The Washington Lawyer by Allan Topol

He had never been bitter. He was proud he had served his country.
    After fifteen minutes, she left his room and wandered around upstairs. The door to Mother’s room was closed. She stepped into Vanessa’s, sobbing for what she’d lost, looking at the stuffed bunnies and Barbie dolls, gazing at the framed photos of Vanessa from Vogue, Bazaar , and Elle .
    She cried, and she cried more.
    When she was finished, she crossed to her own room, still cluttered with college leftovers and copies of some of her articles. She had taken all the athletic trophies with her when she moved to Providence. Downstairs she found Mother sitting on the sofa sipping vodka on ice in a water tumbler looking through a family photograph album. I have to try to get along with her, Allison told herself.
    But sitting down next to her, looking at the old pictures did little to soothe Allison. On the left she saw Vanessa being crowned Miss Teen Ohio as a gold tiara was placed on her blond head. The whole family was standing next to her. On the right, Allison receiving a national honor society award with only Dad and Vanessa in that one.
    They were always so close. Twins. How can anyone who isn’t one understand it?
    She remembered the two of them infuriating Mother by talking in an imaginary language, calling each other Alley and Van instead of “the beautiful names” she had given them.
    The phone rang. It was Sara Gross, the school friend, now a doctor, whom she had called from the Israeli airport. “I’d like to come by and talk to you. When’s a good time?”
    â€œAs soon as you can.”
    Thirty minutes later, Allison opened the door for Sara. She was wearing a white doctor’s coat, her stringy brown hair hanging loose, her tortoiseshell glasses pushed up on her hair. She hugged Allison, then turned to the twins’ mother, who put down the album and stood. Sara tried to hug her, but she pulled away.
    â€œI’m so sorry, Mrs. Boyd.”
    She began crying again.
    â€œLet’s go outside,” Allison said.
    The rain had stopped. They walked to High Street, Allison noticing students, some rushing to class, loaded down with book bags. Others were hanging out on the corners, or going into a bookstore. As they walked along the sidewalk Allison said, “Listen, I really appreciate your help.”
    â€œC’mon. I owe you big time for teaching me how to dribble and shoot baskets. Without your help, I would never have made the team.”
    â€œNaw, you just needed more self-confidence. That’s key in sports.”
    â€œBefore we talk about your sister, how about you? You look exhausted. This is an incredibly tough experience. I want to prescribe something, to make it easier for you?”
    â€œYou mean drugs? Tranquilizers?”
    â€œJust to help you through the next couple of days.”
    â€œSara, you always accused me of being a health nut, and I haven’t changed. I never take any medicine unless absolutely necessary.”
    â€œWhat about talking to your minister?”
    â€œPhil Barnes is a moron.”
    â€œI could put you in touch with a counselor at the hospital.”
    Allison ran a hand through her hair. “How could a counselor help? With all the grief I feel? But don’t worry. I’m tough, I’ll survive.”
    â€œSpeaking of which, how’s the leg?
    â€œIt hardly hurts at all. Those Olympics seem like so long ago.”
    â€œYou were great.”
    Sara sighed.
    Allison was eager to talk about Vanessa “So tell me what you found.”
    â€œWell, for starters, your mother wouldn’t permit an autopsy. That limited my options. Still, I did what I could.”
    They were passing Ozzie’s Restaurant. “Let’s go inside,” Sara said.
    At eleven thirty, the place was only half filled, mostly with students, loud and raucous. Two women with babies in strollers in a corner. Sara led Allison to a table near the women.