Acts of Violet(48)
“Anger, sadness, bargaining, acceptance … Fear isn’t one of the five? Are you sure?” Her expression asks me if I’d like to revise my answer, but I can’t think of what else it could be. “I have no idea. What’s the right one?”
“It’s denial. But it’s not a matter of right and wrong—there’s no such thing when it comes to your emotions. It’s not about what you should and shouldn’t feel as much as identifying what you are feeling.”
“So what does it mean, I swapped fear for denial? I’d argue fear is the healthier reaction. Having your sister go missing is fucking scary. I never pretended it didn’t happen. I faced the reality of that shitstorm head-on. Isn’t that better than denial? Or at least more productive. Unless you think I’m in denial over something else?”
“Like what?”
“Isn’t that where you’re supposed to come in?” Only I want Renatta to stay where she is. It’s like we’re facing each other in a dark tunnel—she’s armed with a flashlight, and I keep retreating as she moves forward, waving around the light. Aren’t I here so she can help my stumbling around? And yet, I want her to stop moving toward me. Stop trying to illuminate things.
“Let’s go back to the fear then,” Renatta says. “What role has fear played in your grieving process?”
“I guess … I was scared she was in danger.”
Renatta narrows her eyes and I imagine her zooming into my brain. “How so? There’s more you’re not saying.”
“There always is. That’s kinda my thing.” But my quips won’t erode this woman’s patience. “Okay. I’m scared of being wrong about Violet. I mean, I’m scared because there’s no right way to think about her disappearance. I get angry because usually I’m sure she left for selfish reasons—avoiding bad press, lawsuits, the IRS—but if it turns out she was being threatened or was actually harmed in some way, I’ll be devastated. Then again, if I mourn her like she’s dead, and it turns out she staged all of it, I’ll be devastated in the other direction.” I throw up my hands. “Who the fuck even knows? I guess I’m scared of believing the wrong thing, feeling the wrong way. It’s a lose-lose situation: either somebody willfully hurt Violet or Violet willfully hurt me. It’s probably the latter, but there’s no way to know for sure. I keep looking for a way to feel that makes sense, but … deep down I know I won’t ever get a satisfying answer. And that lack of resolution—the inevitable persistence of it—that’s the scariest thing of all.” That’s still not all of it, though. What’s even scarier is this tiny seed of hope germinating in me that I might see her again.
“It must be unsettling living with that much uncertainty. Apart from her disappearance, what do you feel is unresolved about your relationship with Violet?”
“Um … all of it?” I rest my head on the back of the sofa.
“Drill down a bit.”
“There’s a lot I never told her—or told her off about. Things I downplayed for the sake of keeping the peace. As we got older, the more honest our conversations were, the more we’d end up yelling at each other, and the louder you yell, the less the other person wants to hear. It got to a point where it was easier to leave certain things unsaid.”
“How did you deal with those unspoken things?”
“Sometimes I vented to Gabriel, but mostly I sucked it up.”
“Did you have any other outlet, like a diary?”
“No, I found it pointless to keep track of my inconsequential life.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “I used to write her when she was on the road, because she begged me to. Her manager would fax me her travel itinerary and whenever I could grab a few free minutes, I’d rack my brain for a way to update her without saying anything negative about Mom’s illness or our money problems. Once in a while, Violet sent us a postcard from the road.” I cross my legs and notice a loose thread at the inside seam of my jeans. “A more decent person would’ve made an effort not to glamorize things—brag about media coverage, celebrities she met, gifts she got from admirers, but we’re talking about Violet, who always fell short in the self-awareness department.” Fuck it. I tug at the thread and it comes loose in my fingers.
“What do you wish your sister had been more aware of?”
“How hard it was, for all of us.” My voice is louder and sharper than I intended. “It was her choice to leave, so her complaints of being homesick felt … I don’t know, trite somehow. Like she never understood what a luxury it was for her to be out there, chasing her dreams, when I was here struggling with basic survival. Paying bills, taking care of family, trying to keep everyone happy. There’s so much she took for granted…” My eyes rove the bookcase, settling on the bronze swans. Why are they so oddly reassuring? “And there are so many ways she hurt me, which I’ve mostly kept quiet about. But they’re still up here.” I tap at my temple. “Crowding my brain for years.”
“Give me one example.”
“Just one? What am I, Meryl Streep in Sasha’s Choice?”
The giggle-snort Renatta rewards me with makes me open right up.
“There was the time in tenth grade Violet and I went to Wei Zhang’s for a sleepover and I woke up with gum in my hair. It was just the three of us, and it couldn’t have been Wei, because she was the nicest person you ever met. Plus, she wore braces. When we couldn’t get the gum out with peanut butter, my sister was quick to ‘help’ by lopping off all my hair. Coincidentally, this was just a few days after I mentioned how much Gabriel loved my long hair. I was devastated at how short it was, but I downplayed it. And I didn’t call her out on it, but I knew it was one of Violet’s spiteful schemes, no matter how much she denied it. What a petty bitch, huh?” I try to keep my voice flippant, but the animosity cuts through. “Then there was the time I got a headache as we were getting ready for junior prom, and Violet ‘accidentally’ gave me a Benadryl instead of aspirin. She completely ignored her date to flirt with Gabriel all night as he tried to keep me from passing out on the bleachers. The maddening thing about my sister was how she did shitty things with just enough plausible deniability. How she’d try to walk back the worst things she said, like it was a bad joke I didn’t get. This went beyond the high school crap.”