Play Dead Page 21
“Won’t you sit down?” she said.
“Thank you.”
She paused, swallowed. “I’m very glad you could make it.”
Stan nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry. There is so much to say, so many things I should have said a long time ago.”
“There’s no need.”
“No, Laura, I really need to get some things off my chest.” He took a deep breath, his handsome face grim and lined. “David was my baby brother. I can still remember the day he was born. I was ten at the time. David, you see, was the little accident.”
Quiet chuckle.
“Anyway, I loved him like mad and he followed me like I was his hero. Wherever I went, he went with me. A lot of that may have been because our father had passed away, but you should have seen us back then. We were inseparable. We played in the yard, built snowmen, walked to school, collected caterpillars. . . . How can two people who shared so much grow apart like that? How can things change so drastically? I never stopped loving him, Laura. No matter what came between us, I never stopped loving him.” His shoulders hitched and then he began to cry.
Laura reached out and gripped his hands. “I’m sure he understands, Stan. I’m sure he never stopped loving you either.”
STAN continued to cry.
Oh, Stan, my man, you are brilliant. She’s buying it all! Now just don’t overdo it, my boy, and she’ll be crawling into your pants in no time at all.
He glanced up and laughed, but it just sounded like he was bawling more intensely. Her hand gripped his tighter.
How hot is she? She just buried her hubbie, and already she’s holding my hand!
LAURA watched him.
It was so sad. Stan would never be able to forgive himself for not telling David how he felt. And now it was too late. Too much time had been wasted on the petty.
Behind Stan, out in the hallway, a face peeked into the room, a face swollen from tears and the torment of sleepless nights. The hair was a mess, the skin sallow and ghostlike. Laura thought about Stan and David’s relationship, the time they had wasted in some ridiculous argument with an origin that probably neither one of them could pinpoint. Now Laura looked at the normally beautiful face of her mother and questioned her own behavior.
Everybody thought that Laura and David had secretly eloped to Australia to avoid the media attention. That was only partially true. The main reason they had run off had just stuck her head through the door. Laura wondered what she should do. She wanted so much to learn from Stan’s mistake, to let go of her anger and reach out to her mother but:
“Laura, I want to talk to you.”
“Sure, Mom. What is it?”
“It’s about that boy you’re seeing.”
“David?”
“I thought I told you I didn’t want you to see him anymore.”
“You did. A few times.”
“So why aren’t you listening to me?”
“Because I’m not eighteen anymore. I can see who I want to.”
“But I don’t like this boy.”
“Good thing you’re not dating him then.”
“Don’t be such a smart-ass, Laura. I don’t want you seeing him.”
“Why don’t you like him? You won’t even speak to him.”
“I don’t have to. I know the type.”
“The type? What the hell does that mean?”
“Playboys with lots of money. That’s not for you.”
“You know I wouldn’t be with him if he was like that.”
“You’d be surprised what men could get away with.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said.”
“Well, David is not like that.”
“Stop seeing him, Laura. That’s the end of the discussion.”
“I’m not going to stop seeing him. I happen to be in love with him.”
Pause. “Oh, no, Laura, please tell me you didn’t mean that.”
“Why? I don’t underst—”
“Exactly! You don’t understand. Just trust me on this. He’s not right for you. Look at his family history. His father—”
“He’s not his father! And how the hell do you know about that anyway?”
“Please, Laura, I’m begging you. It can only lead to disaster. End it with him now before it’s too late.”
Now Laura’s eyes locked onto her mother’s for a brief moment. Most people remarked on how much Laura looked like Mary, and to Laura’s way of seeing things, this was quite a compliment. She wanted to stand, to walk over, to throw her arms around her mother, to forgive her. But the pain was still too great, the need to blame someone for what had happened—however unfairly—too strong to do any of those things.
Laura lowered her eyes and turned away.
GLORIA stood in the corner, her hands fluttering nervously about her face. She looked across the room at her sister. Why does something like this happen to someone like David and Laura? Gloria had spent her life taunting death, teasing him, dangling her life within his grasp. For some reason, he had never snatched it; she was never worth the effort. It was the good he wanted, those who mattered, those like David. Death did not have time for the insignificant.
She turned toward the bar her father had set up for the mourners. For the first time since Laura had dragged her to the clinic, Gloria really craved a drink, a toke, a snort, anything artificial that would deaden her nerves. Her father realized it. He and Dr. Jennifer Harris, Gloria’s shrink, had not left her alone, and she was grateful for that.
Gloria was getting stronger. Most were amazed at how far she had come. But she had a long way to go. By now she was well enough to know that she was far from fully recovered, that her progress and indeed the substance of her life were still fragile.
So she did not mind her father’s watchful eye, which was on her even now as he spoke with Timmy Daniels, one of David’s teammates. It felt nice. She smiled at him and turned back toward where her sister was sitting.
Gloria’s whole body quivered. She bit her lip. One little toke. One little snort. That was all she needed. Then she would be fine. Then she could make it through the rest of the day. Then she would be able to sleep until tomorrow.
And what about tomorrow? Maybe two tokes, two snorts? And then what? She knew. She would start tumbling, tumbling until she didn’t care if she woke up in the morning, tumbling until she once again crashed at the bottom. And this time she would never find the strength to climb out.