoon unpacking and talking to his mother, his father arrived home for dinner. He gave him a big hug, saying how good it was to see him again. It had been some time since they'd all been together under the same roof, and his parents seemed to be glowing to have him here. They weren't upset at all that Henry hadn't been able to find a job. They were good people, hard working. They had always been close, all three of them. They didn't bring it up, or ask him what he was going to do. They just carried on as normal.
As bad as Henry felt, suddenly out of prospects and between jobs, it was comforting to sit at the dinner table with his parents. His mother cooked his favorite, spaghetti, and his father even handed him a beer as they sat down. He'd never done that before. His mother chose water.
They talked all the way through the meal, his father and mother telling him what had been happening at work, with their friends and with their family. His father had just landed a promotion, a new sizable paycheck as well, something he had been working towards for years. Henry felt happy for his father.
"Why don't you use your new income to go on holiday and travel?" Henry asked. "I can't remember the last time you two went on holiday."
His father shot his mother a look. A quick one, Henry just catching it. His mother continued to eat, though she seemed more interested on what was on her plate than before.
"We've... we've decided to save the money. Put it to use for something else." His father said.
"Oh? Like what?" Henry asked.
"Rainy day."
His mother looked over at him, smiling. "Now, I want you to know, you can stay here as long as you want. I mean it. You're father is earning more money here, so there's no rush for you to go right back out there and find any job. You focus on what's best for you."
"Thanks mom." Henry went back to eating his food, but he couldn't help but feel something was out of place. His mother had quickly changed the subject. What were they up too?
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After a week of living in the house, Henry knew something was up with his parents. Whenever he collected the mail out of the post box out front, there would always be a handful addressed to his mother. All from medical clinics. A few were Gynecologists, and strangely enough, fertility centers. His Mother wasn't that old, she was only forty-two, but her getting pregnant again seemed unlikely.
But, with nothing much for Henry to do, he'd been spending a lot of time in his room, studying and on his computer, and his mother seemed to be having a lot of things going on. Every day she was popping out of the house, to run errands, and would be gone for hours. Something was definitely up.
And then one night, late in the evening, he heard his parents talking. His door was shut, but there's must have been open, and across the small hallway he could hear everything they were saying. Maybe they assumed he was asleep, or they'd simply forgotten how loud they could be with no one else living here for a few years?
Regardless, Henry had been on his phone, scrolling through his newsfeed on his old single bed in the dark, when he heard his mother talking to his father.
"... they say I can't do it. They say if I go full term, the risk of death is ninety percent."
"Then we get a second opinion."
"This is the fourth opinion we've gotten Jack! They all say the same."
"There has to be another option. We've tried, for so many years..."
"You can't do it. Not with your heart. If you do, you'll be worse off than me."
There was the sound of someone sitting on the bed, sighing, the springs squeaking. Possibly his father. "I can't believe it. All this time..."
