Staying in Downers Grove hadn’t been Topher’s first choice. He had applied and been accepted to MIT and had been looking forward to attending the prestigious school in the fall. Being in Massachusetts also meant he’d be close to Sam in Rhode Island, which really sweetened the deal. Unfortunately, life had other plans.
There was a soft knock on Topher’s door.
“Come in,” he said.
Topher’s mother, Shelly Collins, stepped inside his bedroom. She was already dressed for her night shift at the hotel she worked at in Chicago.
“Hey,” she said. “Hope I’m not interrupting WizFest.”
“Mom, for the hundredth time, it’s WizCon,” Topher said. “And we just finished.”
“Oh sorry, WizCon,” Shelly said. “Well, I’m headed to work. Billy is already asleep downstairs so you don’t need to worry about putting him to bed.”
Topher’s twelve-year-old brother had cerebral palsy and had been confined to a wheelchair for most his life. Even though he had limited speech and needed assistance eating, bathing, dressing, and using the restroom, disabled and handicapped were words Topher would never use to describe his brother. Billy was the happiest and most loving child Topher had ever met. He laughed and smiled at every opportunity he could, even if there was nothing to laugh or smile about. It was like Billy knew a secret the rest of the world hadn’t figured out yet.
“Cool, I’ll check on him before I go to bed,” Topher said.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Shelly said, but lingered in the doorway.
“Anything else?” he asked.
There definitely was—Shelly had a look in her eye that told Topher she had something serious she needed to get off her chest. She had a seat on his bed so they could talk.
“I’ve felt so guilty I haven’t had a chance to thank you,” Shelly said. “What you’re doing for your brother—what you’re doing for our family—well, it’s something that should’ve never been asked of you.”
“Mom, you gotta stop feeling bad about it,” Topher said. “If I went away to school, you couldn’t juggle Billy and work all on your own. Dad’s teaching gig in Seattle is only going to last two more years—that gives me plenty of time to get my GE degree here and transfer to someplace fancier when he gets back. It’ll be a lot cheaper for me in the long run, too.”
“Just because it makes sense doesn’t make it right,” Shelly said, and glanced up at his valedictorian medal. “You worked so hard in school so you could go to a good college. I never wanted your brother to set you back in any way, or give you a reason to resent him later.”
Although a good portion of Billy’s care fell on Topher’s shoulders, he never resented his brother. Having a sibling with special needs was exhausting and stressful in ways people could never understand without experiencing it themselves, but the only resentment Topher ever felt was toward the people who pretended to know what it was like—or worse, the people who didn’t even try.
In many ways, Topher had more reasons to be thankful for his brother. Living with someone who had actual struggles and genuine limitations gave Topher a unique perspective on his own life: Topher was an overachiever and a perfectionist because, in his mind, there was no reason he couldn’t be. His daily inconveniences seemed so minor in comparison to his brother’s. And knowing his brother would become his sole responsibility one day when their parents were gone, Topher never gave himself the option of failing.
Billy wasn’t keeping Topher from success; he was the key to Topher’s success.
“Mom, I would never blame Billy for this,” Topher said. “This is my decision and no one else’s. And it’s not a setback, it’s just a detour. MIT isn’t going anywhere.”
Shelly smiled, but the guilt never left her eyes.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve a son like you,” she said. “Now, speaking of detours, is everything set for your trip tomorrow?”
“I think so,” Topher said. “Thanks again for letting us use your car and taking the time off work so I could go.”
“It’s the least I could do,” Shelly said, and checked her watch. “I better get going so I’m not late—the drunks and stoners aren’t going to check in themselves. I’ll stop at the gas station on my way home so you can start your day tomorrow with a full tank.”
She kissed her son on the forehead and left for work.
Topher would have been lying to himself if he said he was happy about the decision to stay home for college. Still, he knew the right decision wasn’t always the easy one—that was a lesson Dr. Bumfuzzle had taught him in one of the early episodes of Wiz Kids.