“A short trip, where?” Delia asked, resuming her seat.
“To the mall,” I said. “Any mall. This wardrobe, Deel?”
“I told you, I’ve been managing our money. High fashion wasn’t a top priority.”
“Clearly,” I said with a laugh and an eye-roll.
“It’s too soon,” Delia said.
“I think Dr. Chen will sign off if I go with her,” Rita said.
“Today?” I said.
“We’ll see,” Rita said, rising. “I’ll go check with her and get your belongings from the safe too.”
“Thanks, Rita. You’re the best.” I felt Delia’s eyes on me. “What?”
“If she says yes, we’re not blowing a ton of money on clothes.”
“Your idea of a ton of money is vastly different from mine,” I said. “Speaking of, how are you affording this place? Insurance? Or has healthcare had a miraculous turnaround in the last two years and everyone’s finally learned we need to take care of each other?”
My sister sipped her tea. “Mom and Dad had an insurance policy, making us the beneficiaries.”
“Oh.” I sat back in my chair. “How much?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“You have to say. They were my parents too.”
“I don’t want you to get the idea that you don’t need to be careful with money anymore.”
I crossed my arms. “I wasn’t irresponsible before the accident. I was going to college. Saving up for New York. I’m not a completely lost cause.”
“One million dollars,” she said as if I’d pried the words out of her mouth.
My jaw dropped. “A million? Between the two of us?”
“Each.”
“Holy shit.” I sat back in my chair. “That’s a lot of shoes.”
“I had no idea how much care you would need,” Delia said, “long-term or otherwise so I’ve been careful. Stretching it out to make it last as long as possible. Insurance only goes so far.”
“Here we go,” Rita said, returning. She laid my wallet on the table in front of me, then hesitated. “I have your cell phone too. But…”
“But what?”
“I need to prepare you. It’s damaged from the accident.” She handed me the phone and a cord. “You can charge it at that outlet on the wall to see if it still works.”
The face of the phone was cracked, and dried blood was smeared across the home button. I couldn’t remember the accident, yet I held it in my hand, like a clairvoyant, holding an object and gleaning the truth from it.
With shaking hands, I plugged the phone in. We waited in silence for it to come back to life.
“It’s back,” I said as the screen came on. “Cracked and bloodied, but it’s still here.”
Like me.
Memories turned on in my mind with the phone. Texts with my friends, silly apps, and my music. God, my music was there. And photos.
I dipped my napkin in my water glass and gently wiped the blood away, then hit the photo icon. The last photo my phone took came up. Mom and Dad, Delia in her cap and gown, and me in a pink dress with paint splatters across the front. Tears blurred my vision.
“Look, Deel. It’s us. All of us.” I turned the phone’s cracked face to my sister. “Your graduation,” I said. “We were so… ourselves that day. I was aggravating you. Mom and Dad were so proud. And you were rushing us out the door so we wouldn’t be late.”
Delia looked away, blinking hard. “I should’ve been in that car.”
I dropped the phone in my lap. “No. No, don’t think that. Ever.”
She didn’t meet my eye, and I reached over and touched her hand.
“Hey. I know it’s been hard for you, dealing with everything alone. But I’m only awake because you took care of me. And if there’s one thing me waking up has taught me, is to be grateful for everything. Every minute. I’m so grateful for you, Delia.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Okay, Thea. Thank you.”
I tapped my chin. “It was Richard… No, Roger. Roger Nye. He’s the reason you weren’t in that car. If he were here, I’d give him a huge hug. Where is he now? What’s he been doing? What have you been doing? God, I don’t even know. I’ve been so wrapped up in—”
“You’ve been wrapped up in getting better,” Delia said. “And that’s exactly what you should be doing. Not running out the door the first chance you get.”
Delia hadn’t run away, though she could have at any time. She could’ve left thinking I’d have forgotten all about her, but she stayed.
I reached over and hugged her. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” she said and extracted herself from me. Back in Business Mode. “Well. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go shopping.”
Dr. Chen gave me the okay to go to the Westfield Mall at Roanoke, provided Rita was there and we took the medical van with the driver on standby. The staff had already made a medic-alert bracelet for me and Rita clasped it to my wrist as we left Blue Ridge.
“Wearer of this bracelet may appear disoriented or confused,” I read off the silver band. “If found, please call 911. If found? Like I’m a lost puppy?”
“It’s a smart precaution,” Delia said.
I didn’t argue. Precaution was Delia’s middle name, and the doctors had to protect me in the event their medication failed. But the bracelet felt heavy and pessimistic. The medication wasn’t going to fail. And if it did, all the more reason to get out in the world and not sit around a sanitarium waiting for the ax to fall.
At the outdoor mall in Roanoke, I found some better clothes at H&M—colorful peasant blouses, cut-off jean shorts, off-the-shoulder shirts. Delia insisted on finding sales and paying with a special card that accessed my life insurance bank account.
I started to tell her I could pay myself. At the time of the accident, I had over three thousand dollars in savings.
But is it still there?
I planned to wear my new clothes out of the store. In the fitting room, I ditched the khakis forever and changed into cut-off shorts and a green tank top with embroidered yellow daisies on the front. I slipped my wallet into a new, colorful Boho-style stitched bag, wondering if the cards still worked. If my driver’s license was expired. Can I drive again? Be independent again?
Suddenly I was desperate to know my money was there. Not the million from the insurance policy—that was too much and felt more like Delia’s. The three thousand dollars was mine.
“I want to hit American Eagle and Urban Outfitters next,” I said. “But first I need a Wetzel’s pretzel like nobody’s business.”
Rita fanned herself with her hand. “And a lemonade.”
We took our food to an outside table under a large yellow umbrella, and I spied an ATM near the bathrooms down a corridor.
“I gotta pee,” I said, grabbing my bag. “B-R-B.”
“Someone should go with you,” Delia said.
“Nah,” I said casually and popped a pretzel bite in my mouth. Salt and breaded goodness made me close my eyes in ecstasy. “Lord, Wetzel’s knows their shit.” I patted Delia on the top of her head. “I’ll be back in five or you can send the SWAT.”