Read Online The Good Sister by Drusilla Campbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Drusilla Campbell
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person in your life, I can’t see you suffer like this. I’d rather let Simone win.”
She heard his words, the ultimatum, but they were spoken in a language she barely understood.
“I can’t fight anymore,” she said.
“We’re not fighting.”
“This isn’t a fight?” She tried to laugh. “What is it then?”
“Sorting stuff out, I guess.”
Her brain wasn’t fit to sort out anything. It moved in slow motion like an ancient computer the size of a battleship.
“I just know I love you.” The words weren’t enough. He wanted a pledge of some kind, a scientific proof that he could see.
“And if you truly want this job then I want it too. Go to Chicago. I know my relationship with Simone isn’t good the way it
is. Elizabeth has been harping on it since the day we met, but…”
She closed her eyes, seeing constellations.
“I’ve tried to get free of her so many times, Ty. But it never lasts. I’m like one of those game fish who’s bitten onthe hook and can’t get free. It fights and fights, but eventually it just can’t struggle anymore.”
“It’s going to work this time, Roxanne, because you don’t have to do it alone.”
“I fear for her.”
“I fear for you. And us.”
“I’ll try,” she whispered. “I swear I’ll try.”
Because our life depends on it, because I love you.
Constellations, galaxies, universes beyond number: time and gravity and energies as yet unknown tore at them; and yet, wondrously,
the stars and planets survived and the center held. Maybe love did that. Maybe love explained it all. Who knew?
Roxanne and Chowder drove Ty to the airport, and afterward she was afraid to return to the empty house on Little Goldfinch.
She’d left her phone there; in the car she was cut off from all demands and responsibilities. She had made a promise, one
she meant to keep. But how was she to begin to do what had always before been impossible?
Go home,
she told herself.
Keep busy,
she thought.
She sat in the car at Mission Bay, watching children in bathing suits with sand stuck to their bottoms as they played in the
last light, pushing and shoving and crying while the adults around them packed up blankets and towels and chairs and coolers.
In the backseat of the car Chowder whimpered and squeaked, making sure thatRoxanne knew Mission Bay was a great dog-walking place. She fastened his leash and they set off north in the direction of
the Hilton Hotel. After half a mile she wanted to turn around, but Chowder was enjoying himself so she kept going until they
reached the turnaround in front of the Visitors’ Center. Back in the car, Chowder licked her ear and lay down on the backseat,
happy and contented.
It takes so little to keep a dog happy.
On Sunday she had breakfast with Elizabeth, waiting in line thirty minutes for bacon and eggs at a joint in North Park that
served the best hash browns in the city and made creamery-style milkshakes. The long narrow space smelled of coffee and hot
grease, and the fry cook—a stocky woman known in the neighborhood as the shit lady—muttered the same expletive over and over
as she tended the sizzling grill.
“Remind me why we come here,” Roxanne said, scooting into a booth, avoiding a torn strip in the leatherette.
“The classy atmo? The irresistible lure of bad cholesterol?”
Roxanne thought about what Ty teasingly called her addiction to fast food, and suddenly she was mad at him, resentful of his
ultimatum and eager to enlist Elizabeth on her side. She told her about their fight, or conversation, whatever it was. Where
details had begun to fade, she filled in the spaces with indignation, the sense ofhaving been wronged growing in her as she recalled the way he went on about vows and forsaking and fidelity. She told Elizabeth
about her promise to stop being Simone’s caretaker.
“Good luck, huh?” She ate a bite of bacon. “I am so screwed up.”
“I’d have to agree with that.”
No
She heard his words, the ultimatum, but they were spoken in a language she barely understood.
“I can’t fight anymore,” she said.
“We’re not fighting.”
“This isn’t a fight?” She tried to laugh. “What is it then?”
“Sorting stuff out, I guess.”
Her brain wasn’t fit to sort out anything. It moved in slow motion like an ancient computer the size of a battleship.
“I just know I love you.” The words weren’t enough. He wanted a pledge of some kind, a scientific proof that he could see.
“And if you truly want this job then I want it too. Go to Chicago. I know my relationship with Simone isn’t good the way it
is. Elizabeth has been harping on it since the day we met, but…”
She closed her eyes, seeing constellations.
“I’ve tried to get free of her so many times, Ty. But it never lasts. I’m like one of those game fish who’s bitten onthe hook and can’t get free. It fights and fights, but eventually it just can’t struggle anymore.”
“It’s going to work this time, Roxanne, because you don’t have to do it alone.”
“I fear for her.”
“I fear for you. And us.”
“I’ll try,” she whispered. “I swear I’ll try.”
Because our life depends on it, because I love you.
Constellations, galaxies, universes beyond number: time and gravity and energies as yet unknown tore at them; and yet, wondrously,
the stars and planets survived and the center held. Maybe love did that. Maybe love explained it all. Who knew?
Roxanne and Chowder drove Ty to the airport, and afterward she was afraid to return to the empty house on Little Goldfinch.
She’d left her phone there; in the car she was cut off from all demands and responsibilities. She had made a promise, one
she meant to keep. But how was she to begin to do what had always before been impossible?
Go home,
she told herself.
Keep busy,
she thought.
She sat in the car at Mission Bay, watching children in bathing suits with sand stuck to their bottoms as they played in the
last light, pushing and shoving and crying while the adults around them packed up blankets and towels and chairs and coolers.
In the backseat of the car Chowder whimpered and squeaked, making sure thatRoxanne knew Mission Bay was a great dog-walking place. She fastened his leash and they set off north in the direction of
the Hilton Hotel. After half a mile she wanted to turn around, but Chowder was enjoying himself so she kept going until they
reached the turnaround in front of the Visitors’ Center. Back in the car, Chowder licked her ear and lay down on the backseat,
happy and contented.
It takes so little to keep a dog happy.
On Sunday she had breakfast with Elizabeth, waiting in line thirty minutes for bacon and eggs at a joint in North Park that
served the best hash browns in the city and made creamery-style milkshakes. The long narrow space smelled of coffee and hot
grease, and the fry cook—a stocky woman known in the neighborhood as the shit lady—muttered the same expletive over and over
as she tended the sizzling grill.
“Remind me why we come here,” Roxanne said, scooting into a booth, avoiding a torn strip in the leatherette.
“The classy atmo? The irresistible lure of bad cholesterol?”
Roxanne thought about what Ty teasingly called her addiction to fast food, and suddenly she was mad at him, resentful of his
ultimatum and eager to enlist Elizabeth on her side. She told her about their fight, or conversation, whatever it was. Where
details had begun to fade, she filled in the spaces with indignation, the sense ofhaving been wronged growing in her as she recalled the way he went on about vows and forsaking and fidelity. She told Elizabeth
about her promise to stop being Simone’s caretaker.
“Good luck, huh?” She ate a bite of bacon. “I am so screwed up.”
“I’d have to agree with that.”
No
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