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She listens. There are now grass stains on her dress. The dense ivy covering the fence surrounding our old school is impossible to see through. The school year probably began recently, although the place would still be empty on a Sunday. The only sounds are the calls of nearby quail and the whisper of my sister’s breathing.
She’s never talked about what it was like, that long period in the void. And I would never ask. The question seems too private.
“Mom isn’t coming back,” she says.
“No,” I agree. “She’s not coming back.”
Our mother flew into town right after Lita woke up. She stayed for less than forty-eight hours and was primarily concerned with booking press interviews. She sobbed about her plight as the long suffering mother. She wailed about her joy over Lita’s awakening. But when she did actually show up to visit Lita she was impatient, annoyed that Lita couldn’t instantly return to being a carefree, happy schoolgirl. She complained that Lita just needs to try harder because ‘nobody likes a goddamn basket case’ and then Lita burst into tears. That was about all I could take. I escorted my mother from the room and ordered her not to return unless she grew a few ounces of compassion. She got on the next flight and hasn’t called since.
“What about Dad?” Lita asks. “Did he talk about me often?”
I won’t lie to her. But I don’t have the heart to share the complete truth either. “You know how Dad is. Always busy with seventy different things at once and never a model of parental affection. He always made sure you had the best of care.”
“How come we can’t go visit him?”
I don’t have a clear answer on why Aric Marchenko’s visitation privileges remain suspended. The lawyer, who sounds like he just finished eating some adrenaline pills every time I call, gives some rapid fire answer about prison rules and politics. The few times my father has been allowed to take a phone call he’s guarded, cautious. Doesn’t have much to say. He sounds nothing like the east side crime king whose shadow makes men cower in fear.
My father and I haven’t spoken about Estes. There are some things that can’t be properly discussed with prison officials listening in.
And I’ve said nothing about Jared and Talon. Same reasons apply, plus I don’t want to give those two pricks a reason to break our unspoken truce. They’ve been staying out of my hair ever since Lita woke up. It’s not hard to figure out why. Her story went internet viral. Everyone wants to hear about the Sleeping Beauty who awakened after more than a decade. I’ve fielded calls from modeling agencies, a Hollywood producer and even some television show host that wanted to drop her in the jungle with a bunch of strangers. I swear, people are fucking vultures. Anyway, I told them where to stick their offers.
Lita looks at me and I realize I never answered her question. “Dad’s lawyer said we should be cleared to visit him soon. After that, he’ll be released before you know it.”
I’m not nearly as optimistic as I sound. Due to the fact that my father did not sign over any legal authority to me, I’ve been largely shut out of anything that’s happening with him.
Lita is still watching me. “You’re different,” she says.
“I’m older,” I reply and then wish I’d said something else. We’re all older. She doesn’t need to be reminded that she missed seeing it happen.
But Lita plays with her hair and grows thoughtful. “I was watching you with Conner today.”
“I know. But I still won’t share the tawdry details.”
“Fine. Be a brat.” She slaps my leg.
In the old days I would have retaliated. She’d hit back. I’d call her a bitch. We’d battle each other with kicks and scratches and punches galore. Our epic brawls toppled furniture and carved holes into walls.
To me, those times were so long ago they might as well have happened in another life. But to her, not so much.
Lita plucks at the fabric of her dress. “When I saw you together I was thinking about the night of the party. I knew how you felt about him. God, I was so pissed at him after he treated you like you were just some lousy one night hookup.”
“Trust me, Conner didn’t do anything to me at that party that I didn’t ask him to do.”
She shrugs. “I don’t care. He broke your heart so he got to be on my shit list.”
“Well, now I’ve brokenhisheart so you can take him off the list.” That was more than I meant to spill. I hug my knees to my chest, fighting the sudden threat of tears. I know what Lita would say if I told her why. She’d say I’m an idiot for failing to run into his arms today.
She’d be right.
My twin leans against me, touches the side of her head to mine. We must have started out in life this way, reaching out to each other for comfort, even before either of us even knew who we were.
“Do you know what I’d like to do now?” she says.
“What?”
“Go see our little brother. Can we?”
Lita and Robert have been quick to form a special bond. Vito, who has stuck by his promise to guard the kid with his life, brings Robert around often.
