Rapid Falls(16)

Today I just nodded.

Finally the car came to a stop. Neither of us moved for a moment. The only sounds were the ticks and hisses of the car cooling.

“Ready?” my dad asked, unbuckling his seat belt. Last night I couldn’t hear Anna’s latch as I unclicked it underwater. I didn’t know if I had released her in time as I tugged at the cold metal, my hands barely able to grasp it. I shivered. It was dark in the parking garage, and everything sounded muffled, almost like I was still underwater. I flexed my fingers.

“I’m ready.”

He stayed in his seat, and I looked over at him, wondering what he’d forgotten, why he wasn’t opening the door. Suddenly he turned and grabbed me tightly. It made me wince, but his arms made me feel safe in a way that I hadn’t since I pulled Anna up onto the rocky beach. My lungs had been burning, and the rough ground had felt like sandpaper on my frozen skin. In the darkness of the night and blindness of my panic, it had seemed as if the river were about to surge toward us and suck us back into its black depths. Someone must have seen us and notified the police. I didn’t remember calling for help. It was only my father’s embrace that let me shake the feeling that something was still coming for me.

“I love you, Cara,” he said.

My throat was constricted by the words, but I managed to answer. “I love you too, Dad.” I pulled away from his embrace only when his arms started pressing harder than I could bear. It felt like my bruised flesh might split, like the skin on an overripe peach. He looked into my eyes, and I could see his were brimming with tears. I remembered suddenly that this was the place where both his parents died. My mom told me that he had practically lived in the hospital for months. She had been left all alone with two babies, but our neighbors had packed our freezer with lasagnas and sloppy joes. People in Rapid Falls came together in a crisis. I wondered if they would do the same for us now.

“I’m glad you are okay.” The words were simple, but the way he said it made it seem like finally he loved me the best.

“Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded abruptly, as if he had made a decision, and then jerked on the door handle. “Okay, let’s go.”

The hospital was shockingly bright compared to the gloom of the concrete garage. My dad led the way confidently down a green-line path to the intensive care unit.

We arrived at the nursing station. My dad asked for Anna’s room number, and the nurse murmured a soft response. He turned back to me and motioned the way.

“Anna is awake,” he said.

I knew that was a good thing for my family, for me, but all of a sudden, I realized that I didn’t want to see my sister. I wanted to run, to never come back to her or my mother or my father. Jesse was dead. Anna was alive. Everything was wrong, but I had to pretend it was okay. I forced myself to keep moving forward. We approached a partially open door. My mom was inside, slumped in an uncomfortable-looking chair.

“Thank God. Cara!” She half spoke and half sobbed as she caught a glimpse of my face. She rushed toward me, wrapping her arms around my body. I still mattered.

“Suzanne, how is Anna?” my father said, stepping around us into the room. My mother released me.

“She’s okay,” she whispered. “We’re all okay.” It sounded like she was convincing herself. Not all of us, I thought, as Jesse’s wide grin came into my mind. One side of Anna’s face looked as shiny and swollen as an eggplant. Her eyes were open. She looked at me. Neither of us spoke.

My father walked toward her; his face crumpled with relief. “I can’t believe . . .” His thickened voice clogged the words. He reached for her hand and held it so tightly that I could see Anna’s fingers turning white. “We love you so much.” He clutched her hand to his chest. I had fooled myself into believing that the accident had changed something, but no, Anna would always be worth more to him than I was. Anna’s eyes turned glassy with tears, and my chest swelled with anger. No one here was okay. It was like everyone had forgotten that Jesse was dead because of Anna. Anna looked directly at me. I stared back, hoping she could tell what I was thinking.

My mother touched my dad’s arm. “We should . . . let’s give them a moment.” My dad stood up and tried to wipe tears away without anyone seeing.

He turned to me and nodded. “We’ll be right over here.” The two of them walked closer to the door, and I could hear them whispering as my mom briefed him on Anna’s injuries. It was the most I’d seen them say to each other in months. Maybe years.

I compressed my fury, pushing it deep into my stomach, willing it to be silent and contained as Anna spoke.

“I don’t remember anything,” she said. An almost overpowering wave of emotion washed over me. Anger, fear, sadness, and relief. I looked into her eyes, seeking something I couldn’t explain. They were bloodshot, but she met my gaze dead-on. There was no malice, no deceit. She looked like she was telling the truth. Was she really that messed up? Was she still in shock? Could she have forgotten everything about last night? What about the secret she’d been keeping for months before?

Anna broke the silence. “Mom told me . . .” She swallowed hard. “Mom told me . . . about Jesse.” It was not what she said that ignited my pulse of rage. It was the look in her eyes when she whispered his name. I had to stop myself from screaming. I knew the words I said, at that moment, would be the truth we would live by for the rest of our lives.