And yet, as I sat beside her, I found her as beautiful as ever.
“Emily came by yesterday,” she said, the words emerging slowly, and with effort. “I like her so much, Russ. And she truly cares about you. You need to call her,” she said with a pointed look. “You have to talk to her, let her know what’s going on with you. She’s worried about you.”
“Why did she come by?”
“Because I asked to see her. I wanted to spend some time with the woman my brother loves. The new-and-improved model, I mean.” She forced a weak smile. “That’s what I called her. I think she was pleased.”
I smiled. Despite her decline, Marge was still Marge.
She gathered her strength for a moment, and went on. “I think it’s time that I talk to London, too.”
“When?’
“Can you bring her by this weekend?”
“She won’t be here. She’ll be in Atlanta with Vivian.”
“Then how about after school today?”
My sister, in her own way, was telling me that time was running out.
I was suddenly unable to swallow. “All right,” I whispered.
“I want to see Vivian, too. Can you set that up?”
My stomach tightened at the name and I looked away. Still furious and mortified, I could barely tolerate the thought of Vivian, let alone the idea of asking her to visit my dying sister. Marge saw my expression but pressed on.
“I need you to do this for me,” she said. “Please.”
“I’ll text her,” I said, “but I don’t know whether she’ll come. She’s usually on a tight schedule.”
“See what she says,” Marge pressed. She blinked, and I noticed that even her lids were slowing down. “Tell her it’s important to me.”
I reached for my phone and texted Vivian; she responded almost instantly. Of course, the text said. Tell Marge I’ll be there around five.
I let Marge know and watched as she closed her eyes. I thought she was about to fall asleep before she opened them again.
“Have you accepted the offer on your house yet?”
I shook my head. “We’re still going back and forth on the price a bit.”
“That’s taking a long time.”
“The potential buyers have been traveling. According to my Realtor, we’re close, though. She’s thinking we’ll sign next week.”
“That’s good, right? So you’ll be able to pay off Vivian?”
Again, the sound of her name made me recoil. “I guess.”
Marge stared at me. “Do you want to tell me what happened? Emily said that you were gone all day Wednesday but wouldn’t talk to her about it.”
Rising from the couch, I peeked out the window, to make sure my mom wasn’t pulling into the drive. I didn’t want her to hear what was going on; the last thing she needed was even more stress in her life. Taking a seat again, I brought my hands together and told her about the meeting with Taglieri and the letter that Vivian’s attorney had sent.
“Well,” Marge said when I finished. “This isn’t completely unexpected. She’s been very clear all along that she intends to bring London to Atlanta.”
“But… the threat. She’s playing so… dirty.”
“What does your attorney say?”
“That he doesn’t like my chances. And that he still thinks Vivian and I should work something out between us.”
Marge was silent for a moment, but her gaze was almost feverish in its intensity. “First, you have to know what you really want.”
I frowned. “Why do you keep saying that? We’ve talked about this already. I’ve told you what I want.”
“Then do what you have to do.”
“You mean go to court? Play dirty, like she is?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think that would be good for London. And London is your priority.”
“Then what are you suggesting?”
“I think you know,” she said, closing her eyes again.
And as I studied her weary face, it finally dawned on me that I actually did.
On the way back from Marge’s, I called Emily, asking if we could meet for lunch. She agreed, and we arranged to meet at a bistro not far from her home.
“First, I want to apologize for not telling you what was going on,” I said as soon as we sat down. “To be honest, I didn’t even know how to begin.”
“It’s okay, Russ,” she said. “Sometimes we all need to process things on our own first. Don’t ever feel pressured by me – I’m here whenever you feel ready to talk. Or even if you don’t.”
“No, I’m ready now,” I said, touching her hand. Taking a deep breath, I told her everything – about London’s distress, my instructions to Taglieri, and Vivian’s response. As I spoke, she brought her hands to her mouth.
“I can’t imagine how you must have been feeling,” she said when I finished. “I would have been… shell-shocked. And completely, utterly furious.”
“I was. I still am,” I admitted. “For the first time, I feel like I actually hate her.”
“With good reason,” she said. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea to let the psychologist talk to London. You’ll probably be able to put these crazy allegations to rest right off the bat.”
“There’s still the issue of the bicycle accident.”
“Kids have accidents, Russ. That’s why the law requires them to wear bicycle helmets. Judges know that.”