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“I’m not letting you get away with this,” I threaten.
Kate steps up to me, air kisses my cheek, then wiggles her fingers in a wave. “Great. Try to stop me; that’d be fun. We could wrestle in the driveway, like old times.”
She’s not even joking. She would fight me.
She might win, too. I know my sister, and she fights dirty. Pulls hair, scratches, the whole bit.
She goes on. “A few things before I go. First of all, Zoey has major separation anxiety, so she’s going to need a lot of cuddles while I’m gone. I mean that, Brock. A lot of attention, whenever she asks for it. And Mr. Brown has difficulty controlling his bladder. Like I said, he’s up there in years. Fifteen.”
She reaches the door and pulls it open. “Be patient with him, ‘kay? Don’t yell at him when he piddles inside. He’s old and deserves kindness. Also, they both need at least an hour of outside time each day or else they’ll drive you nuts, barking and asking to go out. Believe me—been there. When it rains, I try to sneak in a day off, and oh, boy, do they let me know it’s not gonna fly. Somewhere fenced-in. I was looking at that big yard of yours out there, and it won’t do. They roam if there’s no fence. Try a dog park or something.”
“I don’t have time?—”
“You’ll have to find time. Take good care of them. I mean it. Bye!” She closes the door firmly behind her.
I walk to it, ready to voice more protests. I don’t know how to take care of dogs. I’ve never owned a dog. I didn’t agree to this. This is a bad idea.
But by the time I open the door and look out into the darkness, she’s already hot-footing it toward her car. Of course, she wouldn’t look back at me if I spoke.
I consider calling out to her anyway, addressing her back, but then again… what’s the point?
She’s in a rush to get to the airport. I’m not about to actually wrestle her. We’re too old for that.
Chaotic, messy Kate.
Will she ever get her life together?
At least she stopped partying like she used to. Mom said she quit drinking for good.
I watch her start her beat-up car and drive off. So, she has a car these days. For a while, she only had a motorcycle. That worried me, given the accident rates with those things.
She’s worried me in many ways over the years.
Her partying, her criminal friends, her unemployment…
And now, she’s pregnant with some loser’s baby.
I watch the lights disappear, a feeling of fear about her future wriggling in my gut.
I can’t control my sister’s life. I’ve learned to focus on what I can control and let go of the things I can’t. Otherwise, I’ll go nuts.
As I close the door to the dark night, a weight starts to settle on my chest.
Worry about her future clouds my mind, but I mentally fight off the cobwebs and try to think about action steps instead.
What can I do right now to get through the situation at hand? What is within my sphere of influence?
The dogs.
I work too much. I won’t be able to give them the attention they need.
I pull out my cell and dial my mother.
“Mom? You got a minute?”
“Sure, sweetheart. I’m guessing by that panic in your voice that your sister’s been by.”
The pale dog, Zoey, must have heard Kate’s car drive off because now she’s at the door, scratching at it with one paw. She whines, then barks a few times.
