I shake my head, feeling extra rejected. “I don’t understand. You can talk to me about this.”
“I don’t want to talk to you, okay? I don’t want to talk to anyone. Just…leave me alone.”
That fucking hurts. But I have to remind myself it’s not about me and my feelings right now. I have to give her the space she needs.
“Okay,” I manage to say, my voice shaking a little. “I get it. We don’t have to talk now. Or ever. But I want you to know I’ll listen if and when you’re ready. And I’m here for you. And I love you.”
She just grumbles something in return and pulls out a cardigan, slipping it on. “I knew you’d start to pry.”
“He brought it up,” I protest. “And even if he didn’t, why shouldn’t I? I’m your sister.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to tell you anything,” she says, going to her bedside table and pulling something out. She turns her back to me before I can see what it is, but from the sound of the cap being popped off and the following rattle, I know it’s a bottle of prescription pills.
“What are you doing?” I quickly walk over there, trying to see.
“Nothing,” she says, putting the bottle back in the drawer.
I watch her swallow it down, no water, then I open the drawer and fish it out, holding the bottle in my hand. It’s a prescription for Xanax.
“Since when do you take Xanax?” I ask.
“It’s been awhile. It’s not a big deal.”
“Then why are you trying to hide it?”
“Because I knew you’d get weird,” she says, walking over to her mirror.
I put the bottle down on the table. “I’m not getting weird. I’m just wondering. Dex is on those too.”
“So then, you know.”
“But what made you start? Does dad know? Aren’t you a little young?”
“I’m fucking nineteen, Perry,” she snaps at me, eyeing me in the mirror. “You were snorting fucking coke at fifteen, so lay off.”
Whoa. I thought we were past this. It’s been awhile since she’s thrown my drug addiction in my face.
“Okay,” I say slowly, trying to calm my beating heart. “Maybe that alone should make you pause. Have you told Dad?”
“He made the appointment. He’s on shit, too. You’ve moved on with your life with Dex, with your perfect marriage, new life, and new career, but you’ve forgotten about us here in this house, trying to get through all this shit after Mom died.”
It’s like she’s gone and punched me right in the gut. My lips press together, trying to compose myself. How on earth can she think I’ve moved on and forgotten about her?
“That’s not fair,” I say quietly. “Just because…just because I don’t live here doesn’t mean I’m not going through the same things.”
I see a wash of remorse in her eyes, but then she looks away and shrugs. “You wanted to talk, I’m talking.”
I don’t even know what to say now.
I try to swallow the brick in my throat, then head to the door. I expect her to say something to me before I leave, but she doesn’t.
Nine
Have you ever wanted something so badly that it takes over your life? That all your waking thoughts and your most lucid of dreams seem to converge on this one thing, this one need that opens up some chasm in your soul and makes it impossible to feed? Because that’s what want is sometimes, an urgent, deep-seated hunger for something you can’t live without, even if you haven’t had it yet.
I felt that hunger for Dex. I still do. He still ignites a million flames from the scattered ashes inside me, always evolving, adapting, consuming me in one way or another.
But now that want, that need, has grown. It’s born from our dark, passionate, infinite love for each other and evolved into a child.
I want a baby with Dex so badly that I ache. It actually physically hurts me to want something this much, a kind of feverish clawing in my chest, like if I don’t get what I want soon, I might just die.
It’s scary, is what it is.
No, not scary. It’s fucking terrifying to want something that much.
And yet I’ve kept all of this close to my heart. I’ve kept it bottled up, because on the other side of this need, is the fear. They go hand-in-hand. The fear that I might get what I want. And the fear that I won’t.
What if I had my only chance all those years ago?
What if I can’t get pregnant for a whole number of natural reasons?
And what if I can’t get pregnant for supernatural reasons?
The what ifs are killing me inside, adding to those claws that rake my chest from the inside out.
All I know is that I can’t handle this anguish by myself anymore.
I need to tell him.
I missed my chance on my birthday yesterday, but twenty-seven seems like a good year to start.
I glance at Dex in the driver’s seat as we motor down the winding US-26 highway between Portland and Cannon Beach, seeming to be locked in his own thoughts the way I’m locked in mine.
Last night, after Ada and I had what can only be described as a fight, I went downstairs and attempted to watch Back to the Future with Dex and my dad. Ada never came back down after that. I didn’t even see her before we left this morning. My father called to her, but she was in the shower forever and never appeared, not even to give me my birthday present.
I spent most of the drive talking to Dex about it. Last night I ended up drinking a whole bottle of champagne and falling asleep on the couch, so he had to carry me to my room. I’m grateful that I’m not as hungover as I should be, especially considering the zig zag of the road here.
Anyway, his advice was to just let Ada be for now. This is her first major breakup with a guy, and with everything else that’s going on in her life, she might not know how to handle it. It might just be easier for her to turn inward and push me away, to pretend it’s not happening. I just have to wait it out and hope that she’ll eventually want to open up.
I still don’t know what I did to make her so upset, though. Could it really be that she resents me, thinking I have things easy when she doesn’t? I guess I don’t like to complain to her too much, so maybe she thinks everything is perfect in my world. Perhaps I should have been more open with her, with all my ups and downs. I could have told her about the lady in the restaurant, I could have told her about seeing Maximus, I could have told her about this insane ache to start a family, and all my fears that go along with it.
And I will do that, I decide. I just owe it to Dex to tell him first.
When we finally get to the resort, I feel like a cloud has lifted, even though the place is totally fogged in. It doesn’t matter though. I already know the change of scenery is going to do us some good.
Dex takes out our bags, and I follow him into the check-in. The resort is right on the beach, and though it seems fairly small, the lobby is done up with various driftwood pieces and marble, and through the hall you can see the endless stretch of beach buffeted by pounding waves and the center piece that is Haystack Rock.
The hotel is composed of a main building plus a few little cabins. To my surprise, we have one of the little cabins, which includes a private hot tub in the front overlooking the beach.