Liberty At Last (The Liberty Series) (15 page)

“Jesus, Liberty, get a room,” said a familiar voice, chiding me, and I turned my head so abruptly that John was suddenly stuck kissing the side of my face.

I couldn’t speak. There she was, all of a sudden, appearing out of the crowd on the road next to me. John brushed his hand briefly across my face and released me; I heard him talking to the driver, paying him. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My heart stopped. My breathing stopped. It was my sister, right in front of me — in a black tank top, jeans and flip flops.

“You cut your hair,” I finally said.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “And you lost, like, thirty pounds, and have a hot older boyfriend you can’t keep your hands off of.” She approached me slowly.

“Hi,” she said, cautiously coming closer. I could see her eyes were filling up with tears.

“Hi,” I said, and I had to hold my breath so I didn’t start bawling.

“Liberty,” she said, and the tears spilling over, “I am so sorry.” She exhaled and tears were all over her face and her nose started running. She hugged me to her. I was an ugly crier, but Sasha was even worse. Her face got red and puffy in about a minute, and when she cried hard, like she was starting to do now, her breath came out in little sobby puffs. “I. Am. So. Sorry,” she sobbed out, wetly, into my hair.

Hurt shot through me, to my heart, when I realized just how much I’d missed her. How alone I’d really been without her. “It’s okay,” I said, as I looked at the ground and started crying, too. John came over and grabbed my arm and hers, gently separating us and steering us towards the sidewalk, away from the crowd. He left us there and went and spoke to a woman in line. He came back with a package of tissues, which he silently handed to us before he stepped back on the sidewalk, giving us our space.

Sasha and I both blew our noses loudly. That was another thing we had in common — not only were we both ugly criers, we were loud nose-blowers.

“He seems nice,” Sasha said, looking over at John.

“He’s wonderful,” I said, wiping my face.

“Should we just get this out of the way? Get it all out there?” she asked, looking at me. “Or should we calm down and have dinner first?”

“Dinner,” I said, sniffling.

She came over to me again and hugged me to her, patting my hair. “You’re too skinny,” she said. “Let’s get in line and go eat. We can cry later.”

“Okay,” I said. We walked, arm in arm, over to where John stood. “John,” I said, “I’d like to meet my sister Sasha.”

“It’s a pleasure,” John said, shaking her hand and smiling at her.

“It’s nice to meet you in person,” she said.

“Let’s go get in line,” John said. “You girls need to eat.”

“I should have worn bigger pants,” Sasha moaned, sliding herself into the booth next to me. We were back at the
Avignon
, in the bar. John and Sean had politely excused themselves after dinner.

“I’m going back there someday, and I’m wearing sweats so I can eat every single thing that they put in front of me,” I said. The restaurant had been a revelation. Skillet fried chicken, collard greens, fried catfish, spinach lasagna and barbecued ribs. Fried green tomatoes with bacon, and biscuits —
lots
of biscuits. And strawberry shortcake.

“It hurts. Pretty bad — but it was totally worth it,” she said.

I’d ordered some wine and she’d ordered a Diet Coke. “You still don’t drink?” I asked.

“Nah,” she said, playing with her straw. “I can’t. Every time I try to, it just makes me think about Mom.”

I took a large sip of wine and hoped that she didn’t think I was an alcoholic, too. “Did you ever talk to the hospital?” I asked. “When she died?”

“Yeah, I did,” she said, studying her glass. “I just couldn’t make myself come down.”

I nodded. “I went to Vegas right after,” I said. “Things had gotten out of control with Ray, and I just couldn’t stay in Eugene anymore. I figured you wouldn’t come, anyway.”

Sasha exhaled and looked up at me. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough. I couldn’t handle it…but my baby sister. You poor girl. I left you all alone. And then I couldn’t face you afterwards.” Her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears again. “You kept sending emails,” she said, the tears spilling over. “I read them every day. I missed you so much. I felt so guilty about leaving you with such a mess, I couldn’t face you.”

She wiped her face and I shrugged. I’d dealt with it. It didn’t matter, now; I wouldn’t have left our mother, no matter what, even if Sasha had bothered to try to get me to come to Portland. And if Sasha had stayed, Ray probably would have tried to mess with her, too. As for afterwards…when I was in Vegas, emailing her everyday…well, I still hadn’t forgiven her for that.
One step at a time,
I told myself.

“Sasha,” I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I missed you, and it hurt when I didn’t hear from you, but we’re together now. That’s all that matters. You’re the only family I have left.”

She squeezed my hand back. “I’m going to text you and call you all the time,” she said. “I’m going to drive you nuts.”

“Perfect,” I said, smiling at her. “I could use a little nuts in my life right now.”
Which was actually the opposite of true. But what she didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt her.

“I was so happy when John got in touch with me, when he was first looking for you. I had to call my friend who’s a cop to have him checked out, before I would talk to him. He told me about your father.” She trailed off. “I’m so sorry he passed, Liberty. I’m so mad at mom for keeping him from you.”

“I know,” I said. “I don’t think she did it to be mean, though.” I looked at Sasha pleadingly. Sasha never had patience with my mother; she only saw her as a total fuck-up. “I think she put him in that big category of Things She Didn’t Want to Deal With,” I said.

“Like bills, laundry, and grocery shopping,” Sasha said. “I think Mom’s motto was:
squint at it until it goes away
. Or at least until you pass out.”

We both laughed at that — it was sad, but it was true. We talked about Mom for a while longer. I explained to Sasha what was happening before she died, how much she was using. Even though it was sad, it felt good to share the sadness with her; I felt like my burden was lifting, and I didn’t have to shoulder it alone ever again. Sasha loved our mother as much as I did. She just had a lower tolerance for human imperfection.

“So...what are you doing now? Are you going back with John?” she asked.

I nodded. “Well, he seems wonderful,” she said. “So at least something good came out of all this.”

“Yes. You’re right,” I said and smiled. “He’s amazing. I’ve never met anyone like him. But what about you?” I asked. I knew nothing about her life now.

“I just finished school,” she said, and smiled proudly. “I’m an x-ray technician now. I’m working at one of the big hospitals up in Portland.”

“Sasha! That’s great!” I said. I could picture her going to work every day, in her scrubs, with a travel mug full of coffee. It was probably the life she’s always wanted — predictable, orderly, with high standards. She probably worked with professionals who were capable and reliable — everything our family hadn’t been. She was where she needed to be.

“And do you have a boyfriend?” I asked, arching my eyebrow at her.

She shrugged and her face turned red. This is how you could tell we were sisters. “I’m dating someone,” she said, looking down. “He’s at the hospital, too. His name’s Rodney,” she said, laughing. “He’s really nice, but isn’t that a horrible name?”

“It’s better than ‘Rod,’ I guess,” I said, laughing too. “Because that could be embarrassing:
‘I love your rod, Rod. Yeah Rod, give it to me!’
” I fake yelled, being silly and laughing some more. Until I saw her staring at me with her mouth hanging open.

Oops.
I hadn’t meant to make sex jokes. Last time I saw Sasha, I wouldn’t have even known how.

“So obviously, you’ve slept with John,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Umm, yes,” I said. I could feel myself blush all the way up to my hairline. “I was probably the oldest virgin in the world,” I said, trying to explain myself. “And I was stripping in Vegas when I met him, so it had gotten completely ridiculous. Strippers can’t be virgins.”

“So…I take it it’s serious between you two?” She was looking at me closely.

“Serious?” I asked, not knowing how to proceed. I gratefully accepted the fresh glass of wine the waiter brought. I hadn’t ever talked about my relationship with him with anyone. I hadn’t had a friend around. It had all happened so fast. “I hope my drinking doesn’t bother you,” I said, trying to change the subject. “I actually really like wine — it’s relaxing. Not pass out relaxing, like Mom, but
relaxing
relaxing.”

“Okay, stop trying to change the subject,” she said, slipping into her bossy big sister routine.“I know that I have absolutely no right to lecture you,” she said, “but there are a couple of things bothering me. His business is sketchy, and you’ve only been together for a little while — a summer, really, right?” I didn’t say anything, waiting for her to go on.
Yes, just a summer,
I thought.
But I’d been waiting a whole lifetime.

“You’re going back to Rhode Island with him tomorrow? How long are you staying?”

“I’m not sure,” I said.
But suddenly I knew.
I knew exactly what I was going to do.

“What about your apartment? What are you going to do for a job?” she asked.

“I’m staying with him,” I said, saying it as much to myself as I was to her. He’d promised me that he meant it, that he loved me, and I was going to let myself believe him.

I was going to trust someone for the first time in my life.

And
I was going to train with him. I was going to help him with his next — his last — assignment.
I didn’t want to be apart from him, not ever again. If he felt finding Darius was something he had to do — well, I was going with him, and I was going to be prepared. I was going to do it for the both of us.
One final assignment. One last time, in order for us to be done with that life for good.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I’m going back tomorrow — you can come with me. I would love it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I know what I’m doing. I want to be with John. I’ll figure the rest of it out.”
And I probably won’t tell you about any of it.
It felt wonderful to have a secret from her, something all to myself, not for her to judge. Instead of feeling alone, I felt independent.

That’s because it’s on your terms,
my inner voice told me.
It’s because you’re making a choice. Finally.

“
Besides
,
I don’t want to crowd you — and
Rodney
,” I said, lasciviously. I wagged my eyebrows at her.

“Lib, I mean it,” she said, frowning at me. “I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice. You’re my sister. I know I haven’t been there for you, but I can be. I want to be.”

“I know I have a choice,” I said, smiling at her. I was suddenly, perfectly sure. “And I’m making the right one. For me.”