Page 4 of We Own Tonight
Stephanie: Yes,Mother.
Brat.
Me: Have you had any moretremors?
My sister suffers from Huntington’s disease. She was diagnosed at nineteen, and it took her independence before she even had time to enjoy it. I tried to care for her. I did everything I could to keep her with me, but when she started suffering from relapsing paralysis and struggling to speak, we knew it was beyond mycapability.
Watching your twenty-six-year-old sister battle with early onset dementia is devastating. The last few weeks have been good, though. She’s been cognitive, alert, and even happy. Her symptoms are sometimes so mild that I forget how sick she is, but then the disease rears its ugly face again and there’s noforgetting.
Stephanie: Nope. And aren’t you out with the girls? Go have some fun, Heather. Tell them I saidhi!
“Is Steph okay?” Nicole asks when she sees me typingaway.
“She’s fine. I mean, you know . . .” My mood drops immediately as I think about how she’ll never experience this. Danielle touches my arm, and I force myself to smile. “She sayshi.”
“Give her our love,” Kristin replies. I type out their message and tell her I love her before tucking my phone awayagain.
“Okay!” Nicole exclaims. “Let’s go see these amazing seats that our super-fan Kristin scoredus.”
Kristin gives Nic the stink eye, which would be way more effective if she weren’t in their fan club. Yup, my thirty-eight-year-old best friend is in a fan club for Four Blocks Down. I’m positive she regretted telling us this piece of information, but it landed us front row seats, so we haven’t been too hard on her . . .yet.
“You can sit in the nose bleeds if youwant.”
Nicole wraps her arm around her shoulder. “You love me too much to deprive me of Randy.” She lets out a dreamysigh.
I laugh. “As if you’ll ever get that close to him. And he’smarried!”
I try to put Stephanie in the back of my mind. My sister’s illness is ripping me apart. I wish I could help her, but I can’t control any of it. It makes me feel helpless all thetime.
Stephanie grew up listening to me blare the music and dance around like a loon, and instead, she’s stuck in a damn assisted living facility while I’m out. It isn’t fair. None of this is fair. She should be here withme.
“Hey,” Danni nudges me. “You lookbeautiful.”
I give her a small smile. “Thanks.” I’m no longer feeling carefree. I can’t stop thinking about how much I wish I could be doing this withher.
“I’m sorry.” Her smile fallsslightly.
“Forwhat?”
She shrugs. “I made reality come crashing into our big fun night of noworries.”
“Stop! Don’t feel that way.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder. “My reality never leaves me. My sister is dying. It’s just the way itis.”
Danielle’s smile falls completely now. “I’m so, so sorry,Heather.”
I know she didn’t mean to bring me down. I wish I could be more like Nicole. No responsibilities, sex with random strangers, nothing to worry about . . . but that isn’t how my lifegoes.
Nope. Mine is a series of tragedies. While my friends were partying in college, I was working full time. My nights and weekends weren’t filled with formals or trips to the beach, they were consumed by doing homework with Steph. I’m not bitter. I’m actually grateful in some ways. It forced me to cherish life and the people in it. Every day I have with Stephanie is agift.
I shake my head. “You have nothing to apologize for. Let’s act like idiots and pretend there are no problems in theworld.”
“You want to party like it’s1999?”
“Yeah, just like that. If only we had our Four Blocks Downdolls.”
“They are collectable memorabilia,” Kristin corrects before blushing scarlet and mumbling about needing to go find our seats. Nicole, Danielle, and I laugh hysterically as we follow herinside.
I wave to two of the guys in my squad, who are apparently working overtime detail as security as we pass them. Shit. I didn’t even think anyone from my squad would be here. Usually, it’s the other district that handles the MidFlorida Amphitheater. They look thrilled to be here—not. I make a note to behave so my entire department doesn’t find out that I came to see my favorite boy band. However, knowing them, they’ve already texted everyone. I swear, cops are worse than teenage girls with theirgossip.
