Thea at Sixteen (11 page)

“It's getting to her, too,” Kip said. “I hardly see Dani anymore. God only knows where she's spending her nights.”

“Does she see Gina?” Thea asked.

Kip shook his head. “Part of me wants to force her to come, for her sake more than Gina's. But most of me just doesn't care. I won't be around when Dani starts feeling guilty. She can deal with it then, all by herself.”

Thea wished she could reach out and comfort Kip, but there was nothing she could say that he wanted to hear. She kept walking down the hallway, and tried not to look at him. “Do the doctors think Gina'll get any stronger?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“The doctors are jerks,” Kip declared. “They insist on talking to Mom, who only takes in half of what they say, and she tells me half of that and then I'm supposed to explain it to her. As far as I can see, they're worried about Gina picking up another serious infection. She has no resistance at this point. If she doesn't get sick, then I don't know, maybe another three months, maybe more. If she does, it'll be a matter of days. I'd really like her to be alive for Christmas. Dammit, is that asking too much? One more Christmas. I have money this year, I've been saving, and I'd like to give her something, the perfect Christmas present. Gina's entitled. She's never had anything her entire damned life except sickness and pain, and just for once I'd like to see her eyes light up, I want to see her happy about something. I don't even know what to get her, but it'll be perfect. I don't care what it costs. I'd rather spend the money on that one perfect present than on the biggest damn funeral in town.”

“Oh, Kip,” Thea said.

“What?” Kip said. “I said the
f
word? Funeral? We're going to have to have one, you know. It's a lot more in Gina's future than some stupid Christmas present that's supposed to make up for her whole stupid life.”

“Do you want me to go shopping with you?” Thea asked.

“For what?” Kip replied. “Coffins?”

Thea rubbed her forehead. “For Christmas presents,” she said. “I'd like to get Gina something, too.”

“Sure,” Kip said. “If she's around in December, we'll go shopping together.”

“She will be,” Thea promised. “This may sound dumb, but I just can't see a kid dying right before Christmas.”

“You're right,” Kip said. “It does sound dumb.”

Thea resisted an impulse to kick him. Instead she began walking faster and moved a couple of steps away from him.

“I'm sorry,” Kip said, grabbing her arm to slow her down. “I am, Thea. It'll be good to go shopping with you. You'll have a much better idea of what to get than I would. And I appreciate all you've done for Gina. Your visits are just about the only thing she has to look forward to, and you've never let her down. I know it can't be easy on you, either, and I've been taking you for granted. Actually that's a compliment, but you might not see it that way. Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Thea replied. She yearned to take Kip in her arms, hold him, comfort him. Instead she smiled. “Gina'll get better,” she said. “I don't mean she'll get well, but she'll get stronger. And you'll give her the most beautiful Christmas present ever.”

Kip nodded. “I'll get you something, too,” he said. “Gina and I will figure out just the right present for you, and it'll be from both of us. Gina'll like that.”

“I'll like it, too,” Thea said. “Kip, you know you can call me if you need me.”

“I know,” he said. “And I'm grateful.”

“All right,” Thea said. “Well, I'd better get going. I have a lot of homework to do. That math test scares me.”

“You'll ace it,” Kip said. “See you on Thursday.”

“Thursday,” Thea said. She opened the door and walked out into the crisp October day. She didn't know how much more she could take. Each visit with Gina was a small agony, and seeing Kip in so much pain only made things worse. She knew she should feel enriched by being a Friendly Visitor, grateful for the spiritual lessons that befriending Gina had taught her. But for one awful glorious moment, Thea hated everything about the Friendly Visitors, and wished that all those who'd involved her in the program would have to endure half of what she'd been through in the past month.

She walked down the hill toward her house, and was shocked to find Sybil half a block ahead of her. “Sybil?” she called. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hi, Thea,” Sybil said. “I'm collecting candy wrappers.”

“Of course,” Thea said. “How could I not have known.”

Sybil stuck her tongue out at her. It was such a wonderful healthy twelve-year-old thing to do that Thea almost hugged her. “It's for my refund offer,” Sybil explained. “I got the form from the supermarket bulletin board. If you collect one hundred candy wrappers from the right brands, they'll send you twenty bucks.”

“You're kidding,” Thea said. “Twenty dollars?”

Sybil nodded. “They expect you to buy all the candy,” she said. “And save the wrappers and mail them back in. Only instead of buying the candy, I've been looking for wrappers on the sidewalks. I love litter. I've been taking walks for a week now, and I'm already up to nineteen wrappers, and I have until December first to find the other eighty-one.”

“Are you going to use the twenty for Christmas presents?” Thea asked.

“Are you crazy?” Sybil said. “I'm saving it.”

“For what?” Thea asked.

“For emergencies,” Sybil said. “So the next time Nicky goes belly-up, I'll have some cash reserves. I'm not going to waste good money on stupid Christmas presents.”

“First of all, Nicky isn't going to go belly-up,” Thea said. “We're in great shape from Harrison, and he has two good deals going here already. And secondly, there's nothing stupid about Christmas presents. I always get you something nice, and so does Evvie, and so do Nicky and Megs. You're old enough to start giving us nice things back.”

“Nicky's getting Megs a piano,” Sybil replied. “And Megs'll get Nicky something expensive, too, a yacht maybe, or some fancy watch. They always give each other great stuff when Nicky's in the money, so they don't need anything from me. Evvie has Sam to give her things, and Sam has money, So it'll be something nice, too. The stuff Claire wants, I can't afford, so there's no point worrying about her.”

“That leaves me,” Thea pointed out.

“I'll get you something,” Sybil said. Her eyes lit up and the next thing Thea knew, she was running down the street yelling, “Hey, mister!”

Thea followed Sybil, not knowing what had excited her so. Maybe Sybil had witnessed a bank robbery, and would get a reward for stopping the thief. That should give her a healthy cash reserve.

“Don't throw out that candy wrapper!” Sybil cried, and Thea considered dying on the spot.

“I was going to put it in the trash can,” the man protested. “See.” He pointed to the can, and made an elaborate gesture of disposing of the wrapper properly.

“I need that wrapper,” Sybil said. “It's an Mmm Mmm bar. That'll be number twenty.”

“Number twenty what?” the man asked.

“For my refund offer,” Sybil said. “Now all I'll need is eighty more and I can earn twenty dollars. Assuming you'll give it to me. If you don't, I'll take it out of the trash can, but I'd really rather you just handed it over. Do you mind?”

“I can live with it,” the man said, and handed the wrapper to Sybil. “Didn't your mother teach you not to take candy from strangers.”

“It isn't candy,” Sybil said. “It's a candy wrapper. Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” the man said. “Are both of you collecting wrappers?” He looked pointedly at Thea, who turned bright red.

“Only my sister,” Thea said. “She's a collector.”

“Every family needs one,” the man said. “My name is Peter Grass. “I'm a reporter for the
Sentinel
.”

“We get the
Sentinel
,” Sybil told him. “It's a good paper.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Grass said. “You know, if you need the extra money, they're always looking for paperboys. Or girls.”

“We don't need the money,” Thea said quickly. “Do we, Sybil?”

“No, we're rich,” Sybil said. “I just like doing refunding because it's like getting something for nothing.”

“That's how the rich get richer,” Mr. Grass declared. “Do many of your friends refund also, Sybil?”

“We don't have any clubs, if that's what you mean,” Sybil said. “I know one kid who collects bottles for the refunds on them, but I don't think that's fair.”

“Why not?” Mr. Grass asked. Thea sighed. She wasn't sure if it was safe to leave Sybil in the arms of the press, but on the other hand, she really wanted to get home before Sybil had a chance to philosophize.

“Because poor people collect bottles,” Sybil said, not giving Thea the time to decide on a course of action. “And they really need the money. I figure I'm not hurting anybody by collecting candy wrappers, because most people just drop them on the sidewalks like litter. Not that you were going to. But poor people don't know about the refund offer, and they probably wouldn't have a place to keep the wrappers until they get the whole hundred. That's a lot of candy wrappers to carry if you're homeless. But bottles, they can just collect that day and turn in at night, so it's quick money for them. It must be awful being homeless. What do you think?”

“I think that's an interesting attitude,” Mr. Grass said. “What's your full name, Sybil?”

“Sybil Ward Sebastian,” Sybil replied. “Ward's a family name, like Julia Ward Howe. My mother's from Boston.”

“Have you been living in Briarton long?” Mr. Grass asked.

“Just a couple of months,” Sybil said. “But I really like it. Only it's too clean. Not enough people litter, and a lot of times when they do, they leave the wrong kind of candy wrappers. I'm collecting Mmm Mmms, and Mmm Mmms with Almonds, and Wattabars, and Sweet Somethings, and Yummie Juniors. I have twenty and only one of them is a Yummie Junior. Have you ever had one? They really stink.”

“I don't think Mr. Grass is interested anymore,” Thea said, hoping that was true. “We'd better get home now.”

“Sybil Ward Sebastian,” Mr. Grass said. “It's been a pleasure meeting you.”

“Thank you,” Sybil said. “Hey, I have an idea. Do the other reporters eat candy bars? I could go to your office and collect the wrappers if they do.”

“Sybil!” Thea screeched. “You'll have to excuse her,” she said. “She's a straight-A student in obsessive-compulsiveness.”

Mr. Grass laughed. “Just one more thing,” he said. “What are you going to do with the money, once you get your hundred wrappers?”

“I'm going to use it for the poor,” Sybil replied.

“We really have to be going,” Thea said. She grabbed Sybil and pulled her away before she started ransacking the garbage can. When they were a safe distance from Mr. Grass, Thea turned to Sybil and said, “Use it for the poor?”

“Sure,” Sybil said. “Me. When Nicky flops next time, I'll be poor.”

“You're worse than Claire,” Thea said.

“I just believe in being prepared,” Sybil replied. “I'm going to stay out and collect more wrappers. I want to have thirty by Friday.”

“Be my guest,” Thea said. She walked home marveling at Sybil's nerve. If Sybil was after a hundred wrappers, she'd be sure to get them, probably before nightfall.

Thea walked in through the back door and found her parents kissing in front of the sink. They didn't seem to notice that she'd come in, so she walked back to the door and slammed it loudly. They broke their embrace, but Nicky traced Megs's face with his fingers, and Megs continued to stare into Nicky's eyes.

“I'm home,” Thea said.

“So we heard,” Nick said. “How was your day?”

“Hard,” Thea replied. She went to the refrigerator and got an apple. Gina is dying, she wanted to say, and I never know what to say to Kip, and Sybil just made a fool of herself in public. But Nicky didn't want to hear any of those things, so she bit into the apple instead.

“I had a great day,” Nick said. “The bank is very interested in financing the factory-conversion project, if I can swing just one more investor, and Ed Chambers has all but agreed to the plan.”

“That's great, Nicky,” Thea said, taking another bite. Ordinarily, she loved hearing about Nicky's schemes, but ordinarily she didn't spend an hour watching a little girl die.

“I've been thinking,” Nick said, and he took Megs's hand and entwined his fingers with hers. “About Thanksgiving. What is it, a month away?”

“Give or take,” Meg said, smiling at him.

“Why not have a really big Thanksgiving this year,” Nick said. “It seems to me we have more than enough to be thankful about. Briarton's already a big success, and Evvie's doing well at college, and this house is turning into a showcase, thanks to you, and I feel like telling the world how happy I am. What do you think?”

Megs beamed. “A really big Thanksgiving dinner?” she asked. “Who could we invite?”

“Let's tell Evvie to bring Sam here,” Nick said. “She'll like that. And we could invite Clark, too. He can have Thea's room, and Thea and Evvie can move in with Claire and Sybil. Sam can sleep on the sofa bed in my office.”

“Do you really want Clark?” Meg asked.

“Sure,” Nick said. “It'd be good for him to see me prosperous. He'll worry about you less.”

“Could we invite Aunt Grace also?” Meg asked. “If we're going to do a true family Thanksgiving, we ought to invite her, too.”

Nick grimaced, but then he grinned. “Why not,” he said. “It'll be a cold day in hell before she's willing to come. Let's invite her just to drive her crazy.”