Page 61 of Leave It to Us
“You needed to,” Tami quipped, and Yvonne glared at her.
Lana ignored her younger sister because, well, she was right.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “It always smelled so peaceful here.”
“How do you smell peace?” Tami asked, her nose crinkled as if she were really trying to figure that out.
“You know what I mean. Like it doesn’t smell like car exhaust or overflowing garbage from a dumpster,” she said.
“Or chicken boxes and fries from Lenny’s,” Yvonne added.
“Guuurrrll, don’t you bring up those chicken boxes. That was our go-to after school every day,” Lana said, remembering that scent even as they talked about it.
“The fries used to be so greasy you could see right through the box,” Yvonne said.
“And taste it on those two slices of bread they always put in the bottom of the box,” Lana said.
“Gross.”Tami sang the word.
“Oh, that’s right—you were the pizza queen. Always coming home with that sauce on your clothes that we had to scrub out before putting them in the washer so they wouldn’t stain,” Lana said, and Yvonne nodded.
“That’s right. That sauce was so sweet it was nasty. But you loved it,” Yvonne said.
“I sure did, especially with extra cheese, sausage, and crushed hot peppers.” Tami rubbed her stomach. “I could go for a slice right now.”
“Not me,” Yvonne said, shaking her head. “There’s so many things I can’t eat anymore.”
“Why not?” Tami asked. “You on some kind of diet?”
Lana looked at Yvonne too. “You don’t even need a diet, Yvonne. What are you, like a size 8 or 10? For your height, that’s just fine.”
Yvonne looked away from them and then back before she sighed. “It’s not just about my weight. It’s about my medical condition.”
“Shit,” Tami whispered. “Girl, are you dying?”
Lana tossed her a glare. “If she was, that’d be the worst question to ask.”
“No,” Yvonne said with a slow grin. “At least, I’m doing everything I possibly can to put that off for as long as I can.”
“Then what is it, Yvonne?” Lana asked. She suddenly knew this was serious.
“I have type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure. So I watch the things I eat now, and I take medication, and needles every day.” She wiggled her fingers.
Lana reached out and grabbed one of her hands, turning it over so she could inspect. “Yvonne,” she whispered when she saw the two bruised spots at the tips of Yvonne’s fingers, “why didn’t you tell us? How long has this been going on?”
Yvonne slid her hand away. “It’s nothing. I mean, I know it’s something, but I’ve just been dealing with it. Doesn’t matter how long,” she said.
“It does matter if we could’ve been doing something to help you,” Tami said.
“How? You’re never around,” Yvonne said, and the words fell around them like weights.
They weren’t around—she was right about that. Because she and Tami didn’t want to deal with their mother or how Yvonne acted when she was around Freda, they’d both chosen to stay away for as long as they could.
“We have to do better,” Lana said. “It’s as simple as that. We can’t have you getting sick too, or ... or ...” She sucked in a breath, hoping to keep the tears that were filling her eyes at bay. “We just gotta do better.”
“Well, you can start by not freaking out every time Deacon tells us something about the house. That stress can’t be good for Yvonne. The less butting heads we do on this project, the better. Let her find some of that peace you were just smelling while she’s down here,” Tami said.
“I know you’re not talking about not stressing her whenyourunemployed behind is the one doing the most stressing,” Lana replied.
