Page 27 of Nothing Less than Magic
“You think our lives would’ve been different if it never happened, if they didn’t . . . die?”
“How do you mean different?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Like, would you have become a therapist? Would I have married a man twice my age?”
It would be a lie to say I don’t ask myself the same things. Did I study psychology in search of closure? Did my sister settle for an older man she never loved to fill the gap my father left behind?
As kids, we’d planned to become detectives, which was obviously influenced by my father’s law enforcement career and probably one of the silly TV shows we used to watch. We would spend hours playing “detective” in our bedroom. Dad would give us a make-believe crime to solve, and three or four suspects. Lolly and I would work through the clues, presenting our theories at the dinner table. Looking back on it, it was sort of a weird game for two little girls to play. But we got lost in the challenge of it, Lolly standing on her bed, acting out each scenario.
It’s no wonder that in high school, she joined drama club. I’d always thought she’d become an actor. But when she met Brent, any aspirations of having a career seemed to fade away.
So, would we have chosen different paths if our parents hadn’t died? “I wish I could tell you the answer to that. But I can’t. No one can,” I say.
“Loll, what’s got into you?” I don’t recognize this side of my sister. The contemplativeness, the visit to our parents’ grave, her willingness to bury the hatchet for a weekend and come all this way to see me is so out of character that, frankly, I’m worried.
“Nothing has gotten into me.” She unfolds her legs, stands up, and stretches. “Let’s go to dinner.”
“Okay.” Her sudden shift throws me, but if she wants to go to town, we’ll go to town. “I hope you brought a coat.” The nights can dip down to the thirties.
“Can I borrow one of yours?”
Of course she didn’t bring one. It’s always warm in sunny Los Angeles. I rifle through the coat closet until I land on something Lolly will find acceptable and grab a down jacket for myself.
“Here you go.” I toss her a shearling coat I splurged on last winter when I was going through post-divorce-stress syndrome.
She puts it on and goes in search of a mirror.
I shake my head and yell, “It’s on the back of the bathroom door. Meet me in the car.”
It takes her ten minutes. “I had to refresh my makeup.”
“Unless you care about impressing a bunch of men in plaid shirts and beer guts, it was unnecessary. But you do you.”
“I always do. What kind of food do they have at this place? I’m a vegan now.”
“Since when?”
“Why do you have to act like that, Chelsea? If you bothered to spend time with me, you’d know that I’ve been a vegan for a long time, now.”
I don’t bother to correct her. “I’m sure they have plenty for you to eat.”
I take the highway this time, saving the scenic route for tomorrow, when it’s lighter outside and Lolly can better enjoy the view.
Lolly’s purse rings, startling us both.
“It’s probably one of the kids.” She pulls her phone out of her bag and with one look at caller ID her whole face lightens up and time melts away, making her look fifteen years younger.
That’s the sister I want back. The happy, loving sister. The sister without armor.
It’s Luna. It’s clear from their conversation that my niece is angry with her father for something he won’t let her do. Lolly is patient but stern. After Lolly talks Luna off her ledge, she tells her she loves her and hangs up.
“What was that about?” I ask.
“Brent won’t let Luna watch an R-rated movie.”
“Ah. It sounded like you were taking your ex’s side.”
Lolly sighs. “For the sake of the kids, we need to be on the same page. He’s stricter than I am. I probably would’ve let her watch the movie. I’ve seen it, and it’s a silly rom-com with some bad language and a few kissing scenes. Nothing she doesn’t hear and see at school. But Brent is from a different generation. What am I talking about? He’s old as shit. The bottom line is it’s not going to do Luna and Taylor any good if we contradict one another.”
