“What?” I ask. “That’swhy you had to see me?”
“Yes,” she continues brightly. “I thought it might be possible to have another vacation like that. As family. Here in Palm Springs.”
She will never be honest with me.
I look at Ron. He is giving me thatbe nice!look.
Who am I to judge? I mean, I’m not being honest with him either. I’m no better than my sister when you get down to it.
And I do need the money. For medical bills. Maybe even to pay it forward when I’m gone, help those who have helped me so much. That would be nice, to leave it to my family when I’m gone. I smile at Ron.
“You can stay the week,” I say. “Just stay out of my way.” I pat Ron’s back. “She’s your responsibility until Friday.”
I take my mug and walk out of the kitchen.
“Teddy—” Trudy calls after me.
“One week!” I yell. “Keep her busy and out of my hair. Maybe get a new ’do, Trudy. You wanted her here, Ron, you got it. You two can be bosom buddies. Read the Bible together. Talk about how to fix me. But leave me out of it. I already have enough problems.”
I head down the hallway.
“And don’t you dare fuck with my happy hours!” I call. “They’re supposed to be happy!”
“Are you okay? I think you were having a nightmare.”
I rise slowly, my head throbbing.
There is nothing worse than sobering up the same day you got drunk.
I went for drinks at Streetbar after work. I couldn’t have a happy hour—much less a magical minute—with my sister watching me down a martini.
Someone is talking, but I see only darkness, and at first I think I have gone blind. Then I reach a hand to my eyes and pull off my sleeping mask.
As the world fuzzily comes into focus, I see two black ravens perched on the breeze block wall that separates our yard from the surrounding mountains. They are staring, heads cocked, peering into my soul.
My thumping headache makes the birds look as if they are in 3D, chests pumping to the heartbeat in my temples.
I should not have asked Mario for doubles.
I blink.
When I open my eyes again, I realize that there is only one raven on the breeze block. Ava is seated on the white Herman Miller Eames molded chair Ron has placed by the sliding door, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders.
“Iwashaving a nightmare,” I groan. “And it’s real: You and your grandmother are staying all week.”
Ava laughs.
“What are you doing in my bedroom?” I ask.
I am too tired to sit up.
“I heard you crying as I was heading to the pool,” Ava says, shifting her tiny body to perch on the edge of the tiny chair. “Was it about John?”
Talking about John made me want to drink to forget about him, but it only made me dream of him, miss him, call out for him.
I sit up in bed and comb my hair with my fingers.
Reclaim your attitude, Teddy.
