Page 13 of Love is Angry

I don’t like where this conversation is going. The pursuit of truth should take precedence. It is the one thing my mother always valued. She taught Laura and me to cherish the concept. Truth. Honesty. Doing the right thing. Then again, I have not been the Boy Scout she would have liked me to be, either. And look at Laura. Bound to a wheelchair after trying to kill herself. Fucking hell, what a mess of a family.

My sister shakes her head. “I don’t know what else you want to know about that day, anyway. Dad was there. He saw the whole thing. And I remember my own state of mind at the time. All that pain…”

Her voice breaks, eyes shiny with sudden tears. I can’t help but reach across the table and cover her hand with mine.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to revisit those moments if you don’t want to,” I say. “I just thought…I don’t know. I thought you were all for this regressive therapy thing.”

Laura closes her eyes and breathes deep. When she opens them again, she meets my irises directly.

“Mostly, I did it for you, Rhue. I mean, sure, I would like to remember my own deeds, but seeing where I ended up, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I wasn’t happy. Besides, I did it infront of Dad. I think maybe that means something. My therapist thinks that maybe it was more of a cry for attention than it was an attempt to die. I know you and dad don’t see eye to eye. Hell, he and I aren’t always on the same team, but every time I remember that, what he must’ve been through… fuck.”

“Hey. Language. Remember?” I grunt softly.

“Why do we keep revisiting that day when all it does is hurt me and Dad, not to mention you? Can’t we just put it behind us, instead, and focus on healing?” She pauses to grin. “That’s what the Doc suggested, by the way. Apparently, I’ve blocked the memory out so ferociously that every attempt at opening that can of worms only makes me more anxious, more aggravated.”

I let a heavy breath out and release her hand. She needs love and sympathy right now. She needs forgiveness and affection. She’s right. I can’t have her picking at that old scab to solely satisfy my morbid curiosities. Well, not really morbid curiosities. More like a need to understand what happened the day I came home and found the ambulance and three police cars outside my house just three months after we’d buried Mom. There is only so much I can take. Something happened that hurt my sister. Something pushed her to the point of wanting to die, and I can’t get rid of the need to know exactly what it was.

Nevertheless, she wants to let it go. I cannot push her.

“Dad has been through enough, too. I’m already punishing him aplenty by messing with Steve and overspending on my cards,” Laura adds with a giggle. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Maybe we should just take a break as a family.”

“I actually agree. We’ve had enough trouble for the year, already.”

“How’ve you been?” she asks, eager to change the subject.

“How’ve I been? I just started college,” I reply with a chuckle. “A little nervous, maybe, but definitely excited.”

“What about Madison? I heard from her dad that she was going to Cornell, too,” she says.

And just like that, my entire evening goes to shit. The food loses its taste. The kick in the spices is gone. Even the floral bouquet from my wine has vanished. I’m left with a bitter staleness on the tip of my tongue and rising blood pressure.

“Have you two seen each other yet?” Laura asks. It’s like a knife twisting in my wound, slashing and tearing and filling everything with fresh blood, sending ripples of red-hot pain through my body. “I think Mr. Willis said she’s majoring in anthropology, like you.”

“I really don’t wanna talk about that whore,” I reply, my tone tight and clipped.

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Dude. Are you still hating on her for the affair?”

“Should I canonize her, instead?”

“It’s just… You know what Dad’s like. He’s pushy. Influential. He gets what he wants,” Laura says, suddenly serious. Hell, she’s almost grim. This is odd, coming from her. She’s always worshipped the man, though he has been treating her like shit, lately. Especially since the accident. He acts like she’s a nuisance, an annoying appendix he has to make sure is well fed and cared for. Yet despite all that, Laura usually defends him.

“You mean to tell me Madison wasn’t asking for it?”

Laura shrugs. “I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But let’s both admit it. Julian Echeveria is a grade A dick when it comes to women. Even Mom knew that. Hell, it’s probably what—”

“Don’t,” I cut her off, already shaking. “Don’t go there, please.” Or else I’ll projectile vomit everything I’ve managed to eat until now.

“Listen, I talk to Madison once in a while. She did try to apologize a couple of times, but I stopped her,” Laura says. “She used to teach me math and physics, remember? For two wholeyears, before she even graduated. Thanks to her I got my GPA up.”

“That’s because she was paid to do her fucking job.”

“Point is, maybe listen to her side of the story. It takes two to tango.”

Oh, Madison and my father absolutely tangoed that day. “I don’t even want to hear about her. Why do you insist on bringing her up?” I reply, inching closer to the dark edge.

“You really liked her, Rhue. More than you’ve liked any other girl.”

“Things change. Times change. People change,” I hiss.