Page 53 of Every Sweet Thing Is Bitter

I won’t let this be the end.

“Box Butte Fire Department.”

I strip Harmony’s bed as I talk. I have too much latent energy in my body to sit still. “Hi, this is—I’m looking for my sister’s fiancé. I think he works with your fire department.”

“Name?”

“My sister is Harmony Byrd.”

“You’re looking for Cal?”

“Sure.”

“Hang on a minute.”

We have very different definitions of how long a minute is. By the time someone returns to the phone, I’ve chewed flecks of skin from four of my knuckles. I wipe the blood on my bare thighs. “You’re calling about Harmony?”

“I am.”

“Which sister are you?”

“The one who tried to kill our mother.”

“Hmm. Heard about you.”

I lower myself onto the bed again. “Listen, I’m just calling because I’m worried about Harmony. I don’t think she’s been taking her medication, and I wanted to see if—”

“Hey, hold on a second.For God’s sake, Mark, I’m on the phone!Sorry, go on.”

“Does she do this a lot? Stop taking her meds?”

Cal’s sigh hangs in the air like a storm cloud saturated with rain. “I see she hasn’t told you. I … Harmony and I aren’t together anymore. Haven’t been for six months or so.”

“She still wears her ring.”

“It was my mother’s and she won’t give it back.”

“Sounds like her.”

“All due respect, miss, your sister has some real problems. I hope she gets the help she needs, but until then, I don’t want nothing to do with her.”

“Did she ever talk about our mother?” I ask.

“I don’t really want—”

“She’s in trouble. I’m trying to help her, and I don’t have a lot of options. Believe me, I was mortified to even call you.”

My admission of vulnerability is enough for him to let his guard down, just a little. The background noise on his end of the line ebbs and flows. “Mostly she talked about your dad. Your mom came up once in a blue moon. Good things, usually. Only thing I really remember is whenever she was working, she’d make a point to send money to your mom every month. Then, of course, she’d inevitably screw up whatever job she was at after a few months and whine about not having any savings, eventually find a new job, cycle would repeat. She was terrible with money. Blew hundreds of bucks on cigarettes every month. I tried giving her a vape to save her some cash and she threw it away, said it wasn’t the same thing. Stubborn. The only person she ever paid reliably was your mom.”

“Did she always do that when you were together?”

“All three years.”

“Long time to be with someone you said hasreal problems.”

“I did love your sister,” Cal says. “When she was good, she was good. Nobody’s ever made me laugh like Harmony. But she has a lot more bad days than good days. And the meds? She never took ’em regularly.”

“Thanks.”

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