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I shake my head.
“I can’t believe soon there’ll be another one of her running around,” Gia says as we watch Athena sleeping. “Where does time go?”
She turns to me, her eyes gleaming. With tears? I can’t be sure. “I’m scared.”
I look up at the ceiling, wishing I was looking at stars instead and that the house that enclosed us was instead a dark, noisy, unpredictable forest.
I don’t say anything.
I wait for her to answer her own question. She knows I want to know what she’s scared of. As twins and emotionally close sisters, we’ve learned to master the art of unspoken words.
She releases a deep breath. “I’m scared of losing myself. It’s so hectic sometimes; with one kid, I barely have the chance to see my husband. I worry about finishing my thesis, and I’m scared we’ll lose us. I’m scared I’ll forgetme.”
My head twists slightly, and I look straight at her. We’re not identical, but the similarities are there—both with amber hair. My head and jaw are narrow, and I have green eyes, whileGia perfectly carries off rosy cheeks and brown eyes. I’m also taller, but not by much.
I don’t even know what to tell her. Am I the right person to give relationship advice when I can’t even make my boyfriend smile?
I doubt it.
Instead, I take her hand and apply a small amount of pressure to it.
“If you lose yourself, I’ll be there to help find you.”
He looks dashing in a navy suit with a light blue dress shirt underneath. I’m wearing a midnight blue sparkling dress with heels that I borrowed from Gia.
I drive to the event, Harvey at my side and silence reigning in the car.
I know this is one thing that kills him... not being able to drive. It’d cost more money to modify the van for him to drive with hand controls. His mom offered many times to pay for it and although insurance would cover a portion of it, Harv has refused. Pride gets in the way of Harvey’s decisions.
I don’t blame him. His parents helped us a lot financially since insurance covers only so much.
My dad helped too.
And Harv also received multiple donations.
The point is, he can now easily lift himself onto the passenger seat and use the over-the-shoulder method to place his folded wheelchair in the backseat.
Still, it’s not the same for him. He used to love driving.
I want to buy him a modified car, anything but a van, so that he can drive with electronic hand controls.
The freedom that accompanies driving will be good for him.
We finally arrive at the farm lodge where the charity event for spinal cord injury called WheelOn is held.
“I got the job,” I blurt out, staring ahead, anxiously awaiting his reaction.
In my peripheral vision, I can see him face me, but I don’t have the guts to see the betrayal that might be in his eyes, so I avoid his gaze. Instead, I look at the dark night around us.
“Congratulations.” It sounds like he means it. “When do you start?”
“Next Wednesday.”
I finally face him. No dimples. No smile. None for me.
“I’ll text Claire and ask her if she can add a shift each day...”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Gemma.”
