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“I don’t wanna talk,” I mumbled.
E sat on the edge of the bed slowly, gauging my vulnerability. “Look, Lucy…usually I like to lead with my constructive criticism and follow it up with a warm and fuzzy compliment to ease the sting.”
I rolled my eyes quite effectively.
“But this time, I’m going to skip the pleasantries,” she continued. “You need to get your shit together.” When I gave her a confused look, she pressed on, pouring salt into my proverbial wounds as she went. “You’ve been holed up in your room—which smells like the funk of a teenage boy, by the way—you’ve been crying yourself to sleep every night and you’ve hardly eaten.”
Looking to the ceiling, I willed my eyes to stay dry. Five minutes is all I’d need until I could shoo her out of my room. Finally, I mustered, “I’m not hungry.” This time, she gave me a cynical look, so I followed it up with, “And I haven’t been holed up in here.”
“Then why does it smell so bad? Oh my god, when was the last time you showered?” Incredulously, she reached for a fuzzy portion of my braid, then decided against touching it. That was probably a wise move.
“Uh, yesterday?” I questioned even myself.
“Try a day or two before that.” When I didn’t move, she gently nudged me. “Come on, you’ll feel better.”
I sighed heavily. “You ever have one of those days where you’re staring at a gif waiting for it to move, only to realize it’s actually a picture?” She exhaled, imagining it. “That’s how I feel. I’m just waiting and staring at something that isn’t going to happen.”
A minute passed before she answered. “That may be how you feel, for right now at least, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Get up, get in the shower and I’ll make you your favorite meal. Whatever you want.” She stood and I could tell that the effort from refraining to straighten the clothes scattered around my room was killing her.
I threw the pillow aside dramatically—because if I was anything as of late, it was that—and crawled to the end of the bed. “I want chicken and lemon orzo. I’ll even shave my legs to give you extra time to have it done by the time I’m out.”
E responded with a slight nod, acknowledging my request. She didn’t say anything as she walked toward the door, but the faintest smile played on her ambiguous lips.
E
Unpopular opinion:Iliked Celine Dion. I even considered seeing her in Vegas at her residency. But now, you couldn’t pay me enough.
In Lucy’s struggle, she had been blasting “The Power of Love.” And not just blaring the ballad, she had it on repeat. And I couldn’t stand it anymore.
After forcing her to shower and sharing our meal of lemon orzo, she seemed to come around a bit. By no means was she back to her former self, but I began to see little glimpses of the Lucy that I knew was in there.
It had been much the same after our parent’s divorce. Lucy retreated into herself and used music as a coping mechanism. Her last band of choice was No Doubt. I couldn’t listen to “Don’t Speak” the same anymore.
Today was a good day, though. Lucy was in better spirits and I was glad of it. But I needed to get her out of the house. I told her it would do her some good to sit at the pool and get some much-needed vitamin D after becoming a recluse.
Since my tough-love speech with her, she had focused her energy on me. Not in a lashing out way, but more like I was her new form of entertainment. It was a never-ending cycle of watching movies with her, playing board games and taking ridiculous BuzzFeed quizzes with her.
Yesterday I didn’t care to decorate a desk to find out what dream job I’d have, and today, I still didn’t. Nor did I need a farcical source to tell me my deepest, darkest secret based on the school supplies I picked. Seriously, who took those?
Lucy, that’s who. At least she was smiling. But I worried about how much of it was superficial.
Before I could dive into that rabbit hole, there was a knock at the door. Opening it, I was surprised to see Jake. He looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes.
“Hey…what are you doing here?” I mean, after I asked, I scoffed at myself. Of course, I knew why he was here.
He toed the corner of the welcome mat before he replied. “I, uh…” His eyes snapped to me and then, “Did I do something wrong?” he rushed. “She won’t return my calls or texts, Liam told me to let it be, I’ve been debating on whether or not to reach out to you…I just—I just don’t know what to do.”
The sight of his uncertainty and the anguish in his voice was heartbreaking.Way to go, Lucy.Jake was asking for advice, begging for any insight into what the hell went wrong with the two of them.
I liked Jake a lot. He was a great guy and it was beyond obvious how happy he made my sister. Tamping down the disappointment I felt toward Lucy, I held my finger up, motioning to Jake that I’d be back in a second.
Scribbling a quick note on the fridge white board telling Lucy that I stepped out, I grabbed my purse and met Jake at the door.
“Let’s go for coffee where we can talk,” I offered, flicking my head toward where my car was parked.
Fifteen minutes later we were seated with our drinks in hand.
I looked at Jake, not knowing really where to begin. I felt responsible to apologize for Lucy, on her behalf, but I forced myself not to. He sat across from me, waiting with patience that I knew he most likely didn’t have.
