You don’t think that. Do you, Warren?
“Mommy!” a little voice called out, excited footsteps dashing into the room.
“Oh, God. Get her out of here. No. Go on. I thought you were taking her for ice cream,” Drew said all in one breath.
“She had ice cream,” a male voice protested.
“Then get her some more.”
“What’s the matter with Auntie Casey?” the little girl asked. “Is she sleeping?”
“She’s not feeling well,” Drew answered impatiently.
“Is she sick?”
“She was in a car accident,” Warren explained.
“Will she be okay?”
“I hope so. We’re keeping our fingers crossed.”
“Can I cross mine, too?”
“I think that would be very helpful.”
“Good. See, Mommy? My fingers are crossed.”
“Great,” Drew said. “Now, Sean, if you don’t mind. A hospital room is no place for a child.”
“I can read to her, Mommy.”
“Maybe some other time. Sean …”
“Okay, okay. Come on, Lola. You can have that piece of cake you had your eye on.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Sean, for God’s sake—”
“You know what?” Warren interrupted. “I think they have a kids’ playroom downstairs. Would you like to see it?”
“Can I, Mommy?”
“By all means.”
“How about I show you where it is?” Warren said.
“I’m sure Sean can manage on his own,” Drew told him. “There are still some things we need to discuss.”
“I think we’ve discussed enough for one afternoon.”
Casey could tell from the way Warren’s voice was receding that he was already at the door.
“You can go, too, Sean,” Drew said dismissively. “Warren, I’ll wait here till you get back.”
“Suit yourself.”
The door closed, leaving Casey alone with her sister. “I always do,” Drew said.
EIGHT
“S o, here we are again,” Drew continued, as Casey pictured her sister walking over to the window. “Just like old times. Except in those days, I was the one pretty much in a coma, and you were the one pacing back and forth, trying to figure out what to do with me.”
True enough, Casey thought, her mind racing back through all the years they’d shared the same house, the nights she’d spent waiting anxiously for her sister to come home, the days she’d spent watching her sleeping off a drunken bender, the unmistakable aroma of stale sex and soft drugs still clinging to her clothes.
“You kept telling me if I didn’t straighten out, I wouldn’t live to see my thirtieth birthday.” Drew laughed, although the sound was hollow. “And now look at us.” Casey felt her plop down on the side of the bed. “I guess that’s what they mean by ‘irony.’ “She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly through her mouth. “God, I really can’t bear to look at you.”
I’m so sorry you have to see me this way, Casey thought, recalling her sister’s aversion to anything even vaguely unpleasant.
“Not that you look so awful. You don’t. You actually look pretty good for a member of the undead. Your color’s great, the bruises are gone, and the doctors stitched you up pretty good. Look, Casey,” Drew said angrily. “Enough is enough. You’ve made your point. I’m a total fuckup who can’t manage without you. I get it. Now snap out of this ridiculous coma and come back to us. Come on. I know you’re in there.”
Do you? Do you really?
“You have to wake up. It’s not fair. What you’re doing just isn’t right. And don’t give me this bullshit about not having any choice in the matter, because how many times have you told me that we always have a choice? So don’t tell me you can’t … what was it you once said? ‘Start effecting some positive changes’? Yeah, that’s it. So, start effecting. I need you to get better. And I need you to get better by Friday because I’ve written a bunch of checks, and they’re going to start bouncing all over town if you don’t wake up and transfer some money—which is rightfully mine anyway, in case you’ve
“Mommy!” a little voice called out, excited footsteps dashing into the room.
“Oh, God. Get her out of here. No. Go on. I thought you were taking her for ice cream,” Drew said all in one breath.
“She had ice cream,” a male voice protested.
“Then get her some more.”
“What’s the matter with Auntie Casey?” the little girl asked. “Is she sleeping?”
“She’s not feeling well,” Drew answered impatiently.
“Is she sick?”
“She was in a car accident,” Warren explained.
“Will she be okay?”
“I hope so. We’re keeping our fingers crossed.”
“Can I cross mine, too?”
“I think that would be very helpful.”
“Good. See, Mommy? My fingers are crossed.”
“Great,” Drew said. “Now, Sean, if you don’t mind. A hospital room is no place for a child.”
“I can read to her, Mommy.”
“Maybe some other time. Sean …”
“Okay, okay. Come on, Lola. You can have that piece of cake you had your eye on.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Sean, for God’s sake—”
“You know what?” Warren interrupted. “I think they have a kids’ playroom downstairs. Would you like to see it?”
“Can I, Mommy?”
“By all means.”
“How about I show you where it is?” Warren said.
“I’m sure Sean can manage on his own,” Drew told him. “There are still some things we need to discuss.”
“I think we’ve discussed enough for one afternoon.”
Casey could tell from the way Warren’s voice was receding that he was already at the door.
“You can go, too, Sean,” Drew said dismissively. “Warren, I’ll wait here till you get back.”
“Suit yourself.”
The door closed, leaving Casey alone with her sister. “I always do,” Drew said.
EIGHT
“S o, here we are again,” Drew continued, as Casey pictured her sister walking over to the window. “Just like old times. Except in those days, I was the one pretty much in a coma, and you were the one pacing back and forth, trying to figure out what to do with me.”
True enough, Casey thought, her mind racing back through all the years they’d shared the same house, the nights she’d spent waiting anxiously for her sister to come home, the days she’d spent watching her sleeping off a drunken bender, the unmistakable aroma of stale sex and soft drugs still clinging to her clothes.
“You kept telling me if I didn’t straighten out, I wouldn’t live to see my thirtieth birthday.” Drew laughed, although the sound was hollow. “And now look at us.” Casey felt her plop down on the side of the bed. “I guess that’s what they mean by ‘irony.’ “She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly through her mouth. “God, I really can’t bear to look at you.”
I’m so sorry you have to see me this way, Casey thought, recalling her sister’s aversion to anything even vaguely unpleasant.
“Not that you look so awful. You don’t. You actually look pretty good for a member of the undead. Your color’s great, the bruises are gone, and the doctors stitched you up pretty good. Look, Casey,” Drew said angrily. “Enough is enough. You’ve made your point. I’m a total fuckup who can’t manage without you. I get it. Now snap out of this ridiculous coma and come back to us. Come on. I know you’re in there.”
Do you? Do you really?
“You have to wake up. It’s not fair. What you’re doing just isn’t right. And don’t give me this bullshit about not having any choice in the matter, because how many times have you told me that we always have a choice? So don’t tell me you can’t … what was it you once said? ‘Start effecting some positive changes’? Yeah, that’s it. So, start effecting. I need you to get better. And I need you to get better by Friday because I’ve written a bunch of checks, and they’re going to start bouncing all over town if you don’t wake up and transfer some money—which is rightfully mine anyway, in case you’ve
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