“You’re not worth the paperwork.”
With that, I turn and start to walk away. I don’t get too far when I hear him yell, “I’ll see you soon, Heather.”
Brody leans against the car with a huge grin on his face. I point at his chest and warn him again. “Not a word.”
He chuckles and climbs in the car. “You better pray no one at the station hears about this.”
I groan and rest my head on the seat. “I sure know how to complicate things.”
“Yeah, you sure do.”
With that, we both fall silent as I drive to the hospital. Brody and I walk to Stephanie’s room without commenting further on my life choices. It’s the one saving grace in my job, guys don’t want to talk about it all. Brody lets me say what I need to say, and then once he’s had his input, he’s done. I don’t have three-hour-long discussions to analyze the “why” of things with him. Nicole, who I’m sure is dying to grill me for details, is the exact opposite.
I make a mental note to avoid her as well.
As soon as I see Steph, I can tell she’s doing better. The shades are open, and she’s sitting on the guest chair and looking out at the water. Her hands are steady, and the overall mood in the room is lighter. But I know my instincts are correct when I see Stephanie’s big smile as we enter. “Brody!” she practically squeals.
Stephanie has had a crush on him for as long as I can remember. If I didn’t see him as an annoying guy who has gas issues, I probably would think he’s hot, too. He’s tall, has dark blue eyes, a chiseled jaw, and he oozes confidence.
“Steph!” He grins and pulls her into his arms. “You’re looking hot.”
I fight back slapping him, but I know he’s trying to make her happy. He is all too aware of her affections, and I’m grateful he doesn’t ever make her feel silly.
Rachel thinks it’s cute as well.
I think it’s ridiculous.
“Stop,” she says as the blush paints her cheeks. “How’s work?”
Brody fills her in on the call we just came from, and she clutches her chest. I could leave the room, do handstands, or juggle and she wouldn’t notice. When he’s around, he’s all she sees. He’s the only man in her life that doesn’t treat her like she’s dying.
“But the best part,” Brody leans in and my eyes widen, “was when your sister pulled over a famous actor!”
“Brody—” I try to stop him, but Stephanie waves her hand at me.
“Yup. Eli Walsh.”
“Oh my god!” Stephanie yells. “Eli! Like, the same guy you went to the concert to see?” she asks, looking at me and then Brody.
“The same one.” Brody grins. “Did Heather tell you they know each other?”
“Dead. You’re dead,” I state.
My hands start to sweat and regret washes through me. I didn’t want to tell anyone this. And my big mouth told Brody. Yes, he sort of figured it out on his own, but still. Now, the last person I want to tell is my sister.
I don’t know why, but I feel like an irresponsible adult who did something completely out of character. Letting her see that makes me want to crawl in a hole.
“Heather!” Stephanie shifts quickly. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell. You need to focus on you and not me.”
“What?” She looks affronted. “What does that mean?”
I walk toward her. “It’s nothing that I want to talk about.”
“But you’ll tell Brody?”
I was enjoying her good mood.
“Because Brody is nosey and figured it out. You don’t need to know about these things.”
Her face morphs from annoyed to pissed off. “You’re not my mom, Heather. You’re my sister. You act like I’m some kid. I’m twenty-six, and I’m so tired of you treating me like this.”
This the part of our relationship I absolutely hate. Stephanie doesn’t get that, while she’s technically an adult, she’s still a kid to me. I’m twelve years older than she is and practically raised her because she was a minor when our parents died. I wasn’t.
After that, we no longer had the relationship where she would try on my clothes and we’d spend hours watching movies. It became about homework, bills, laundry, and making sure she wasn’t cutting class. I don’t resent it. I would do it all over again. But it didn’t mean I liked the way it changed the dichotomy of our relationship.
“I know I’m not Mom. Believe me, I know.”
She’s used every opportunity to wield that sword at me, and it cuts deep each time, leaving wounds that aren’t superficial.
“Then stop treating me like your kid and treat me like your sister. I don’t know how much time I have left, and I would like to have our relationship be different.”
Tears fill my vision as she brings forth the truth of what time we have. Brody clears his throat and touches Steph’s arm. “I’m going to grab some coffee. See you later, Squirt.”
She fumes at his nickname and turns her head away.
I take Stephanie’s hand in mine. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“I ruin everything!” She bursts out and pulls her hand free from my grasp so she can cover her face.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because! I do!” Steph turns a little and a tear falls. “I know I’m the reason Matt left.”
“Steph—”
“No, I know.” She wipes the tear away and draws a long breath. “I hate that my illness brought you pain. You didn’t need that.”
My heart pounds in my chest, and I’m doing my best to stay strong. The fact that she thinks she’s responsible for Matt’s crappy decision is unreal. It isn’t her fault he wasn’t man enough—it’s his.
I open my mouth to dispute her, but she puts her hand to my lips.
“I’m not done. It’s been hard watching you scrimp and save because I can’t work. There’s nothing you wouldn’t and don’t do for me, and I love you so much. However, it doesn’t mean you can’t live, Heather. Jesus, live because I can’t.” Stephanie’s voice is strangled on her last word. The tears I was trying to keep at bay fall. I pull my baby sister into my arms and hold her to my chest. “I can’t live, but you can . . . and you should,” she says as both of us fall apart a little.
I grasp her face and pull her so we’re eye to eye. “You’re living now, Steph.”
“This isn’t living. This is waiting to die.”
The words I want to say all feel wrong. She has every right to be angry, sad, and anything else she grapples with. Her life was stripped from her in a way that took our world and knocked it over. There was no warning or planning for this disease.
Instead of demeaning her feelings, I hug her tighter and let her cry.
After a few minutes, she calms and leans back. “You okay?” I ask.
“No, but I feel a little better.”
“You don’t have to hide your hurt from me,” I remind her. “I’m always here for you.”
Stephanie nods. “I know, but I miss my sister. I want to know when you do dumb things, and I sure as hell want to know when you meet some famous person.”