Sisters (12 page)

“Yeah, it is.” He thought about it for a long moment, mulling it over. “Maybe I should write her a letter, or tell her I found someone else. That makes me look like a shit, which I am, I guess, but it won't be about her because she's blind, which might spare her a little.” He sounded hopeful, as though he had found a solution that would work for him, although surely not for Annie. Sabrina's heart ached for her, as she listened to him. She thought he was a selfish, cowardly little shit.

“It's going to be a blow either way. I think she was considering moving back to New York for you. So this was a big deal for her,” Sabrina said sadly.

“It was for me too … until this. This is such shit luck for her.” It was the understatement of the century. “I don't know. I guess I'll write to her. I'll send it to you, and you can give it to her whenever you think she's ready.” How about never, Sabrina wanted to say.

“She'll figure it out anyway, when you never call and don't show up.”

“Yeah. I guess. Maybe that's the best way then. Just disappear out of her life.” Sabrina couldn't believe what she was hearing. He sounded relieved.

“That doesn't sound very noble to me,” Sabrina said clearly. In fact, it sounded chickenshit to her, the cowardly way out, but it no longer surprised her. Annie's Prince Charming in Florence was a total lemon.

“I never said I was noble. I'm going to Greece next week anyway. Maybe I'll just write to her after that, and tell her I met someone else, or hooked up with an old flame.”

“I'm sure you'll think of something. Thanks for your time,” Sabrina said, wanting to get off. She'd had enough of him. All she wanted was to drive a stake through his heart, on her sister's behalf. Maybe two stakes, to be sure. He deserved worse than that, for what he was about to do to her sister, whatever his excuse.

“Thanks for calling. Sorry I can't do better than that.”

“So am I,” Sabrina said, “for Annie's sake. You're missing out on one of the great women of our time, blind or not.”

“I'm sure she'll find someone else.”

“Thanks,” Sabrina said, and hung up on him, before he could say another word. She was steaming when she hung up, and Tammy and Chris had gotten the gist.

“What a sonofabitch,” Chris muttered under his breath, and Tammy looked devastated for her sister, as did Sabrina. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

They visited Annie in the hospital that afternoon. She was still unconscious, and would remain that way for another day or two, from the sedation. As it turned out, she was going to sleep through their mother's funeral on Tuesday, which the others thought was a blessing for her.

They had dinner together at the house that night, and Sabrina and Chris cooked. They were tired and depressed, and their father hardly said two words all night and went back to bed. Candy stuck around at least, and the four of them sat and talked long into the night, about their childhoods, their hopes and dreams, the crazy memories that surfaced at hard times like this.

On Monday the doctors took Annie off the respirator. Tammy and Sabrina were with her, and Candy and Chris were in the waiting room, in case anything went wrong. It was a tense moment, but they got through it. The two older sisters clutched each other's hands and cried when she took her first breath on her own. Sabrina looked at Tammy afterward and said that she felt as though she had just given birth to her herself. They reduced the sedation after that and expected her to wake up gently on her own in the next few days.

The visitation at the funeral parlor was that night, and was beyond awful. Hundreds of their parents' friends came, childhood friends of theirs, people Jane had been on committees with, others whom none of them even knew. They spent three hours shaking hands and accepting condolences. The girls had placed beautiful photographs of their mother around the room. They were all drained when they got home, and that night everyone went straight to bed. They were too tired to talk, think, or move. It was hard to believe that their mother had still been alive only two days before. Everyone at the visitation asked for Annie, and they had to explain what had happened to her as well, although they hadn't told anyone yet that she was blind. For the sake of her dignity, and out of respect for her, her sisters had decided that Annie ought to know first.

The funeral was the next day, at three in the afternoon. Tammy and Sabrina went to visit Annie in the morning, and she was still peacefully asleep. In some ways, they were both relieved. It would have been too much having Annie discover her blindness that day too. They had gotten a reprieve for another day.

The funeral itself was exquisite agony. It was simple, beautiful, elegant, and in perfect taste. There were lilies of the valley and white orchids everywhere. It looked more like a wedding in some ways, and the church was full, as was their house afterward. Three hundred people came to the house to remember her, drink, and eat from the buffet. Sabrina said to Chris afterward that she had never been so tired in her life. They were just about to sit down in the living room, when the hospital called. Tammy's heart stopped as she answered. All she could think of when the chief resident identified himself was that if Annie died now, it would kill them all. They had already been through so much more than they could take.

“I wanted to give you the good news myself,” the resident said to Tammy as she held her breath. Was it possible? Was there still such a thing? Was there any good news left? It seemed hard to believe. She had made it off the respirator and was no longer listed in critical condition, which was a huge step, but she had made another leap that night. “I thought you might like to come over,” he said quietly, as Tammy was about to tell him there was no way any of them could muster the energy after the emotions of the past few days and her mother's funeral that afternoon, but she never got to say the words. “She's awake,” he said victoriously, as Tammy closed her eyes, and tears of grief and gratitude rolled down her cheeks.

“We'll be there in half an hour,” she promised, thanking him for the call. And she knew as she hung up that for Annie, the hard part had only just begun.

Chapter 8

Annie's eyes were still bandaged when they got to her,
and the chief resident assured them that they would be for at least another week. It gave them time to prepare for what they were going to say to her. She complained that she couldn't see anything with the bandages on, and asked weakly to have them taken off. Sabrina explained that her eyes had been hurt in the accident, she'd had surgery on them, and it would hurt if they took the bandages off. They kissed her and held her hands and told her how much they loved her. All three of her sisters and Chris had come to visit her. Their father was just too wiped out to face yet another emotional event. He promised to visit her the next day. They still had their mother's burial to get through the following afternoon. It was going to be a short ceremony at the graveside, and then they'd leave her there. The girls were anxious to get that over with. It was another day of torture for their father and them, and in the past four days they'd had more than enough. Their mother's burial was the last step in the series of traditions that seemed barbaric to all of them now, and this would be the final one.

Seeing Annie talking and moving again, and speaking to each of them was an affirmation of life. She asked where their parents were, and Tammy said simply that they hadn't come. They had all agreed not to tell her about her mother's death yet. She had only just woken up, and it seemed cruel to hit her with that before she regained at least a little of her strength, particularly with the shock she had in store about her sight.

“You scared the hell out of us,” Tammy said, kissing her again and again. They were so grateful to have her back, and Candy lay down next to her on the bed, and dangled her feet off, which made them all laugh. She snuggled up to Annie, and smiled for the first time in four days.

“I missed you,” Candy said softly, lying as close to her as she could, like a child cuddling up to her mother.

“Me too,” Annie said in a tired voice, reaching out to touch each of them. Chris even came into the room for a few minutes, but said he didn't want to wear her out. “You're here too?” she said when she heard his voice, and smiled. He was like a big brother to all of them.

“I am. I came out for the Fourth of July, and never left.” He didn't tell her he'd been cooking for all of them, or she would have wondered where their mother was.

“This wasn't how I was planning to spend my vacation,” she said with a wan smile, and touched the bandages on her eyes again.

“You'll be up and running in a few days,” Tammy promised.

“I don't feel like running yet,” she admitted. “I have a terrible headache.” Tammy and Sabrina promised to tell the nurse. She came in to check on Annie a few minutes later, and reminded them not wear Annie out. She offered her medication for the headache, and after kissing and hugging her, a few minutes later, they all left. Every one of them looked drained. It had been an unbelievably tough day. Their mother's funeral, all the guests at home afterward, and now Annie was awake. All in one day.

“When are they taking the bandages off?” Chris asked as he drove them home.

“I think in about a week,” Sabrina said with a worried look. She had already called her office that morning, and was taking the next two weeks off. Chris had finagled four days, so he could spend the rest of the week in Connecticut with her. And Tammy had done the same, but she had to go back without fail by the coming Monday. She didn't see how she could stay even another day. Candy had called her agency and asked to get out of the booking in Japan. They were furious about it, but she insisted she was too upset to work, and told them why. So at least for the rest of the week, they could all be together, and at Annie's side. Sabrina knew she was going to need each one of them, maybe for a long time, or even forever. They hadn't worked out the future yet. First Annie had to wake up, and now that she had, they had to make plans. Sabrina was relieved that Annie hadn't said anything about Charlie that night. She was still too tired, but sooner or later, she would ask. It was yet another blow coming her way, along with her mother's death and the loss of her sight. It just wasn't fair for one human being to have to face so much. Sabrina would have done anything to lighten the load for her, but no one could.

They were sitting in the kitchen late that night, after their father went to bed, when Sabrina looked at her sisters with a frown.

“Uh-oh,” Tammy teased her, and poured herself another glass of wine. She was beginning to enjoy the gatherings they shared every night, in spite of the reason they were still there. She was deriving enormous comfort from her sisters, more than ever before. Even their collective dogs were starting to get along. “I know that face,” Tammy commented as she took a sip of the wine. They were raiding their father's wine cellar every night, just as they had when they were young. And when he found out then, he had had a fit. Tammy smiled at the memory, and savored his excellent wine. She reminded herself to send him a case of good Bordeaux after she left. They had been drinking some of his best wines. “You've had an idea,” Tammy finished the thought, looking at her older sister. Sabrina looked as though she was hatching a plan. In the old days, when they were kids, it would have meant something forbidden, like giving a party when their parents went away for the weekend. She used to pay Tammy five dollars not to squeal. “I used to make money on these deals,” she explained to Chris. “So what is it now?”

“Annie,” she said succinctly, as though they could read her mind.

“I figured. What about her?” They were all dreading telling her about their mom. They would have to do it soon. It wasn't fair to her not to know for much longer, and inevitably, she would wonder where she was. Even that night, it had been hard to explain. Their mother would have been there in a flash, and camped out in the room. Her absence was sorely felt by them all, and would be by Annie too.

“She can't go back to Florence, and Charlie is a jerk.”

“Yes, I think we all agree on that.” He had been a huge disappointment to all of them, and would be to Annie most of all. But now she had bigger problems to solve. He was just one more source of grief. “You're right, she can't go back to Florence. I don't see how she could manage there in a fifth-floor apartment, no matter how independent she wants to be. She should probably move home, with Dad. It would be company for him.”

“And way too depressing for her. She'll feel like a child again. And without Mom here, she'd be really sad.” They were all feeling her absence in the house. Even in the three days since she had died, it felt as though everything had changed. And they knew their father was feeling it too. The housekeeper had come that day, and all she did was cry. And at twenty-six, Annie would not want to come home, not after living on her own in Italy for two years.

“She can stay with me, if she wants to. But I don't think she knows anyone in L.A., and without being able to drive or get around, she'd feel trapped. And I'm out all day.” They all knew that Tammy worked impossible hours, and Sabrina did too, but at least she was in New York, which was familiar to Annie. She had lived there briefly before she left for Paris four years before, although she said it was too hectic for her. She had liked France, and then Italy much better, but now it was out of the question. She needed to be closer to home, for a while anyway, until she adjusted to her situation. They all agreed on that.

“She can stay with me if she wants,” Candy chimed in, and then looked at them apologetically. “But I'm away a lot.”

“That's my point. We'd all love her to live with us, but we each have some kind of problem that makes it difficult. Or at least you two do. I work crazy hours, but I think she could handle New York.”

“So? What part of this plan are you not telling us?” Tammy asked as she sipped her father's wine. She knew how Sabrina's brain worked. There was a master plan here somewhere that she hadn't exposed to them yet.