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The abominable life sized cardboard campaign ad my father insisted on parking in the middle of the lawn tempts me to commit vandalism. In theory, there are rules in this highly exclusive, gated enclave of West Emerald. No tacky political signs allowed. Typical that an exception would be made for my father.
I’m not really out here to fret over the sign. No, I’m taking a casual look down the street, thirsting for the unlikely sight of Micah visiting his old house.
Pathetic?
Probably. It’s not as if I don’t know where to find him. Sooner or later we’ll run into each other.
I just have no clue what to expect when we do.
When Conner called on Wednesday, something didn’t occur to me until after we were finished talking. Even though he and Micah are joined at the hip, I never worried that Conner would have heard about my dirty deeds with his rowdy cousin.
Micah promised that secret would stay safe. Micah keeps his word. As unpredictable as he is, I never doubted him on that point.
From here, there’s nothing to see at Matilda’s house. Micah’s old house.
Feeling foolish, I march back inside to get my purse and keys. There’s something I want to do before trudging downtown to the stupid campaign headquarters.
Chapter6
Tess
Next year it will be a full decade. Ten years since Lita Marchenko suffered a blood clot in her brain and slipped into a coma.
We all tell ourselves that there’s still some hope she’ll emerge from her vegetative state.
We are also aware that hope grows fainter each year.
The front desk nurse at the long term care facility knows me by sight. She smiles in the midst of her phone conversation and pushes a visitor’s badge across the counter.
During my years at West Emerald Prep, I was elected to every student government position I ever sought and graduated near the top of my class. But I had few close friends.
Lita, however, was a friend. A good one.
It hurts to remember how she was; hilarious and fearless and beautiful and radiant. Suspended now like a dragonfly in amber inside of a body that breathes but with a mind that lies dormant.
She’s alone in her room, blinking occasionally at a mounted television she doesn’t really see, her thick blonde hair cut to chin length, her long-fingered hands curled idly in her lap. I know there’s no certainty about what she can hear in this constant dream trance. Our one-sided conversations have been countless.
As I slide a narrow futon closer to her recliner, I hope she’s not screaming silently inside her head at the first hint of my voice. I do tend to ramble on during my visits.
The television is often tuned to musicals and today playsThe Sound of Music. Maria travels from the abbey with her guitar and proudly sings about having confidence in sunshine.
“How have you been?” This is my habit, to ask questions as if she can answer them.
Lita blinks, her heavy lidded eyes fixed to a bare spot on the wall. Back when Lita was still Lita, she hardly sat still, a beacon of vitality and endless quippy comments that none could rival.
A few weeks back, Dani and I sat in a downtown French café while Bree Lambeau dabbed tears from her eyes. Our friend’s news wasn’t sad, not sad at all. She’d fallen in love and planned to move in with her girlfriend. After so many years mourning the loss of her Lita and drifting aimlessly through relationships, unable to commit, she’d found a way to move on at last. Dani, always wiser than me in matters of the heart, hugged our friend and said, “Life is meant to be lived.”
True. No matter who is gone and how. For those of us left behind, life is meant to be lived.
Whether Lita can hear me or not, Bree’s news isn’t mine to share. Instead, I babble about the upcoming election and Conner’s football season and Dani’s charity organization and how the weather has finally turned cool enough to wear a cardigan .
“Oh, and I had sex with Micah. You’re shocked, huh? I probably should have warned you before blurting that out. No one else knows. Dani doesn’t even know. But it really happened. We had sex in his apartment and it was the hair-on-fire, can’t catch your breath variety that I always thought people were exaggerating about. I’m kind of amazed to find out it’s real.”
A wheeze of laughter enters the room.
I flinch and shut my eyes. “Haven just heard every word I said, didn’t she?”
The throaty voice is filled with amusement. “Lucky for you, Haven isn’t too analytical when it comes to fucking.”
