Page 50 of You're So Vine
Then she says, “What’s on your mind, friend Cam?”
Maybe it’s because I’ve come all this way. Maybe it’s because she looks so much like Lee. I don’t even know this woman’s name, and I tell her everything. I tell her about my humiliating moment at Doc Wilson’s, about the fight with Ava, how I overreacted and snapped at her because any mention of war or PTSD stillmakes me crazy, even ten years down the track.
“It’s like all I’ve done for the past decade is find ways to hide from it when I should have been dealing with it,” I say. “I’ve hid like a coward because I could. Because Billy and Lee let me.”
“Let you?” The gentle rebuke might not have been intended, but I hear it, nonetheless.
“Okay, no, not exactly. Theydidpush me…” I feel a stab of guilt about Ava. “But I guess they knew I was the only one who could decide to deal with my mental health, so they didn’t push beyond a certain point.”
“They were right,” she says. “It was your decision.”
“Thing is, like people say about alcoholics, you have to reach rock bottom before you acknowledge you have a problem. I’ve never fallen that far. Because…”
I’m struggling to explain this properly. Fairly.
“Because for the last ten years, you’ve been cushioned by the Armstrong family and Flora Valley Wines,” she says, correctly.
“Not their fault,” I say hastily. “Blame lies squarely at my feet. I’ve been a coward…”
I’ve run out of talk. Run out of energy. I sit and listen to the crash of the sea below, and the glittery sound of wind chimes. And the blood rushing in my ears from the sudden surge of mortification.
Finally, just as I’m about to curl up in a ball, she speaks.
“Would you have told Lee all this?”
Good question. Embarrassing question.
“Probably not all of it,” I admit.
“So, you came here for comfort? For reassurance?”
I want to crawl under this chair like a hermit crab.
“Habit.” I’m down to single words, now.
“Well, friend Cam,” she says. “I don’t know what Lee might say to you, but I’m not in the habit of providing comfort.”
She pauses, as if to catch her breath. My nerves are on high alert, waiting.
“Sounds to me like you can’t afford to waste any more time,” she continues. “You never know what’s round the corner and it’s not always good.Tempus fugitsocarpe diem, friend Cam. Translation: stop shillyshallying and make that choice. Step up.”
Shit. She doesn’t sugarcoat at all. She’s like Lee’s evil twin.
I have to ask. “Who areyou?”
“I’m Lee’s sister,” is the reply I didn’t actually expect.
My mouth’s fallen open. I shut it.
“I never knew Lee had a sister.”
The woman stares at me for beat. “Neither did she.”
Behind us, the gong chimes sound off and a cross-breeze rattles the sliding door. Lee’s home.
She dumps a tote bag on the floor, then comes right out. She sees me when I stand up and is visibly startled. Can’t tell if it’s in a good way or not.
“Cam!”
