Page 135 of Lemon Crush

“Hot flashes, chin hairs, and a desperation for collagen supplements that actually work,” I added as the champagne started kicking in. “Meanwhile, men get to pee standing up and somehow look better with wrinkles. Although there is a ball-length issue that Wade was telling me?—”

“Stop.” Bernie burst out laughing. “Please, I don’t need to hear about my brother’s balls. Morgan? Are you okay?”

My sister was crying beside me. Not only crying but holding back sobs behind her clenched fist and looking like she might start hyperventilating at any moment.

I set down my glass to put an arm around her and she shuddered against me.

“I was so scared, August.”

Bernie got to her feet quickly, backing away and shaking her head at my look of abandonment. “I think you two need to talk. And I need to hold the baby again.”

Morgan took my hand and held it so tightly my fingers turned white. It was terrifying, to be honest. She never cried like this.

Morgan was the warrior. I was the basket case. That was how things worked in our family.

“Scared about what?” I prompted hesitantly.

“You wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t know how to help you, and every time I tried it only pushed you further away. Mom brought the affirmations and hugs to the table. The way you did today. It made me realize that you’ve needed that from me, and I didn’t give it to you. I’m good at tough love, you know that. Sarcasm and solutions. That’s what I have in my tool kit. I thought you hated me for—” She broke off and buried her face in her hand.

Hated her for what?

I rocked her a little in my arms, still bracing myself for a brush-off. “I could never hate you, Morgan. You’remy sister.”

Her laugh sounded painful. “You did for a little while. After you left with Mom and I stayed behind.”

“Oh. That. Well, teenagers are stupid. You know that better than anyone.”

I’d admit, it hadn’t been easy for me to adapt to the change. It was the timing, more than anything. I was starting high school in a new place without my big sister and protector to turn to. Without a friend like Bernie. And with Mom’s insane work schedule during production, I was dealing with most of it on my own and failing miserably. I hadn’t realized how much our mother relied on my sister to handle things until she was gone. To keep us all on track. To make sure I’d done my homework and got to school on time. It was too much responsibility to put on a teenager, I knew that now. But back then, I’d felt a little abandoned. Like Mom and Morgan had both gotten what they wanted and I’d been lost and forgotten in the shuffle. But I’d gotten over it years ago.

“She wanted me to go with her to Italy,” Morgan confessed. “Did you know that? At least for the week of my school break. I told her I couldn’t drop everything and leave the country. That I had responsibilities.”

“You blame yourself for not going with her?” I felt myself sliding into shock.

“She wouldn’t have been carrying those bags,” she said tremulously. “I would have rented a car and she wouldn’t have been on her own.”

Every breath I took was sharp as a razor blade as I realized that we’d both been blaming ourselves instead of talking to each other. Why hadn’t we talked to each other?

“Morgan,Inagged her for weeks before she left, trying to get her to stay home because the cardiologist didn’t think she was up to the trip.”

Her brow furrowed. “She didn’t tell me he said that.”

“He strongly implied and she ignored. And after remindingher for the dozenth time, she told me she’d been proving the doctors wrong for decades. She said that if she died in Italy, at least she would have lived, and asked me what my excuse was. For not living. For using my writing as a justification to say no to everything.”

I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out of my mouth. I’d been holding them in for too long now.

“We were still arguing about it when I dropped her off. Then I jokingly said…” My voice cracked. “I said, ‘Fine. Have fun. Just don’t die in Italy.’ Those exact words.”

“Oh August.”

“We laughed about it—she even said that sounded like a great title for a book—but then she did. She died, and it felt like I’d cursed her or something. Like I made it happen, and everything that came after was all my fault. If this is a guilt contest, I think I win this round.”

Morgan tilted her head back and wiped furiously at her face. “You never told me any of that.”

I shrugged, exhaustion heavy on my shoulders. “You didn’t want to talk about it and I couldn’t. After the celebration, we stopped sharing things with each other. Instead, we made piles and lists and planned the trip to bring her back. The one I couldn’t go on because it took me this long to start piecing my life back together.”

“I shouldn’t have pressured you about it. I had to go, for me, and I didn’t want you to feel left out, so I kept pushing. Even after you got sick and obviously weren’t going to make it.” She shook her head, as if castigating herself. “Then after I came back, everything was different. You were at dinner and working and wanting to enter the race. It was wonderful, and everything I wanted for you, but I didn’t trust it. It was such a dramatic change, August. Especially the racing part. It worried me, because I wasn’t sure if you were… I’m still not sure where that idea came from. You’ve never shown the slightest interest in cars or the race before.”

Instead of trying to explain, I took a page from Chick’s book. I pulled out my phone, found the message from Mom, and put it on speaker without a word.

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