The Good Sister: Part One (4 page)

“Trinity, come out here and say hello,” my mom insisted.

I started mangling the bottom hem of my shirt. In fact, I was twisting it into a tight knot. I brushed back my curls from my face, and tried to catch my breath. I moved forward only to find I was watching my feet.
Were they attached?
I couldn’t feel them, but I was moving into the living room. It felt like I’d crossed the desert. My throat dry, parched, and my lungs protesting the fact I couldn’t gain air.

“Hey, Trinity,” Reid greeted.

I came to an abrupt stop. Kept my chin down, and gazed at the floor. There were patterns within the wood grains of the hardwood.
A face. A lopsided dog,
then I realized I didn’t answer him. “Hi,” I squeaked. The sound was almost inaudible.

Familiar anxiety kicked in, followed by the slight shimmer around the edges of my vision. I worried I might have a full-blown panic attack.

Reid extended out his hand. With the knowledge I would have to shake his proffered hand my hand came forward. It shook like a tender leaf. When Reid took my hand heat seized my arm. My throat, cheeks, and ears flashed hot. In my mind I knew I was blazing candy apple red. I pulled my hand back. I’d never touched a man before.
Odd.
Something else was taking over the anxiety attack. Something I did not recognize.

“Sorry,” Reid said. I could only guess he saw my discomfort.

Bentley shook her head. “Don’t worry.” I turned to look at my sister. She gave me her patronizing grin. “Mouse…” I hated the name
mouse
, and I detested being as scared as one. “Can you please look up and say hi to our guest, properly?”

Reid waived his hand, dismissively. “It’s fine.”

“Trinity,” my mother said in that corrective tone of hers.

I looked up. Saw the beautiful face of Reid Addison through my curtain of golden curls. I gave a forced bent smile, and pushed my glasses up my nose with my index finger while I gazed at him rather pathetically, I’m sure.

“Sorry, hello, Reid.”

“Hello.” Reid turned to Bentley. “Let me help you with the rest of the boxes.”

Great. He thinks I’m a freak.

My sister and Reid headed back to the car. I scurried into the bedroom and once again perched myself at the window.

“You and your sister are very different,” Reid commented.

“Yes,” Bentley agreed. “I’m sorry, but she’s much better than she used to be.”

“Really?”

Bentley reached for another box tucked into the trunk of the old puke green Toyota.

“My sister is a very intelligent and sweet person, but she suffers from a lot of fears. She’s been in counseling since my father died and, well, at least she will leave the house now.”

Reid’s expression turned questioning. “Leave the house?”

“Yes. She has agoraphobia, and has been closed off from the world since she was ten.”

Scrubbing the back of his neck with his hand, Reid said, “Isn’t agoraphobia the fear of open spaces?”

“Yes,” Bentley admitted. “Trinity pretty much stays to herself. My Mom and I have sort of modified our lives in hope of helping her.”

“Huh…” Reid muttered. He grabbed another box from the trunk. “You said your father died, I’m sorry.”

Bentley twisted a piece of hair behind her ear. Nodded. “Yes, thank you for the condolences, but it has been a long time.”

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story, Reid. And one better left untold, I think.”

Bentley turned. The sun hit her auburn hair, setting it blazing and highlighting the shimmer of deep red within it.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m throwing a small get-together tonight. Come over and I will introduce you to some of my friends.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You do that. And in case you’re interested, seven might be a good time to stop by.”

Bentley made her way to our new bedroom. It was painfully obvious I was watching Reid make his way back to the main house.

“Trinity, you shouldn’t spy on people,” Bentley said.

“I’m not spying.”

“Ah huh … well, it looks like you are spying on Reid.”

“Are you going to the party tonight?” I asked, turning to see my sister standing in the doorway.

“You also eavesdrop,” she said.

“So what? Are you going?”

Bentley sighed as if she were bored with the prospect of Reid. “I may go. I haven’t decided yet. I don’t want him to think I’m too eager or too easy.”

“But you want to go, don’t you? You liked him.”

Bentley rolled her eyes. “Boys like a bit of a challenge. A girl who’s not so easily read or easily obtained. Mystery is a good thing.” Bentley walked forward and swiped some curls from my face. “Besides, I have a feeling Reid is the kind of guy who gets what he wants, so maybe he should see what it’s like to have to wait and work for what he wants.”

Taking in my sister’s wise advice, I nodded. I wanted to be more like my sister, bold, daring, confident, but most of all beautiful.

“But you like him, right?” I asked.

Bentley shrugged her shoulders. “What’s not to like? He’s gorgeous, seems to have a good personality, and he is rich. But I’m not looking for anything permanent.” Bentley whipped around and proceeded to fling off her flip-flops. “Reid strikes me as the type who’s not interested in a serious relationship.” Bentley changed the subject. “Trinity, we need to do something about your hair. I think it’s time to deep condition it again.”

“Who cares,” I said, sourly. “It’s not like I will be going anywhere.”

“But you will be seeing Reid from time to time. You don’t want him to think you don’t take care of yourself, do you?”

She has a point
.

“I guess we can condition it,” I conceded.

Bentley and I spent the day putting our room together. I chuckled under my breath as I looked at Bentley’s side of the room compared to my side. Even in such trivial things such as tchotchkes, artwork, and bed coverings, my sister was bold, beyond daring with deep purples, hot pinks, zigzags, stripes, dots…. While my side was plain white and gray with no patterns to confuse the eye. I knew without a doubt my side of the room was beyond boring, almost institutional looking.

I glanced at the clock to see the time. 8:00 p.m. I knew my sister was going to hold fast to her conviction that Reid not get what he want so easily. I smiled at no one, proud of my sister, yet somewhat envious of the life Bentley led. I doubted I would ever be invited to a party, let alone have the guts to turn down the offer to attend one. I realized I was envious a lot, but I loved my sister, and knew Reid was in for it when it came to Bentley. Reid may not know it, but he had definitely met his match in Bentley Ann Winslow.

“Come on,” Bentley said. She took my hand and tugged me into the bathroom.

“What are we doing, B?”

“We are going to deep condition that hair, pluck those eyebrows, and give you a facial.”

I sighed and blew out my cheeks puffed fat with air.

“Stop, it will be fun,” Bentley assured, chucking my chin.

“No matter what you do, Bentley, I will never be any more than I already am.”

“Trinity, you are beautiful. You hide it behind all of the fear and all of this hair,” she said, lifting some of my unruly curls. “Your curls are almost to your waist.”

“I don’t want to cut my hair,” I said.

“And you hide behind these glasses.” Bentley removed them from my face. “You have beautiful eyes which no one ever gets to see, and your face, your complexion is flawless.” Bentley grabbed a hand mirror. She placed it into my hands. “Look,” she instructed.

“I don’t like to look.”

“Look anyway,” Bentley insisted. “See how deep green your eyes are? Do you see the cat-like curve of your eye, those long lashes?”

“I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do, Trinity. Look at your high cheekbones, the gentle curve of them, the small point to your chin, the fullness of your lips.”

“You are the one with beautiful lips, Bentley.”

“You have the same lips, just look.”

If I wanted any peace and quiet I would agree. “I guess,” I lied.

“And even though my eyes are green your eyes are even deeper, like jewels, emerald,” Bentley said.

“Bentley, I’m never going to be you.”

“I don’t want you to be me, but I want you to be you.”

“And who is that?”

“Trinity, I love you. You are my sister, and I want so much more for you. When you were young you were full of spunk, full of life. Your smile would light up the room. Now we are lucky to even see you smile, and if you do smile it’s like an artifact.”

“Artifact?”

“Yes, something which could be a real piece of art but it’s more like a manufactured article of the once real thing.”

I diverted my eyes, setting the mirror down onto the countertop.

“Trinity, I know you have been through some horrible things, but you have to find a way not to allow those things to keep you from living a life. Don’t let your fears strip you from all the joy there is to life. Don’t hide behind the fear, Trin. You didn’t die that day, dad did.”

“It’s not that easy,” I confessed, and curled my knees up to my chest, curling into a ball on the vanity chair.

“I know,” Bentley said. “I know, Trin.”

I woke that night, screaming, to find Bentley at my side, rubbing my back, calming my fears.

“Shh … it’s okay, Trin. It was a bad dream,” Bentley assured in her smooth calming voice. I clung to the safety of my sister before taking in a deep breath. “Don’t worry,” Bentley whispered, “you are safe.” I focused on my surroundings. “There you go, just breathe. What was the dream about this time?”

“Black shadows.”

Bentley patted my cheek. “You are safe. Try to get some rest, okay?”

I shook my head in agreement, sunk back down beneath the covers, and watched as the pale silhouette of my sister moved back over to her own bed and slipped beneath the sheet.

“B?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to Georgia when the summer is over?”

“Yes, Trinity.”

“Will you send me pictures from college?”

“Sure, why?”

“I would like to see where you are, see what Georgia looks like.”

I would never see the world, never travel, never get to see the beauty of places, of people, of things because I couldn’t get past all of my fears. I’d come to grips with the fact I was stuck in a never-ending nightmare of which I seemed to never fully escape.

“I will send you a lot of pictures, Trinity.”

“Thanks, B. I love you.”

“I love you too, mouse.”

In the morning I woke tired, but found, to no surprise, myself alone. Bentley was gone, bed made, and more than likely having fun. I went to my closet, pulled out some denim shorts and my usual oversized T-shirts. I always wore two. I made my way into the bathroom to take a shower.

I thought about all my homework that still needed to be done. I had a research paper due for my Science class on the deforestation of the Amazon rainforest. A test to complete for Civics class. And a three thousand word paper for my English Composition class. I was forced to take my high school courses over the Internet because I couldn’t be around crowds. I imagined the rooms full of people, changing classes to find more rooms full of people, strangers. I could hear the noise, the chaos; see the press of all those people, strangers, as I passed them in the halls. I heard them laughing at me, felt them looking at me.... Just the thought caused a deep shiver to flow down my spine. I closed my eyes, trying to think of something else. A calming image. I thought about Reid’s eyes, the silver color, and actually felt my face turn into a smile as I stepped into the shower.

I lifted my chin up into the hot spray. I wondered if this would be a good day, something I wondered every day.

“Trinity?” I heard my mother’s voice outside the blue shower curtain that was plastered with bright yellow rubber duckies. Another Bentley contribution to decoration.

“What, Mom?”

“Your sister and I are going to the grocery store. Will you be okay?”

The question of whether or not I would be okay was really not the issue, since there was no way in Hades I’d be going to the grocery store. I would stay home. I always stayed home, so I would have to be okay even if I wasn’t.

“Sure, Mom. I’m just going to do homework today.”

“All right, love. We’ll be back in a couple of hours. You have the cell number if you need me.”

“Okay,” I agreed, and sunk into my warm wet cocoon of heat and peaceable solitude, allowing the spray of the water to make music upon my skin.

I came out of the shower when the hot water was gone. I rambled around our new little home, grabbing a bowl and some snack crackers. I poured a few of the crispy orange colored fishes into the yellow Fiestaware bowl. One of the few items my mother actually kept from our old life. I glanced up to see the curtain, checkered blue, blow in and out of the window. The slight sound of music wafted in. I sat the bowl down on the counter and walked over to the window. The sound was there, but I couldn’t see where the music might be coming from. From this vantage point I saw a rose garden.