Life and Other Inconveniences(115)

Hope was on a special swing in the back with one of her aides, smiling faintly at the grass as the breeze blew her messy hair.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I said, smooching her head. “Hi, Gerry.”

“You want some alone time with your sis?” he asked.

“That’d be great. I’ll find you when I have to go.”

“Alrighty. Miss Hope, I’m leaving you with Emma, okay? See you later, sweet girl.”

I sat on the empty swing next to her and reached out for her hand. “How’s my darling?” I asked her. “Are you having a good day?” She liked the swing, which looked like a big plastic scoop with straps, specially designed to keep her comfy and safe and unable to fall off.

Hope and I had had really shitty luck with parents. Her mother had dumped her, our father had dumped us both, and depression had stolen my beautiful mom, its insidious lies telling her I’d be better off without her. But she had loved me. She’d shown that to me every day we had together, and I knew it down to my bone marrow.

Genevieve wasn’t depressed, not clinically. The idea that she wanted me to help her take her own life twisted like a knife in my stomach.

Hope made a little cooing sound.

“What’s that? You want a song? ‘Baby Beluga,’ then?”

I obliged, and she stole looks at me, smiling a little. There was something magical about my sister. I don’t know how her parents had chosen her name, but it was perfect. She brought out the best in people . . . at least in me. And Genevieve. And Riley, too, though Riley was pretty great all around.

If Genevieve died—and of course she would—I’d always pictured myself taking Hope back to Downers Grove, a happy little fantasy that had nothing to do with reality. She needed extensive care, and I had a daughter, a job and no home of my own. It wouldn’t be fair to her—Rose Hill was the better place for her.

But I was her guardian now, even if money was not an issue. Genevieve wasn’t long for the world, one way or the other. There was no cure for vascular dementia.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice. It was Miller, dressed in jeans and a faded red T-shirt that said Finlay Construction. My heart lifted.

“Hi. You working here today?”

“Yep.”

I smiled, feeling myself blush. “Miller, this is my sister, Hope. Hope, this is my friend Miller.”

She didn’t lift her gaze from the grass, but when he knelt down to be at eye level, she smiled a little and brought her hands to her chin, showing she was shy but not entirely displeased.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hope,” he said. He sat down on the swing to my left. “I’m gonna get a lot of flak for this from my crew,” he said.

“Swinging on the job.”

“Exactly. With two beautiful girls, no less. How’s your day?” he asked. He gave me a crooked smile that went straight to my heart.

“Better now. Kind of shitty this morning.”

“Why is that?”

“I found out Genevieve’s been lying to me all summer.”

His eyes widened. “About what?”

“About everything. Her health, her finances, what Riley was going to inherit. Oh, and she wants me to help her commit suicide.” I tried to keep my tone light and failed miserably.

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. So . . . I’m probably going back home sooner than I thought.”

He twisted the swing to look at me. “What do you mean?”

“I think I need to get Riley out of here. Fast.”

His face was serious, the earlier smile gone without a trace. “Seems like Riley’s pretty good at dealing with people.”

“Yeah, well, she’s a teenager. And she had a really rough winter. I don’t want her getting crushed by someone else she thought she could depend on.”

“Genevieve? She loves that kid.”

“Oh, okay, Miller, I guess you know my grandmother and daughter better than I do. Tell me what I should do, since you’re doling out advice.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Is this what you shrinks call transference?”

I looked at the ground and let out a sigh. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Want me to leave you to sulk?”

“No.” I swallowed, got up and started braiding Hope’s messy hair. At least it would stay out of her face that way. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He leaned back, hands on the ropes, and stared at the sky. “Guess I was hoping you’d stay in Connecticut.”

“I have a whole life back in Illinois,” I said.

“People move.”

Hope made a little sound, and I stopped fussing with her hair and knelt in front of her. “You okay, sweetheart?” I asked.

She didn’t answer. She never did, of course. A small lump was rising on her neck—another benign tumor, according to her doctor’s report. No need to operate now. They’d watch it and see how it went. She needed oral surgery this fall, since one of the issues she faced with TS was pitting of her teeth.

Shouldn’t I be here for that? I loved my sister. She was my responsibility now.

“It took me a long time to build what I have out there,” I said, more to myself than to him.

“So what?” Miller said.