should I think?”
“Oh, Ian. I’m sorry about that. But you were on my mind today.”
“Yeah? In a good way or a bad way?”
“For goodness sake! More questions? Of course in a good way. I sketched your portrait. Dad says he’d recognize you a mile away, that you could walk right off the page. Of course, it’s only a sketch...well, with details. But I was looking through our family albums—Kayla and you and all of us—and I suddenly started to draw. It was so strange because at first I thought I was sketching Kayla, but out you came instead. It’s my first portrait in a long time, in fact, since your sister died. You were my inspiration.”
A moment of silence. “Glad I could help. Congratulations.” Then he was gone.
I looked at Jack. “He disconnected. What did I say? What did I do?”
Jack took out his mobile and called Ian’s number.
No answer.
#
IAN
I heard the cell ring from way across the living room on the floor where I’d thrown it. The damn thing hadn’t broken. For some reason, that made me laugh. Families broke easier than phones these days.
I returned my mom’s call while Colleen unpacked her stuff in the bedroom. She didn’t see or hear anything. Not that it would really matter, not with her family dysfunctional in their own way. I guess I wasn’t used to my family being such a mess, and I wanted some privacy.
My mother was losing it. Totally. Sure, I’d been on her mind. She still held me responsible for Kayla dying. No matter what she said otherwise. Her apologies sucked. She thought I was a murderer or a negligent homicider, if that’s a word.
At first, I’d hoped she called just to chat. To catch up. If she was short on topics, I could have supplied some—
How about our Houston weather? How’s work? Do you like your job? What about those Astros? How’s your life? Or I could have brought up the forbidden topic myself. “Do you want to talk about that horrible day?”
I had to accept that my mom didn’t care about anyone but Kayla. And maybe a little about Dad. But he was still swallowing those antacid pills all the time, so she couldn’t really be supporting him. Their anniversary was coming up. I wondered if they’d celebrate. Wasn’t betting on it.
Chapter 13
CLAIRE
An hour after Jack left for the office on Saturday morning, Judy rapped at my kitchen door and walked in unannounced. I was about to start the dishwasher but forgot to press the button when I saw her. My petite sister stood straight and tall, reminding me of a fire-breathing Viking. I cocked my head, confused.
“What are you doing here? I thought your boys had soccer practice on Saturdays.”
“Charlie can take them. You come first with me today,” she replied. “You need an intervention, and I’m the one to do it. Get dressed. We’ve got an appointment with Juanita in an hour.”
I touched my hair, glanced out the back window toward my studio, then looked at Judy. “Sorry, I’m working. I-I started something new yesterday. In clay.”
“That can wait,” she said. “The clay’s not going anywhere, but you are, and I’m not kidding.” Hands on her hips, she glared at me, but I glimpsed her pained expression before she could hide it. “I swear to God,” she said, “I’ll pull you into the shower if I have to. Now, get going.”
Judy was normally a thoughtful, gentle girl, my friend as well as kid sister. Seemed she’d had a personality shift. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m not going to let you drown yourself, Claire. Jack’s afraid you’re going backwards. Ian worries too. And Mom. You see her a couple of times a week. Haven’t you noticed that she’s lost weight just like you?”
“Oh.” I hadn’t noticed.
“Yeah. Oh,” she parroted.
“But...but... I go to the office. I do my job. I make Jack happy.” But inside, I scared myself. I was afraid, afraid to tell them that sometimes my chest hurt so bad I could hardly speak. “Kayla....”
“Oh, Ian. I’m sorry about that. But you were on my mind today.”
“Yeah? In a good way or a bad way?”
“For goodness sake! More questions? Of course in a good way. I sketched your portrait. Dad says he’d recognize you a mile away, that you could walk right off the page. Of course, it’s only a sketch...well, with details. But I was looking through our family albums—Kayla and you and all of us—and I suddenly started to draw. It was so strange because at first I thought I was sketching Kayla, but out you came instead. It’s my first portrait in a long time, in fact, since your sister died. You were my inspiration.”
A moment of silence. “Glad I could help. Congratulations.” Then he was gone.
I looked at Jack. “He disconnected. What did I say? What did I do?”
Jack took out his mobile and called Ian’s number.
No answer.
#
IAN
I heard the cell ring from way across the living room on the floor where I’d thrown it. The damn thing hadn’t broken. For some reason, that made me laugh. Families broke easier than phones these days.
I returned my mom’s call while Colleen unpacked her stuff in the bedroom. She didn’t see or hear anything. Not that it would really matter, not with her family dysfunctional in their own way. I guess I wasn’t used to my family being such a mess, and I wanted some privacy.
My mother was losing it. Totally. Sure, I’d been on her mind. She still held me responsible for Kayla dying. No matter what she said otherwise. Her apologies sucked. She thought I was a murderer or a negligent homicider, if that’s a word.
At first, I’d hoped she called just to chat. To catch up. If she was short on topics, I could have supplied some—
How about our Houston weather? How’s work? Do you like your job? What about those Astros? How’s your life? Or I could have brought up the forbidden topic myself. “Do you want to talk about that horrible day?”
I had to accept that my mom didn’t care about anyone but Kayla. And maybe a little about Dad. But he was still swallowing those antacid pills all the time, so she couldn’t really be supporting him. Their anniversary was coming up. I wondered if they’d celebrate. Wasn’t betting on it.
Chapter 13
CLAIRE
An hour after Jack left for the office on Saturday morning, Judy rapped at my kitchen door and walked in unannounced. I was about to start the dishwasher but forgot to press the button when I saw her. My petite sister stood straight and tall, reminding me of a fire-breathing Viking. I cocked my head, confused.
“What are you doing here? I thought your boys had soccer practice on Saturdays.”
“Charlie can take them. You come first with me today,” she replied. “You need an intervention, and I’m the one to do it. Get dressed. We’ve got an appointment with Juanita in an hour.”
I touched my hair, glanced out the back window toward my studio, then looked at Judy. “Sorry, I’m working. I-I started something new yesterday. In clay.”
“That can wait,” she said. “The clay’s not going anywhere, but you are, and I’m not kidding.” Hands on her hips, she glared at me, but I glimpsed her pained expression before she could hide it. “I swear to God,” she said, “I’ll pull you into the shower if I have to. Now, get going.”
Judy was normally a thoughtful, gentle girl, my friend as well as kid sister. Seemed she’d had a personality shift. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m not going to let you drown yourself, Claire. Jack’s afraid you’re going backwards. Ian worries too. And Mom. You see her a couple of times a week. Haven’t you noticed that she’s lost weight just like you?”
“Oh.” I hadn’t noticed.
“Yeah. Oh,” she parroted.
“But...but... I go to the office. I do my job. I make Jack happy.” But inside, I scared myself. I was afraid, afraid to tell them that sometimes my chest hurt so bad I could hardly speak. “Kayla....”
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