The Words We Leave Unspoken(57)

“Gwen? Are you okay?” she asks in a panic, rushing to my side. “What happened?”

“I peed my pants... so sorry... couldn’t make it to the bathroom,” I manage to say through my sobs. She is quiet for several seconds and so I look up from my hands. And she is holding back a smile, I can tell.

“You scared the shit out of me!” she says with her hand over her heart. And then she plops down next to me, stretches her legs out in front of her and laughs. She laughs so hard that she’s crying and I find myself laughing through my own tears. And it feels so good to laugh, to let go of everything that I’ve been holding inside. The sadness, the frustration, the anger – I let it all go. After a few moments of ridiculous laughter, Charley says, “And I thought I was a mess.” And I laugh even harder until my stomach hurts and my breath becomes labored.

“Okay, Gwen, enough,” she says holding her side, breathing heavily. “Don’t make me get your oxygen tank.”

We both sigh as we catch our breath. I feel better. Hard to imagine while I’m sitting in my own pee, but I do.

“How about a shower?” she asks and nothing has ever sounded better.

“I would love a shower,” I say. Charley stands and puts her hands under my arms, pulling me slowly to a standing position. I put my arm around her and we walk together to the bathroom. She helps me strip off my wet clothing and step into the shower until I’m sitting on the tiled bench in the large stall.

She starts the water and sets the perfect temperature, making sure that my shampoo and body wash are within reach and then she says, with a small smile, “I’m going to step out and give you some privacy, just yell when you’re ready to get out.”

“Okay,” I say and then as she is turning to leave I add, “Charley, thank you.”

She only smiles and steps out of the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Whether she realizes it or not, she has given me the perfect gift, a few moments alone with the ability to wash my hair, to feel like I can do something, anything, for myself. The warm water feels great on my skin and I feel as if I’ve gained a small sense of dignity back now that I have clean hair. I sit with my eyes closed and let the water spray over my face.

I never thought that I would ever say this but Charley has been a godsend. She has been amazing with the kids. In fact, she spent most of the weekend here at the house with them while John stayed with me in the hospital. And when John carried me into the house this morning, we were greeted with a huge “Welcome Home Mommy” banner that hung from the banister courtesy of the kids, but no doubt facilitated by Charley. The house was clean, spotless in fact. She has taken the week off from work to stay and help out, alongside my mother which is no small feat. It’s as if aliens have abducted my sister and replaced her with this other grownup, more responsible version. And yet, inside she’s still Charley – evidenced by her ability to make me laugh over the fact that I wet my pants. Something only my childlike sister could do.

“How’s it going in there?” I jump at the sound of Charley’s voice.

“I think I’m done,” I say, noticing that the water is beginning to run cold.

She reaches in and turns the water off, handing me a towel instantly. I dry my skin, ring the water out of my short hair and wrap the towel around myself. Charley helps me stand and walks me into the bedroom. I can smell disinfectant and know that she has rid the floor of my mess and remade the bed, turning it down to look fresh and clean. She helps me sit on the edge of the bed and then rummages around in my closet until she finds a pair of black sweatpants, a light pink T-shirt and comfy underwear.

“This okay?” she asks, holding out the three items.

“Perfect,” I say while I pull the T-shirt over my head and then she helps me stand and slips on my underwear followed by my sweatpants. She helps me crawl into bed, tucking me in on propped pillows.

“Are you tired? Do you want to sleep?”

I think for a moment and then say, “No, not really.” My body feels tired from all the moving around but I feel refreshed.

“TV?” she asks, nodding toward the flat screen mounted on the wall above the fireplace.

“Yeah, maybe for a little while.”

She hands me the remote and then disappears into the bathroom, emerging seconds later with a brush in hand.

“Here, sit up,” she says and I do. She slips behind me and starts brushing my hair. It feels so good that tears sting my eyes. The quiet way she takes care of me, securing every shred of my dignity that she possibly can, brings me to tears.

“Remember when you used to brush my hair?” she asks as she moves the bristles though my short, thick strands.

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Yeah, it seems like yesterday, doesn’t it?” I say, remembering that time in our life clearly.

“You were always there, taking care of me...” her voice trails off and she sighs, setting the brush down.

“What is it, Charley?” I ask, scooting to the middle of the bed until we are sitting side by side, propped up by loads of euro pillows.

“Nothing,” she says shaking her head, but I know that look. She wants to say something.

“Just say it, Charley. I may have pissed my pants, but I’m still your sister, I’m not going to break.”

This rewards me a small smile from her and then she asks, “Did you know about Dad? Did you know all along that he’s living under the I-5 bridge?”