“You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow night.”
“No! I wanna talk about you and Christy. You’re such a goof! But not mine anymore. Que lástima,” she added with an overblown sigh.
“Whatever that means.”
“It means I miss you. Duh!”
Regan called to her in the background.
“Hold on,” Gina said. She covered the mouthpiece but returned a moment later. “Hey, I’m sorry, I have to go. We’re late already, and traffic’s a nightmare around LAX. I can’t wait to see you, though.”
“Me too.”
“And I can’t wait to meet Christy. She sounds wonderful.”
“She is.”
Regan yelled again.
“I have to go. See you tomorrow. Bye!”
“See you tomorrow,” I said, but she was already gone.
* * *
Christy came home late from the studio. She was covered in marble dust and completely worn out.
“I’ll fix you a drink,” I said. “You head on up. I’ll be there in a few minutes and we’ll run a bath.”
She nodded blankly and trudged up the stairs.
I wasn’t sure when she’d eaten last, so I grabbed a box of raisins for some quick energy. I fixed her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as well. She was just sitting on the bed when I came upstairs. I handed her the box and set the plate and glass on the nightstand. Then I went to start the water. I returned to find her with the raisins open but mostly untouched.
“Everything tastes like marble,” she complained. “It’s yucky.”
“Oh, boy. Come on.” I grabbed the food and ushered her into the bathroom. “Can you undress yourself? Or do you want help?”
“I can do it.”
I stripped off my own clothes and tested the water. “In you go,” I said. “Shower first. I’ll wash your hair.”
“Thank you.”
She stepped under the water, and I rinsed off the worst of the dust. Then I shampooed her hair and massaged her scalp. She swayed drunkenly.
“Dizzy?”
She nodded.
“Uh-oh.” I rinsed her hair as quickly as I could. Then I shut off the water and swept the curtain aside. I grabbed the raisins. “Eat. Now.”
“Yes, sir.” She chewed and swallowed mechanically. Then her metabolism started to process the sugar in the raisins, and she perked up a bit.
“You going to live?” I asked, not entirely as a joke.
She nodded and didn’t stop chewing. I fed her the sandwich next. And when she finished that, I turned on the water and plugged the drain. I scooted past her and sat. She sank between my legs.
I reached for the glass of whiskey, but she shook her head. Then she turned on her side, laid her head on my chest, and heaved a sigh of exhaustion. She was asleep almost before I realized it.
* * *
She slept like the dead and didn’t wake up until I shook her gently the next morning. Even then, she burrowed into the pillow and tried to ignore me. I shook her again.
“Go away,” she grumped. Then, “What time is it?”
“Almost ten thirty. We need to leave by noon.”
She sighed.
“What do you want for breakfast?” I asked. “Cereal? Toast? Fruit? Eggs?”
“Yes, please.”
I chuckled and headed downstairs to make it—all of it. I returned with a tray full of food and a glass of juice. I’d even found a bud vase and made a tissue-paper flower to stick in it. Christy sat up and smiled when she saw.
“Sorry we didn’t have real flowers,” I said.
“That’s okay. This one’s perfect.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and picked up the napkin. She ate quietly, and her energy grew with each bite. She was like a flower herself, one that simply needed a little sunlight and nourishment.
“Better?” I asked when she finished.
“Yes. Thank you.” She grew thoughtful and then said, “I need your help. I’m almost done, but I bit off more than I can chew. Nikki’s super-helpful, but…”
“She doesn’t take care of you like I do.”
“No one does.”
“I’ve sort of taken over for your brothers, haven’t I?”
She smiled but then turned melancholy.
“What?”
“Laurence. He died three years ago. On Tuesday. I didn’t even remember.”
“You’ve been pretty busy,” I said.
“I still feel him sometimes, watching over me. I know he’s happy.” She blinked back tears and forced a smile. “He always was, but now he doesn’t have to worry about anything.”
“No.”
“Sometimes I want to tell him everything that’s happened since he died. But then I realize I’m being silly. He’s in heaven. He knows.”
I didn’t share Christy’s faith, but she believed with all her heart, and I wasn’t such a skeptic that I couldn’t take comfort from it as well.
She thought of something and smiled for real. “Do you know the Serenity Prayer?”
“God, grant me the serenity…? That one?”
“Yes. Have you ever heard the whole thing? It’s Protestant, but I still like it. The second verse especially.”
I frowned in thought. “Courage to change the things I can?”
“No, that’s still the first. The second’s longer. It’s about accepting the sinful world as it is. About putting your faith in God and trying to be reasonably happy. I think that’s what Laurie wants me to do,” she added. “I can’t talk to God directly, but he can. And I’m sure he made me think of that just now.”
I cleared my throat and asked, “Why?”
“To remind me that I’m a sinner but still allowed to be happy.” She moved the tray aside and smiled. “Come back to bed?”
* * *
“Sorry we’re late,” I said as we burst into the airport waiting room in Atlanta.
Mom closed the magazine she’d been reading. She smiled, but it was brittle.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I’ve been catching up on my reading. Aviation Week. USAir changed their business strategy after deregulation. Everyone did, but they’re doing well.”
“Um… okay.”
“Braniff too. They just resumed operations.”
“I wondered what happened to them.”
Christy gave me a sideways glare for my tone, but I’d already apologized once.
“Mmm,” Mom agreed. “Delta introduced a new flight planning system. I knew that already, but it was nice to read quotes from people I know.”
“I said we’re sorry.”
“It’s my fault,” Christy blurted. “I kept changing my mind about which dress to bring.”
That was a complete lie, but the truth wasn’t something we could admit in public.
I decided to offer a flag of truce. “How long have you been waiting?”
“Oh, about five Weeks,” Mom said.
It was a good pun, but I felt too guilty to laugh. I winced instead.
“I’ll survive,” she added, “but now we need to hurry. We’re taking pictures at the Coulters’. You can change clothes there.”
She didn’t quite drive like a bat out of hell, but close enough. She was venting her frustration, and I knew better than to tease her, even when we screeched to a halt in the Coulters’ driveway. A cloud of burned rubber floated forward and swirled around the tail of my dad’s Stingray. Mom climbed out of the station wagon, slammed the door, and walked toward the house without a backward glance. Christy and I watched in silence.
“Um… is she okay?”
“Yeah,” I said heavily. “Although… we probably should’ve stopped after round two this morning.”
“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
“Neither could I.”
“But… why was she waiting so long? At the airport, I mean. You called, didn’t you?”
“I did. But I had to leave a message. She must’ve been out running errands.”
Mom stopped on the front porch and shot us a peremptory look.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “We’d better get moving.” We climbed out of the car, and I told Christy, “You go on. I’ll grab the suitcase.”