Page 82 of I Can't Even

“Wait until she’s out of plates,” I said.

“I’m sorry it rained on your golf game.” Crash! “I’m sorry I can’t volunteer for the blood drive on top of the food drive while planting seedlings at the dog park which we’re having a five K run to raise money for while I drive twelve children in a carpool, only one of which is mine, for music lessons.” Crash! “I’m sorry you can’t find the ketchup in the refrigerator. I’m sorry I’ve gained five pounds. I’m sorry the house is a mess. I’m sorry I’m not enough!” Crash! Crash! Crash!

Em and I stood at the door waiting to be sure there were no more dishes anywhere. When Soph started to sink toward the floor, which was ankle deep in china shrapnel, we rushed forward with our arms open and bookended Soph, keeping her upright while we hauled her out of the kitchen. We sat her in the middle of the couch and took positions on each side of her.

“Soph, breathe.” I was worried about her pallor and feared she might faint.

She took a shaky, shuddering, breath and said, “I’m sorry.”

Then she laughed a bit hysterically as it was mixed with sobs. Em rubbed her back while I held her hands. There was so much I wanted to say, like how much I had always disliked Stan and how I always suspected he was a no-good piece of garbage. I forced myself to be quiet, to listen, to support her. It was so freaking hard when I really wanted to get in the car, find Stan, and run over him two or three times.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Em asked.

“No.” Soph shook her head. “It’s the oldest story in the book. Middle-aged husband loses interest in old, boring wife and cheats.” She glanced at the ceiling and sighed. “I guess Mom and I have something in common now, huh?”

I studied my sister’s ravaged face and slowly exhaled. I wondered if Babs had felt this betrayed by our dad. It made me uncomfortable but knowing how much Babs valued her status of “wife,” I had a feeling she had felt exactly like this if not even worse, because, of course Dad had stuck her with me, a living breathing testament to his infidelity. My stomach cramped. Since discovering the truth of my birth, I had made Babs the villain, but the truth was, she’d been the victim and didn’t that just make things even more complicated.

“What are you going to do?” Em asked.

“I don’t know.” Soph sounded forlorn and that hurt more than anything. My sister who always had it together seemed completely lost.

“He’s a selfish prick, Soph, and he always has been,” I said, my temper getting in the way of my common sense.

“Don’t!” she snapped. “He is my husband and the father of my children. We have been together for over sixteen years so, yes, maybe things are a bit strained, but that’s life. Not all of us just runaway when the going gets tough.”

The very air between us stilled. If I thought she meant it, I would have been crushed but since I knew she was lashing out, I just paused, waiting.

“I am so sorry,” Soph said. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. God, I’m such a bitch.”

That made me laugh. If there was ever anyone who wasn’t a bitch, it was Soph.

“You are not, and you’re forgiven,” I said. “I’m the one who pushed. I owe you an apology. I am sorry. I love you. Please forgive me. Your situation with Stan is none of my business. I just care.”

“You’re my sister,” Soph said. “Of course, it’s your business. Please don’t say anything to the twins. They leave in a few days, and I want them to have a fabulous trip and not worry about their parents’ marriage. It’s good that I’m staying here for the summer. It’ll give me some time to figure things out.”

Soph twisted her fingers in her lap and then rose to stand. “I should go cleanup my mess.”

“Stop,” I said. “We’ve got this. Why don’t you go get some rest? I’ll order us some dinner. Thai food, okay?”

“I’m not hungry.” Soph’s narrow shoulders bowed. Em and I exchanged a look of utter helplessness. This sucked.

“You know, I met a Voodoo priestess down by the pier the other day,” Em said. “Want me to ask her to make a doll of Stan? We could stick pins in his wanker.”

“Yeah, a case of permanent limp dick,” I cheered.

Soph blinked and then busted out a laugh. She hugged Em and then me. “I love you guys.”

“We love you, too,” we said together.

We watched as she slowly climbed the stairs. My bright bubbly older sister looked gutted. Oh, I wanted to punch Stan until my arm gave out.

It took us an hour to clean the kitchen. Tiny shards of china managed to get into every crack and crevice, and we took turns sweeping, vacuuming, and hauling bags out to the trash. The Thai food arrived, and Em brought some up to Soph, but she insisted she wasn’t hungry. We put it in the fridge for her if she changed her mind.

We decided to eat outside by the fire pit. Halfway through our meal, Em’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen. Her eyebrows lifted a little, and I knew she was about to disappear to wherever it was that Em had been disappearing to. I swear she was worse than the cats and I was beginning to suspect the three of them had access to a magical portal that took them to another dimension, because honestly one minute they were there and the next minute – poof!

“I have to go,” she said. “There’s a thing.”

I stared at her over my cardboard carton of pad thai. There had been a lot of “things” lately and every time we asked her about them, she was vague, like CIA-operative vague, and then later we’d see the “thing” posted on her social media account.

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