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“Mr. Winters’ orders, miss. He has a thing about distracted driving.” Vinnie shuts the door, enclosing me inside the cool car, and I open the mysterious brown paper bag, peeking inside. An avocado. Of course. I pull out the green skinned fruit, kissing it absently. Only Roman would do something so ridiculous and meaningful. I dig in my purse to text him.
Thank you.
Roman: For?
Everything. But mostly the little things.
Roman: Nothing I do is little, Hollywood. : - )
Ugh, this man…if distance made the heart grow fonder, then this simple gesture is dangerous to my state of mind while missing him. Thoughts of Roman manage to fuel me through the rest of my morning and the meeting with my dad, the partners, and Lucas.
At one, I slip out of the office and find Vinnie patiently waiting for me while reading a paper. “Where to, Ms. Holliday?” He holds the door open and I wonder how much Roman is spending on this when I get into the backseat of the car.
“My sister’s place, over on Baxter and Sixth.” Vinnie plugs the address into the car’s GPS system and pulls away from the curb. Lucas is hurrying from the building toward the car, an angry scowl covering his face.
“Hold on, miss, I don’t want to have to run the stray over.” Vinnie accelerates the car, and with a giggle I can barely suppress, we are on our way to Leah’s place.
“Thanks, Vinnie.” I turn my head back to see Lucas standing on the sidewalk cursing me. Good for him. I’m about cursed out at this point, and with traffic and his car being in the garage, I have some time before he actually follows me to Leah’s. Lucas is definitely a stray something.
“How do you know Roman, Vinnie?” I’m thumbing through files while listening to smooth sounds of jazz filter through the car speakers as he efficiently zips past cars.
“I met him at the marina in Seattle. He gave me a job when I was down on my luck, which is easier than being a longshoreman.” Well, that explains his stocky build. Vinnie obviously works hard. “I moved down here to be closer to my kids. Two of them live with the ex-Mrs.”
“So you were married once?” I can’t imagine Vinnie married, but I also don’t know a lot of people his age or my father’s still married to their original partner. An occupational hazard of lawyering I suppose.
“Yes, she was the best wife. I was blessed she put up with my nonsense for as long as she did before calling it quits. I don’t blame her though. Took me a long time to get my stuff squared away. Roman helped me with that, and I haven’t touched the stuff in years.”
I don’t ask Vinnie ‘what stuff’ he’s referring too. I assume he means drugs or alcohol. Knowing Roman did that for him just adds to how special my sailor really is deep down. “That’s wonderful, Vinnie. Don’t let Roman work you too hard driving me everywhere.” We both chuckle as the car pulls up to my sister’s condo.
“I’ll wait here for you, Ms. Holliday.” The car parks and Vinnie gets out, holding the door open for me. He helps me out and I walk up to Leah’s condo on nervous legs. I check my phone real quick, but find no messages. Knocking on the door, I wait. It feels like I am standing at the precipice and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to improve the situation.
Leah finally stands before me. “Hey, sis.” It’s lame as far as greetings go standing there in her doorway.
“Nice skirt, brat.” Leave it to Leah to find something snarky to break the ice.
“Um, yeah, thanks for the loaner.” I pluck the fabric from my thigh, she sidesteps away from the door, so I follow her in. “Listen, about yesterday, I came over, but—”
“It’s okay. Lucas told me you were here, but I really wasn’t up to guests.” Leah fusses with her coffeemaker and I follow her to the counter. I take in the physical differences from the last time I saw her. Her frailness, which has nothing to do with the latest diet fad, stabs me deep in the core. Her face looks sallow and sunken in. A scarf covers her head and I wonder what the hell went down while I was in Gold Beach. I realize those are questions I’m maybe not entitled to ask right now. It’s one thing to grow up with a sick mother, dying from cancer, but another situation all together as an adult with one’s sister. Guilt is a malingerer I can’t seem to shake.
“Here, let me do it.” Leah tries to get the coffee in the basket but it slips from her hand, spilling on the counter.
“Shit.” Cursing, she slaps her hand on the counter and I gently nudge her out of the way. She pushes me back unexpectedly before grabbing my arm to stop me from leaving. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and all I can do is nod. I’m pretty, sure as sisters go, we both have a lot to be sorry for.
“Leah, it’s just coffee. Let me help you.” Our eyes meet and it feels like a standoff of some sort, as if relinquishing control over something as stupid as coffee is somehow conceding defeat to something much bigger and out of our control.
I clean up the coffee and prepare two mugs. I carry them to the deck and Leah follows me as we sit outside taking in the sunshine and the view from her condo. I trace the rim of my coffee cup, hoping Leah will be the first to break the silence.
“Did Dad tell you?”
I shake my head. I don’t think the man could tell me anything short of what I’m doing wrong. “No, he hasn’t said much.” I clear my throat, afraid to ask the questions I want to know.
“Well, it’s stage III breast cancer,” Leah says, staring straight ahead. I can’t imagine what it’s like to hold that kind of information inside.
“Oh, Leah.” I lean over to grip her hand, but she pulls back in chair as if my touch will make it too real to take in.
“Mom’s cancer was stage II when they found it and we lost her. I’d only found out because I thought I was pregnant.” Leah shrugs and her voice shakes in telling me. “Only I’m not. The tenderness in my breast isn’t from a baby, but a cancerous lesion.” I’m not even upset that she thought she was pregnant. None of those things matter. I don’t want to lose the only other person who is the remaining tie to my mother.
“We’re gonna beat this, Leah. You’re strong and younger than Mom was. They have new treatments available.” My brain starts to organize what has to be done. Lists of things we need to do and questions that should be asked. I don’t know why Leah is just sitting here. We’ve got work to do, but it’s all right because I’m here and I can do it for her.
