Clarity (10 page)

“And what does it look like?” I ask her.

“It looks like I’m a psycho with bulimia and I’m trying to ensure that there’s nothing in my body so I don’t look fat in my wedding dress,” Carmen says. “But really, I just drank
wayyyy
too much last night. The girls were just forcing me to take shots, left, right, and center. It was out of control. I’m never going to touch tequila again. Ever.”

I lift my eyebrows. “I see that you’re still the same old lovable, responsible Carmen.”

“Shut up,” she grumbles. “It’s not fair. If you were around more often, you’d see my better moments. You’d see the highlights. You’d see that I’ve changed a lot and grown up. But the first time you see me in years, you happen to walk in on me while I’m on my knees and—” She trails off as her body begins to shudder again. She wraps her arms around the toilet bowl and begins to retch violently.

With a frown, I crouch down to sit on the floor beside her. I rub my hand over her back soothingly. I can feel that she is wearing a tiny silk nightgown, and I worry that she must be freezing with her bare skin pressed against the cold bathroom tiles. When she finishes voiding the contents of her stomach, I try to think of something witty to say to distract her.

“Many women spend their whole lives dreaming about their perfect wedding day,” I tell her. “Personally, I think yours is off to an excellent start.”

“You jerk,” Carmen says, hitting me in the arm. “Thanks for being a bucket of sunshine!” She pauses, and her playfulness disappears completely as her voice grows dark and quiet. “Why did I even invite you to come here? It’s not like you care. It’s not like you want to be here. Why would you? You’re so superior to us, and you don’t need anyone. I bet you enjoy sitting there and patronizing me.”

“Hey,” I say softly. “That isn’t true. You know I love you. And today’s going to be great! Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“No,” she says softly. She clings to the toilet bowl as her shoulders begin to tremble gently with the onset of tears. Her sobs are silent, but filled with misery. “I don’t have the energy to move. Go away.”

As my hand rests on her shoulder blade, I feel her anguish seep into me from the connection of our skin. Something is really wrong. I remember what Liam said about using touch to understand others. It’s too powerful. It’s too upsetting and heartbreaking to know that someone I love is so deeply hurt, and that she doesn’t even trust me enough to tell me why. I know that it’s my fault, and I need to prove that I care about her all over again. I need to be strong for her—today more than any other day.

Sliding closer to my older sister, I encircle her body in a cozy hug. I rest my head on her shoulder. “Fine. Let’s just hang out here by the toilet! It’s really comfortable here on the cold hard ground. In the years to come, we will often reminisce about this special day, and how you spent the entire morning puking and crying on the toilet.”

“I hate you,” she mumbles, but when her shoulders shake again, it’s with laughter. “You’re so stupid, Helen.”

I am surprised when she turns toward me and hugs me back fiercely.

“I missed you,” she mumbles into my shirt. “You stupid jerk.”

For a moment, I just sit with her on the ground and hold her. I run my hand over her hair, and it feels as soft and silky as ever—I wonder what color it is at the moment? Her body begins to relax, and the tension leaves her shoulders. I feel relieved, like a great crisis has been averted. I also feel somewhat…  maternal. Tears spring to my eyes as I acknowledge that it’s my job to take over Mom’s duties in this family. I should have been here to take care of both Carmen and Dad. But instead, I was weak and selfish. I can’t be that way anymore. 

“You need to get some water and eat something,” I tell Carmen, pulling out of the hug and rising to my feet. I reach down to carefully tug on her arms to coax her into standing. “Come on! It’s your wedding day. Isn’t it going to take several hours to get your hair and makeup done?”

“Only four,” she says tiredly as she struggles to stand. She leans on me for support. “Hey, Helen—can you bring me one of those cupcakes Dad got for you? He wouldn’t let me touch them yesterday, and I was trying to stay away from anything that might jeopardize me fitting into my dress. But I could really use a pick-me-up right about now.”

“Um,” I say guiltily, looking down at the ground.

“Helen?” Carmen asks in horror. “Please tell me you didn’t…”

“I ate all the cupcakes.”

“Fuck you!” she roars, with the bellow of a great beast about to trample a small city.

I flinch, a little bit worried that she’s going to tackle me to begin an all-out brawl. We might be grown women now, and we might try our best to act the way we should, but we had more than a few physical fights when we were younger. They were always great fun. A good rough-and-tumble was always therapeutic in letting off steam. If she needs one now, I am more than happy to oblige—and to take most of the punches so that her face can remain flawless for the wedding photographs.

Carmen growls at me angrily, but she quickly
breaks down into laughter. “All of them? Seriously, you ate
all
of them?”

“Sorry,” I say sheepishly, and I feel a blush staining my cheeks.

“Psh, whatever,” she says in frustration. I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. I know that she isn’t really angry, and that she’s feeling a bit better.

“You smell disgusting,” I tell her, wrinkling my nose, “it’s an interesting odor that’s somewhere between manure and wet dog. You better take a shower, or your fiancé might change his mind and marry someone who
isn’t
covered in vomit.”

Carmen giggles and moves away from me to turn on the bath. “Thanks for coming, Hellie,” she says softly. “This wedding stuff has been so stressful, and I’m just a pile of nerves. I really needed my sister.”

“Are your eyes closed?” I ask her nervously, grasping the hem of my shirt.

“Of course! Just hurry up, we don’t have all day,” Carmen says with annoyance.

I make a face as I quickly tug off my shirt and slide out of my jeans. I reach for the bridesmaid dress, and grasp it by the shoulder straps before stepping into the garment. I wiggle it up my body, and slip my hands through the armholes before reaching behind me for the zipper. It slides up easily. I move around a little, and the dress feels light and airy, and quite comfortable. “Okay!” I say happily. “You can look now.”

“The dress fits,” Carmen says with annoyance, “but you lied to me. I thought you said you had a boyfriend.”

“What?” I said nervously. “I do.”

“Then why aren’t your legs shaved? And why are you wearing
granny
panties?”

“You said your eyes were closed!” I exclaim in horror, covering my body modestly. “And these aren’t granny panties—they’re comfortable,
normal
underwear!”

“Why did you lie?” Carmen demands. “I’m going to have to set you up with someone…”

“No!” I shout, putting my hands up in a gesture meant to halt her. “Liam’s coming a little later, I swear. You’ll meet my boyfriend, and you’ll see that he really exists! He’s just super nice, and he knows that it’s difficult for me to shave my legs, being blind and all—so he doesn’t mind if I don’t shave in the winter. It is winter, you know.”

“Do
not
bullshit me, little sister!” Carmen says sharply. I imagine her pointing a finger at me accusingly. “You only ever blame your blindness when you’re trying to elicit pity to distract someone from the topic at hand.”

Damn. She knows me really well. I had forgotten that. A small smile touches my lips. “Okay, I’ll tell you the truth,” I say earnestly. “Liam and I—we’re doing the long-distance thing. He’s a doctor, and he’s super busy doing research at the hospital. I need my alone time to work on my books—so it works out really well! We only see each other once every few weeks. It keeps things exciting—builds anticipation.”

“Ohhh,” she says, accepting this. “That makes sense. So you
do
shave your legs and wear thongs once in a while?”

“Sure,” I say awkwardly. “I mean, my lingerie probably isn’t as nice as yours. A little touch of lace here and there.” I shrug.

“Good grief. Your poor doctor must be bored out of his mind,” Carmen says with pity. She moves over to her dresser and begins pulling out drawers. Finally finding a satisfactory undergarment, she tosses it at me.

“Ow.” The tiny thong hits me squarely in the eye. I am not happy about this. There must have been small jewels or metal charms attached to it, for my cheek is actually stinging from the impact. “If I had known that you were going to throw your dominatrix panties at me, I might have reconsidered coming here,” I tell her, rubbing my sore face.

“Men are visual creatures,” Carmen lectures me. “You need to keep them interested with pleasurable aesthetics. I know that you’re obviously
not
a visual person…”

“That doesn’t mean you can panty-bomb my eye,” I say grouchily. “I might not be able to see, but it still hurts!”

“Just put those on,” Carmen commands me. “They’ll look better under that dress than the outdated garbage you’re wearing.”

The novelty underwear is sitting on my bare toes, and I wiggle them apprehensively. “I don’t think so. It’s not really my style.”

“Fine,” Carmen says. “Then I’m calling Brad and telling him that you are going to be his date. Since you obviously don’t have any real men in your life.”

“I do!” I protest. I feel tingles of shame spreading through my chest at how correct she actually is. “I swear, Carmen. Stop embarrassing me. This makes me uncomfortable.”

“Then call your boyfriend,” she challenges me. She moves over to the bed where my discarded clothes are, and pulls my phone out of the pocket of my jeans. She advances on me and shoves my phone against my stomach. “Call him! Call him so I now so I can see that he exists.”

I make a sound of annoyance and exasperation. “Really?”

“Really,” she says with severity. “Or else.”

Sighing, I resign myself to making the phone call. I feel stupid. This whole situation is very juvenile and high-school, but I need to protect myself from Carmen’s whims and fancies. I know that she has always been a magnet for trouble, and has a tendency to drag me down into her mayhem. I do not want to be set up with anyone. I am terrified at the prospect. While Liam is also a stranger, I have somehow grown to trust him a tiny bit—enough to think that he might be mostly a decent human being.

After what I’ve been through, I have made it a personal policy to always choose the devil I know.

However, standing there with the phone in my hand makes me a little queasy. I have never spoken to Liam on the phone before, but I will need to be convincing in my lie. I will need to act like we have been dating for a while. I can feel my face growing red at the realization that I have dragged my new
doctor
into this infantile charade. I reassure myself that it won’t scare him away or jeopardize my potential treatment—after all, he is friends with Owen. His tolerance for juvenile must be extremely high.

“I knew it,” Carmen says triumphantly. “There isn’t anyone. You’re just standing there with your phone and looking like an idiot. I’m calling Brad.”

“No, no,” I say firmly. “I was just feeling shy for a moment. I don’t really like talking on the phone much, these days.” Taking a deep breath, I press the circular button on my phone. “Dial Liam.”

“Calling
Liam! Please stand by.”

I bite my lip as I wait for the phone to begin ringing. It feels like an eternity. And then, once it is ringing, it feels like it’s happening far too quickly. The ringing noises come at me like gunshots I can’t possibly dodge, and I try my best not to flinch at each one. When a voice finally answers, it’s more masculine than I remember and ragged with sleep.

“Hello?” he says with a yawn.

“Hi honey, how are you feeling?” I ask with concern, quickly getting into the character of a loving girlfriend. I press my hand over the phone and whisper to Carmen. “He’s been a bit under the weather.”

“I’m good,” he responds in a husky tone. “Helen? Is that you? Your voice sounds so sweet over the phone. Say something else. I could listen to you for hours.”

I feel an odd little ache in the pit of my stomach. I know we’re just play-acting, but it feels more real than anything I’ve had in years. “I’m beginning to regret coming home,” I tell him. “My sister is trying to pimp me out to strange men, and I’m getting assaulted with a blitzkrieg of scandalous intimate apparel.”

“Let me talk to him!” Carmen says, reaching for the phone.

I step away, keeping it out of her grasp. I am worried she’ll ask him something about me that he doesn’t know, and figure out that I’m lying.

“Sounds brutal,” Liam responds with another yawn. “Do you still want me to come to the wedding? I found an old tux in the back of my closet.”

“No, babe!” I say nervously, while dancing away from Carmen’s grabby hands. “If you’re still feeling tired, you should get some rest. You’ve been working so hard.”

I hear him chuckling on the other end of the line. “I’m guessing your sister is there? It’s no trouble, Helen—I don’t mind coming to the wedding. I’m actually really excited to see you again! I love spending time with you, and I’d like to do it again as soon as possible.”

“I—I miss you, too?” I respond in confusion. For a moment, I am not sure whether he actually meant what he said, or if it’s somehow part of our ploy. I forget to move away from my sister’s grasp, and she manages to pry the phone from my distracted hands.

“Hello!” she says into the phone. “Is there a real person on the other end of this line?”

I move forward to listen to his responses, but Carmen darts away briskly, and I’m not in an aggressive enough mood to follow her and fight to retrieve my phone.

“Wow!” Carmen says in wonder. “An actual man with an actual penis! You do have a penis, right? And it’s healthy? Describe it to me.”

“Oh my god,” I say in horror, moving to sit on the bed and lifting a pillow to smother my face.

“Lovely. I’m so glad to hear that,” Carmen says with approval. “It’s great to meet you, Liam. I’m Helen’s sister—also known as the bride. Am I going to be seeing you later?” There is a pause as Carmen waits for the answer. “Awesome! The ceremony starts at 4 PM, so just arrive a little before that. Do you know where the house is?” When Carmen pauses again, her voice grows ominous and dark. “Wonderful. Now Liam, I have a few serious questions for you. What are your intentions with my sister?”

I remove the pillow from my face, my eyebrows lifting in puzzlement. Is Carmen being protective of me? I have never seen this side of her, or heard this tone in her voice. It warms my heart to think that my big sister could actually be my big sister for a few minutes.

“I see,” Carmen says thoughtfully. “Well, you sound like a tolerable guy. Please be good to Helen. She deserves the best. She’s a really sweet, loyal, and intelligent girl. Anyone who can’t see that is blind—far blinder than she is.”

Warmth spreads through my chest at my sister’s kind words. “Carm,” I say softly, getting a little choked up. I had forgotten her ability to go from being a shallow, mindless ditz to a sincere and loving human being quite suddenly and without warning.

“Also,” Carmen adds, “I apologize for the bleak state of my sister’s wardrobe. You’ll be happy to know that I’m hooking her up with some irresistible new lingerie that should really spice up your sex life.”

“Carmen!” I shriek, launching myself off the ground and tackling her. I wrestle my phone away from her hastily while she laughs, and I growl. Her sentimental mood didn’t last for very long. Stepping away, I press the phone against my face, huffing furiously. “I’m sorry about that, Liam.” I am relieved to hear that he is laughing.

“Your sister sounds like a female Owen,” he says in amusement. “It’s too bad neither of them are single—we could hook them up. They would be instant soul mates.”

I am surprised at the pleasant thought. “Wow, you’re right. They would really hit it off.”

“Oh, well,” he says in disappointment. “Maybe in another lifetime!”

My face softens. “Maybe,” I agree with a small smile. In the brief time that I have known him, Liam has made some rather whimsical and philosophical comments. I imagine him being a lonely person who spent a lot of time with his nose in books as a child. He seems so thoughtful and romantic—especially for someone in the sciences. I wish I had met him under different circumstances. I wish he wasn’t my doctor, and I wish this wasn’t a fake date.

“So, I made some phone calls. I can get you in for diagnostic tests on Thursday,” he tells me. “I want to try to expedite the procedure as much as possible.”

“Sure,” I tell him, my stomach flip-flopping in excitement. “That sounds good.”

“But forgive me—I shouldn’t talk about medical stuff today. We should just focus on having fun at your sister’s wedding.” His voice takes on a roguish and guttural quality. “Are you going to wear something sexy for me under your clothes,
kitten?”

I press a hand over my lips to try to contain my laugher from bubbling out. “You know it,
tiger.”
I hang up quickly so that he doesn’t hear me dissolve into giggles at the nicknames.