Page 29 of How to Walk Away

She nodded again.

“Have you seen Mom?”

She shook her head.

“Are you going to? Before you go back?”

She gave a half-smile. “I’m gathering up my resolve.”

I didn’t know what to say. I really didn’t even know where to start. It was exactly as bizarre to see her as it was not bizarre at all. Of course she was here. She was my big sister. And yet it was like seeing an afterimage come back to life.

“You look better,” she said.

“That’s not what Mom says.”

“She’s kind of a bitch sometimes, though.”

She wasn’t wrong. “True enough,” I said.

“And a liar,” Kitty added.

I frowned. “Not sure aboutthat.”

Kit went for a subject change: “How are you?”

“I’m not sure there are words in the world that can answer that question.”

She shrugged, like,Fair enough, and tried a new angle. “How do you feel?”

“Physically? Or emotionally?”

“Either. Both.”

But I didn’t want to share any of that with her. Talking about things that tender required a closeness she had forfeited a long time ago. “What’s with the suitcase?” I asked.

“I was thinking I might come stay here in the evenings. With you. You know: when Mom’s not around.”

I eyed the recliner chair. It was supposed to flatten into a bed, but I couldn’t imagine how.

I shook my head. “No.”

“No what?”

“No, you shouldn’t stay here.”

“Don’t you want company?”

“Not yours.”

She frowned a little. “Are you mad at me?”

I looked away. “It’s just weird to see you. My life is weird enough right now.”

“I want to help.”

“Yeah, but you’re not helping. You’re making things worse.”

She didn’t answer. It was clear that hadn’t occurred to her.

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