Just Like Fate (2 page)

Simone’s quiet; I know she doesn’t understand. She’s
never experienced anything like what I’m going through. I
think of reconsidering—it’s just one night—but once the decision’s made, my shoulders loosen. Even though Gram seems
the same, and as much as I don’t want to be anywhere near
Natalie, there’s no way I’m leaving tonight.

“Fine,” Simone says. “But don’t come crying to me
Argentina when you’re the only one without a superhot college boyfriend tomorrow.”

“Promise,” I say with a forced laugh.
The guy I like is our
age anyway.
“Call you later?”
“You’d better,” Simone says. “I’m sure I’ll have all sorts
of scandalous gossip. You know how Gwen and Felicity are
when they’re around older guys.”
“Total Lolita-land,” I say, laughing for real. “Remember
the time with the water bra?” Simone snorts, which makes me
laugh harder. When we stop, she surprises me with sincerity.
“Take care of yourself, Linus,” she says quietly. “We all know
how much you love Gram—just remember to love
you
too.”
“I will,” I say, forcing the words past the lump in my
throat. “I’ll try.”
As I hang up the phone, the light in the hall returns—the
fluorescent bulbs and white walls are all their normal boring
color again.
I walk back to Gram’s room. A nurse is checking her
vitals while Natalie’s sitting awkwardly on the very front of the
recliner near the window, like she doesn’t want to risk getting
too comfortable. It occurs to me that it’s like a metaphor for
her entire life.
“Is your mother coming back soon?” the nurse asks in a
clipped tone that makes me nervous.
“Yes,” Natalie answers. “She just went out for some air.
I can call her?” Nat looks at me, and I see the anxiousness in
her eyes, too.
“I think that’d be a good idea,” the nurse says. “Just in
case your grandmother wakes up.”
In case she wakes up?
Before I have time to ask about the alternative—Gram
not
waking up—the nurse briskly leaves the room.
Panicked, I turn to Natalie. I don’t know how or why, but I
see my sister in that moment—really
see
her. She’s got a tough
outer shell, but she’s loyal to those she loves. And one of the
people she loves the most is dying. We are the same, she and I.
For the first time in a long while, I go and sit next to her.
“I don’t want to fight,” I say quietly. My mouth is dry, and
I’m actually nervous to be having this conversation. It strikes
me as strange—after all, she’s my
sister
. “I don’t think I can
fight anymore.”
Natalie’s surprised eyes find mine, but she doesn’t say
anything. I continue. “Gram’s been there for me, but I’m starting to realize that she won’t always be. And I’m scared.” My
face stings with the start of a cry, and I turn to find Natalie
watching me with a softened expression.
“I don’t want to fight either,” she says. “I’m sorry, Caroline. I really am.” She’s never told me she was sorry. Never. I let
the words linger in the air to unravel the hurt they’ve caused
all this time. I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear them.
“I don’t know how we got so . . . ,” I begin, not sure what
word to use.
“It was my fault,” Nat says.
“But I made it worse,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m sorry.”
Natalie shifts uncomfortably. She’s never been good at letting people in. For a while, I thought that if only Nat had my
back a bit more, I might’ve stayed at home after the divorce.
But that’s just not her . . . not since we were little anyway.
Under normal circumstances—like if this were Teddy or
Simone or even Mom—I’d reach out for a hug. Instead I keep
my hands folded in my lap.
Gram is dying. I close my eyes for a moment, wishing
it weren’t true, but when I open them again, there she is—
motionless on the bed.
Slipping away.

“Simone,” I start, my decision made. “I’m going to . . . go. I’ll
go with you to the party, but only because I can’t stand another
minute with my sister. I swear she waits for me to screw up just
so she can throw it back in my face.”

“If Natalie’s going to be a jerk all night,” Simone says,
“you shouldn’t have to deal with it.”
I nod, thinking about how many times my sister has belittled me, made me feel like I’m not a part of my own family.
“And really,” Simone adds, “if she’s going to complain
anyway, why not give her something good to work with?” I
can hear the smile in her voice, challenging and protective as a
best friend should be. As a sister should be.
“Yeah,” I say, looking back toward the room. “Why not.” I
lean against the wall and exhale. “Hey, would you mind picking me up?” I ask. “That way when you drop me off tonight,
I can stop in and say good-bye—
good night
to Gram.” I pause,
thinking how different the word “good-bye” is now. How
much heavier it is in my mouth.
“Simone?” I ask hesitantly. “Gram will be okay if I leave,
right?”
“Of course she will be. It’s just a few hours.”
A feeling of dread comes over me, but the light in the hall
returns—the fluorescent bulbs and white walls are all their
normal boring color again. In a way, it allows me to push away
my concern and realize that Simone’s right—it’s just one night
out of all the nights I’ve been by my grandmother’s side. If
she were awake, she would probably tell me to go to the party.
She’d tell me to wear lipstick, too. And a night away from
Natalie can never be a bad thing.
“I’m on my way,” Simone says. “We’ll grab burgers or
something first.”
I agree, but when we hang up, nervousness creeps up my
arms. I’m not a fan of confrontation, and this looming one
with my sister is going to be a blowout.
The nurse is just leaving Gram’s room when I get back.
I see Natalie hovering near the window, back straight, mouth
downturned. I cross my arms over my chest, feeling the rift
between my sister and me growing. I wonder if eventually it’ll
get big enough to end our relationship altogether.
The minute I step into the room, her judging eyes find
me. “Where’d you go?” she asks. “I just got done talking to
Mom.”
“I was busy,” I say, reaching for Gram’s hand. Her skin
is thin and pale, her lips slightly parted in unconsciousness.
As I hold her, I have the fleeting thought that this is it. I want
to tell my grandmother everything I’m thinking and feeling. I
want to tell her that I love her. Absently I bring her palm to my
cheek, imagining that she’s awake, saying how much she loves
me, too. When tears flood my eyes, I sniffle and set Gram’s
hand back down.
It’s only a few hours,
I tell myself.
And maybe
then Natalie will be gone and I can hang with Gram—just the
two of us, like it’s supposed to be.
“I’m going out,” I say to my sister, not looking in her
direction. “Tell Mom I’ll be home after eleven.”
“What? You can’t just . . .” She jumps up from the chair.
“You’re so goddamn selfish, Caroline,” she says. “Do you
think you can just do whatever you want? You have an obligation to this family. You—”
“Oh, shut up!” I call out, my voice carrying through the
sparse room. “You’re not my mother—you’re certainly not
Gram. Maybe if you had your own life, you wouldn’t—”
“Don’t you dare!” she shouts. “I’ve been the one to hold
this family together. I’m the one who makes sure Mom eats her
dinner when she can’t stop crying.” My sister puts her hand
over her mouth as if she’s afraid she might betray an actual
emotion other than bitch. After a second, she shakes her head.
“You know what, go. Go, you coward.”
I’m shaking I’m so angry, so hurt. I can’t even think of
something to say, can only grab my backpack and race out of
there. I’m halfway down the hall when I realize I didn’t tell
Gram that I love her, didn’t kiss her cheek good night. But I
can’t face my sister, so I vow to tell Gram twice later.

I’m still with my sister, staring at the muted news on TV as
an awkward, post-apology silence fills the space between us.
Mom and Albert return to the room, but my mother looks
like a piece of ripped paper that someone hastily taped back
together. She’s got that shiny redness to her face that happens
when you cry off your makeup, and her hair’s fluffy-weird like
she combed out what had been hair sprayed before. Seconds
later as if it were choreographed, Teddy walks in with two
greasy bags from Burger Barn.

We dive on him like a pack of wild dogs, and just as Nat
takes the biggest bite in history, Aunt Claudia breezes in wearing all black with a hot pink pashmina on top. Her bracelets
and necklaces clink and clank, even at her slightest movements.

My mother immediately tenses. Aunt Claudia is her older
sister. She’s a manless, kidless career woman who lives by
business books. She frowns whenever she looks at me like I’m
the visual representation of my mother’s bad choices in life.

Natalie idolizes her.
“Hi, Aunt Claudia!” Nat says, mouth full.
“Hello, darling,” Claudia says, managing to side hug

Natalie while still staying far enough away not to get smeared
with mustard or calories. She turns to my mother. “Diane,”
she says. “You’re looking . . .” Her voice trails off; she doesn’t
bother to lie.

“Nice of you to join us,” Mom says, her words dripping
with accusation. I watch them, and like earlier with Natalie, I
can
see
them. How my aunt Claudia talks down to my mother.
How my mother lets her.

Aunt Claudia startles me from my thoughts as she appears
in front of me. “You can’t say hello?” she asks with a chilly
smile. Teddy speaks for both of us when he asks how she is.

My aunt doesn’t answer. Instead she turns, like she’s been
waiting to look the entire time, and stares at my grandmother
lying in the bed. My aunt’s proud shoulders sag slightly, her
body seeming to wilt at the sight of her mother dying. But then
she straightens and glides across the room to sit next to her.

“Hi, Ma,” she says softly, touching her arm. We’re all quiet
until I hear my mother sniffle, and then Aunt Claudia looks
over, stoic as usual.

“How long does she have?” she asks. “I’ll need to know
whether to reschedule my flight to Cleveland.”
Mom, who’s never been about anyone but family her
entire life—maybe to a fault—stares at her sister with her
mouth open. Then she shakes her head slowly from side
to side, like she’s about to lose it. I freeze with half-mushed
french fry between my teeth, wondering what’ll happen next.
“You callous—“ my mother starts.
And that’s when Gram speaks.
“Stop fighting,” she says, blinking her eyes open. “I don’t
want those to be the last words I hear.” Her speech reminds
me of Judith’s—babylike.
Gram’s eyelids droop as if it’s a struggle to keep them
open at all. We all jump up as my mother and Aunt Claudia
crowd around her.
I grab Teddy’s arm—relief washes over me.
She woke up.
I nearly start crying when Gram coughs, gritty and thick. My
mother tries to help her sit up, but my grandmother waves her
away.
“It’s my time, Diane,” Gram says. “It’s just my time.”
My brother darts a look at me, his face ghost pale. He
touches my hand where I’m gripping his arm to reassure me.
“It’s the medication,” he says. “She’s out of it.”
“No, I am not, Theodore,” my grandmother says, matterof-fact. Natalie actually takes a step back; she looks like she
might hurl right on the white-tiled floor. “But I’m not going
to sit and waste my last breath when you can’t even get along
at my deathbed.”
“Ma,” Aunt Claudia starts to say, when my grandmother
turns to her. They both pause, an unspoken mother-daughter look passing between them. The tears in Aunt Claudia’s
eyes brim over, and my grandmother reaches to brush her hair
back, the same way she’s done for me a million times.
“Let me talk to the kids,” Gram says quietly, gentle words
that make my aunt look down. She waits for a minute, then
leans to kiss Gram’s cheek before walking out. My mom,
stunned and devastated that she has to leave, can’t seem to
move until Albert comes over to take her elbow. He guides
her from the room, and when she looks back, my gram winks
at her.
I can’t help it—I start to sob.
“Take her outside, Teddy,” Gram says. “I want to talk to
Natalie for a minute.”
My brother puts his arm around me and forces me to the
door; I turn and watch Natalie as she goes to lay her head on
Gram’s shoulder.
“Now, hush,” Gram says, brushing her hair.
Their moment is private, intimate. I feel like I’m peeking
into a relationship I didn’t know they had, and I’m jealous.
I’m jealous that Gram didn’t ask for me first.
“Come on, Coco,” Teddy says, pulling me out. And when
the door shuts behind us, I’m suddenly adrift in my loneliness
as I wait for my grandmother’s last words, hoping that she
lasts long enough to give them to me.

I’m staring listlessly out the passenger window as Simone
pulls onto Dover Street. The radio is blaring Electric Freakshow; Felicity and Gwen sing along—purposely off-key—in
the back. I check my phone to see if anyone has texted from
the hospital, but no one has. I’m suddenly so alone—even in a
car filled with my friends.

“Check it out, Linus.” Simone has to shout over the music.
I turn to look out the windshield and immediately groan. Cars
line both sides of the street, all leading up to a house that might
as well have a banner that reads
PLEASE CALL THE COPS.
We
drive by once looking for parking, earning a few catcalls from
the lawn dwellers, then turn around and try again.

“I’m pretty sure you said
low-key
college party when you
picked me up,” I say, looking pointedly at Simone.
“Did I?” she asks innocently, avoiding my glare. The day
has gone dark, but there are only a few stars out. The sky is
strange tonight, and I can’t help but feel strange, too.
I’m suddenly nervous, even though the party doesn’t look
exactly
wild
. There’s a dude wearing a plaid sweater-vest,
kicking a hacky sack in the driveway. And yet the hairs on the
back of my neck stand up. I check my phone again. Nothing.
We end up parking three blocks away, a fact that Felicity
complains about the whole time we walk through the crisp
October air. Gwen nearly kills herself in the spiked-heeled
boots she’s wearing, and when she’s not groaning about the
“hike,” Felicity chatters on about looking for a quality guy. She
calls dibs on the sweater-vest.
Although Simone and I have been hanging out with them
since last year, it’s pretty clear this is more of a convenience
friendship than anything. Lunches and parties—that’s about
the extent of our interactions. I’m not close to them like I am
with Simone. She and I are forever.
Just then Simone loops her arm through mine. “Guess
who I heard will be here tonight?” She doesn’t wait for me to
answer. “Joel.”
My stomach flips. “That’s nice,” I say, trying not to give
anything away. But her laugh echoes down the street.
“Oh, yes. It is
very
nice. And from what I hear, Lauren is
currently out of town visiting family.” I abruptly stop walking, nearly pulling Simone’s arm from its socket. Felicity and
Gwen keep going, calling back that they’ll meet us inside.
When Simone turns to me, I stare her down.
“You knew this all along, didn’t you?” I ask, narrowing
my eyes. “Is that why we’re really here?”
Simone’s red-stained lips pull into a broad smile. “It’s not
like your longing looks in Joel Ryder’s direction have gone
unnoticed. Don’t ever say I never did anything for you, Linus.”
She smacks a kiss on my cheek and walks up the driveway
to the house, giving the sweater-vest a teasing whistle as she
passes. He salutes in response.
As I stand watching after her, listening to the sounds of
muffled music leaking from the front door, my thoughts turn
back to Gram.
I would do anything for her. Anything in the world. But
instead of sitting at her side, I’m here at a party. I can’t help but
think that maybe my sister is right—I am selfish. I sigh heavily.
You’re here; make the most of it
, I think, rationalizing that I’ll
be back with Gram in a few hours. I lift my chin and walk inside.
There’s a couple standing inside the entry, blocking my
way as they argue over whether or not he was checking out his
ex. I clear my throat and quietly say “excuse me,” but neither
budges. Simone gets farther down the hall and I try to interrupt again, this time earning a glare from the girlfriend. I’ve
started to wonder if I’ll be stuck in the breezy entryway for the
rest of my life when I feel someone push in behind me.
“Excuse you,” I say, holding up a palm to stop from being
flattened between the door and the wall. The pusher—a
blond, blue-eyed typical college random—looks at me in surprised amusement.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” he says, too earnest
to be serious. “It’s just that sometimes I don’t know my own
superhuman strength.” Just to prove it, he pretends to crash
through the door—mouthing explosions and slow-motion
roars—before shutting it gently behind him.
I can’t help it; I laugh. “Forgiven,” I say. “But they might
be your kryptonite.” I motion to the couple, who have now
reached complete breakdown status. “Good luck getting past
them. They’re like the bouncers from hell.” The guy glances
at them, sizing up the situation before taking a spot against the
closed door next to me.
“This might take a while,” he says. “From what I hear,
Jared there is still into his ex. Gertrude isn’t pleased.”
“You know them?” I ask.
He meets my eyes. “Uh, no. Do
you
know any Gertrudes?
It’s a fairly uncommon name. Wait, that’s not your name, is
it?”
I move closer to the wall, putting a little more space
between me and Mr. Hilarious. “I think you’re just trying to
find out my name,” I say.
“Busted. Well?”
The couple in front of us finally stops talking and instead
embraces in what can only be described as a make-up hug,
one with roaming hands and whispers. I start to worry that I’ll
somehow get sucked into their vortex of drama when my new
friend murmurs next to me.
“Looks like Gerdy forgives him. It’s sweet really. Such a
bright future, those two.”
“Yeah, well. I don’t think she’ll be as sweet to his ex,
Belinda. After all, they used to be best friends.”
The guy beams. “Belinda was a really good choice.”
I laugh and then move ahead, finally getting past the couple as their make up turns make out. I’m scanning the room
for Simone when the guy touches my shoulder.
“Do you need help finding someone?” he asks. “I know
most of the girls here.”
“Is that so?” I smile, lifting my eyebrow.
“Oh . . . no,” he says quickly. “I don’t mean I
know them
know them. . . . Well, maybe some of them . . .” When I playfully cross my arms over my chest as if waiting for him to go
on, he tosses back his head and laughs. “Wow, my attempts at
flirtation are going really well, don’t you think? Wonder if I
can make it any worse.”
“I have faith in you.”
He bites his lip, looking both embarrassed and exhilarated by our little exchange. I take the moment to check him
out, noting that with his stupidly adorable smile, he probably
has no problem meeting girls at parties.
“Chris!” someone yells to him from across the room. The
guy lifts his chin in acknowledgment, but then turns like he’s
about to ask me something. Before he can, Simone appears
out of nowhere and pulls me away.
“He’s in the backyard,” she says impatiently, not noticing the handsome blond who was about to . . . well, I don’t
know what he was about to do. But it must not have been that
important because when I turn back to look, he’s gone.
“Who’s in the yard?” I ask, following behind Simone like
a puppy dog. She turns abruptly.
“Joel,” she says. “He’s in the backyard—without Lauren.
Are you going to talk to him or secretly pine away for the rest
of your life? This isn’t
Pride and Prejudice
, Kiera Knightley.”
“You know that was a book before it was a movie, right?”
Simone rolls her eyes. “Of course I know that. But it
doesn’t change the fact that the movie was ten times better.
Now let’s not leave poor Joel defenseless in a party full of
Felicitys.”
The full impact of her words hits and a shock of nervous
electricity races through me. Even though Simone let me borrow a cute, party-friendly outfit, I’m still in no condition to
approach Joel. I might need to have a “Don’t chicken out!”
pep talk with my reflection. “I’ll be right back,” I tell Simone.
She sags dramatically against the hallway wall like she’s
completely inconvenienced. “Hurry,” she sings.
My heart is thumping: The possibility of talking—actually
talking—to Joel is a bit intimidating. It’s not like I’ve never
spoken to him before, but it’s never been with the sole intent
of ripping him from his girlfriend’s clutches. God, I’m so
embarrassed for myself. And even so, I take my place in the
back of the bathroom line at the top of the stairs.
“We meet again,” the guy from earlier says as he looks
back from two people ahead of me. “We’re on the same orbit
tonight. And sorry about—”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and the party fades into
the background. The people. The music. Gone. Somehow I
just know. I know even before I see that it’s Teddy calling.
“Hello?” I answer, gripping the phone tightly.
“Hurry.”
It’s all my brother has to say before I’m trampling down
the stairs, grabbing Simone by the shirtsleeve and pulling her
out the door.