Mom got it, and asked me to leave her to do that until she’d gotten over the worst of the loss, and of course I agreed. I didn’t mind having her there; even if her conversation was usually monosyllabic, she was still company for me; if she was silent and uncommunicative, at least I still had the sound of her breathing at night, especially if I woke up to find her huddled up against me, her cheeks wet where she’d been crying in her sleep.
My heart was breaking for my baby sister, I didn’t know how to help her, and I couldn’t give her back what she needed most in the world, so we ambled along, silently communicating, or not, living in silences that we didn’t know how to break.
Eventually she began to come back, to take notice when I commented on a show we were watching, to maybe give a wan smile when I made a joke, and to spend more time in her room or with mom rather than hiding-out in my room. I breathed a sigh of relief as she recovered from the paralysing grief that had almost overwhelmed her, and sometimes now I caught her looking oddly at me, then grinning mysteriously before looking away.
She still snuck into my room now and again, though, and I’d wake up to find her curled up fast asleep on my couch, with her favorite quilt wrapped around her, her face relaxed and angelic, the face of a little girl at peace with the world.
I started college in the fall, studying for an MBA, as dad had always felt I had the mind and discipline for business; to my surprise, I found I had a natural aptitude and an actual interest in the world of finance and management. I lived at home, as the college was only in Monte Vista, five miles away, an easy commute. While I studied, I also kept a close eye on Kat, and took an interest in her school life and interests. She’d tried out for the cheerleading squad, but inexplicably ditched the final try-out, even though she was one of the top three picks, and during one of our evening sessions watching TV in my room I asked her why.
She grinned, suddenly looking 12 years old again.
“I realised I didn’t want to be lumped in with the rest of those bimbos and tramps, okay? I looked at who was in the squad, and who was trying out, and asked myself if I’d allow any of those sluts anywhere near Frankie, and the answer was a definite no! I don’t want to be labelled as one of ‘those’ of girls!”
She leaned over and kissed me once, lightly, on the cheek.
“My Frankie is a special guy, and there’s a special girl waiting for him, you wait and see!”
I laughed, delighted that she’d followed dad’s advice long ago, to do what you want to do, not what people think you should do, or want you to do. My baby sister was getting to be a feisty little miss again. I think dad would have been proud of her, I know I was.
And so started a new type of closeness between Kat and me. While we were both there 100% for Sarah if she needed us, I realised Kat needed me too; with no father, and no Joe anymore, I was the only older male influence she had, even if it was only by a couple of years; I became her friend again, but also her confidante, her support-system, her conscience, and her confessor, even though I was only a couple of years older than her; I think it was because I never questioned her judgement. I knew she had a good head on her shoulders, really all she needed me for was to confirm decisions she’d already made. As she got older, this became more and more the way things were. It didn’t help that she was also blossoming into a lovely young woman; I began to have nightmares about her, boys, and the multitude of things that teenagers could get up to that ended badly, especially when the boys were loaded hormone-guns with hair-triggers, just waiting to go off, and Kat was just about the prettiest girl in the whole damn town!
I didn’t realise it at first, but I was actually becoming jealous of the boys who’d call her, or walk her to school, or walk her home, or talked to her outside the school, and those who had the nerve to call the house, well, I gave them short-shrift if I got to the phone before she did. It was an uneasy time for me; I was feeling more like her father than a slightly over-protective older brother; I was finding it hard to define inside what it was I was protecting her from, and why, although the easy answer was, ‘take a walk down Bixby, see if you can spot Sarah, all alone there with that little boy, is that what you want for her?’
When I thought of it that way, my resolve stiffened, although the feelings of jealousy and resentment when boys called asking her for a date never quite went away; deep down inside I knew it was more than that, but I could never dredge down deep enough to properly examine those reasons for my attitude toward her and boys, perhaps because I knew subconsciously that I’d find something there that I shouldn’t.
A few weeks before Kat’s 18th birthday, yet another hammer-blow landed on this family. I got a call one afternoon, just after I’d come in from classes, it was Sarah, wanting me to collect Kat and take her over to Bixby Street, Sarah wanted to see us both. She wouldn’t elaborate over the phone, but I thought her voice sounded strained, like she was restraining herself. To tell the truth, I was a little alarmed; my first thought was that there was a problem with little Joey, but Sarah wouldn’t say anything more, just repeated her instruction to go get Kat and bring her over, and then she hung up.
I drove to the high school, intercepting Kat as she was climbing into a car with a group of girls and boys, and fought down the sudden surge of possessive jealousy, feeling strange that I should be feeling that for her. Kat was surprised to see me, and no less apprehensive when I told her what Sarah had told me, but she got in the car, making no conversation all the way to Sarah’s home, about 3 miles away.
When we got there, Sarah answered the door, and I was shocked at her appearance; she looked pale and drawn, and her eyes were puffed and red from crying. My heart leaped into my throat; something was wrong with Joey, oh my God! Kat jumped to the same conclusion, pushing past Sarah to grab up the toddler and hold him close, nuzzling and baby-talking to him as tears started in her eyes.
Sarah wordlessly took Joey from her, Kat reluctantly letting go of him, and sat down, motioning for both of us to sit. Kat reached out to her, her hand trembling.
“Sally, what… what’s wrong, oh dear God, it’s Joey isn’t it? Please say it’s not, please!”
Sarah wiped her eyes and kissed the squirming infant on her lap.
“No, baby, it’s not Joey, he’s fine, I promise you!”
We both breathed again, relief shedding off us like autumn leaves.
Kat looked at Sarah again.
“Sally, if it’s not Joey, what is it, what’s wrong?”
Sarah lifted Joey to look into his clear tawny-brown eyes, so much like hers, a single tear escaping her own and running down her cheek.
“It’s mom. She asked me to tell you, she can’t, she doesn’t know how to.”
Kat and I sat perfectly still, until I broke the silence.
“Tell us what, Sally, what does mom want you to tell us?”
Sarah looked away over my shoulder, not meeting my eyes.
“Kids, mom’s… ill, she’s been sick for a while now, they never found out, and now…”
Sarah stopped to swallow, tears flowing freely now. I hadn’t even noticed that Kat had taken my hand, her knuckles white as she squeezed me tightly.
“Mom has ovarian cancer, they found it too late, it’s too late to stop it, she’s dying, my mom’s dying…”
I was stunned; mom hadn’t looked sick this morning when she chided me for not eating a proper breakfast before heading off to college, she’d laughed at the cartoons Kat was watching at the counter while she washed up, she’d been normal, ordinary, just mom.
Kat sat in stunned immobility, her mouth working as she fought to say something, two big tears welling up in her luminescent green eyes. She turned to me, the one who’d always made everything right for her, her mouth working soundlessly, and then she slumped against me as she fainted, overcome by the emotion she was trying to deal with.
I caught her and slid her onto the couch, sliding a cushion under her head until Sarah stopped me.
“No Frankie, leave her lie, lift up her feet, higher than her head, she’ll be okay in a little while.”
I slid back down to the ground, staring at Sarah, trying not to cry myself, my heart thudding as I absorbed what she’d told us.
“How long, Sally?” I whispered, and she ducked her head down, absorbing herself in Joey as she cried.
“Three months, maybe six, but that’s all; mom’s been sick for a long time; she wanted to keep it quiet until after Kat graduated, but now she knows she won’t even make it that far. She’s started making arrangements, you know… for… for the funeral, the house, where Kat’s going to live after… after…. I thought she could stay with me, both of you, it will be good to have all the family in… in one place, together again, what do you think?”