Chapter 37 Lorna Now
Lorna’s dad looked a lot older than he had just three years ago, when he came to take Kristen back to Florida.
His wife, Trish, was heavily made up with not a hair out of place, like she’d always been—but even she looked a little worse for wear.
Lorna knew that look. It was the stress of Kristen.
She could zap the fortitude of the strongest people.
Addiction and its effects and aftermaths and consequences—all of it—was such an insidious thing, pulling apart the best of families. Lorna sincerely hoped Kristen hadn’t managed to do that to Dad’s second family. She wouldn’t wish that agony on anyone.
It was humbling to think of Kristen’s journey in this life.
If she got too in her head (thanks, float therapy), Lorna couldn’t help but wonder what might have been for Kristen and their family.
What if Kristen had conquered her need to numb herself?
What if she hadn’t turned out to be an addict in the first place?
Where would she be now? Where would they all be now?
But the life Kristen had squandered by choosing drugs over all else was too hard to imagine.
“Lorna,” Dad said, and hugged her tight. She was slightly taller than him, and it felt awkward. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You too, Dad,” she said. But she felt nothing. Not even rage or anger or disgust. Here was a man with whom she was acquainted, who had the misfortune of being the father to a child who’d suffered brain damage. Other than that, he looked like a guy who would live in Florida.
Dad turned to Seth and Bean and said, “Oh. I wasn’t expecting anyone else.”
“I’m Trish,” Dad’s wife said, moving to greet Seth and Bean. “And this is Dave. So nice to meet you! We had no idea Lorna was in a relationship!”
“I’m not,” Lorna said.
“We just wanted to keep her company,” Seth added, smiling at Lorna. This man got her. He understood her unwillingness to give her dad and Trish a single thing, and he was going to support her in that.
She introduced them properly. Bean was dressed in his vest and explorer hat and had his Ranger Explorer backpack.
On the flight over, he’d been glued to the window, making notes about what he saw, and Lorna had the chance to fill Seth in a little more about her family history.
She hadn’t told him all of it yet—she liked him and wanted to keep him as a friend, and she had the sense that a little went a long way.
But she also knew she could confide in him.
That he wouldn’t judge her. She could almost hear Micah crowing, Look at you, you’re trusting someone, Lorna!
When the introductions were made, Dad asked if she had everything. “We can swing by the facility on the way home.”
“What?” Lorna was startled. She wasn’t ready. She needed... something. Time? At least a chance to change clothes, to get her game face on. She hadn’t expected to see Kristen immediately.
“It’s just a few blocks from here,” her dad pointed out. “Wouldn’t make sense to go all the way home and then come back. Not with the price of gas what it is.”
For heaven’s sake, why hadn’t she just rented a car? “But Seth and Bean are here. They don’t want to hang out at some residential care facility.”
“We can get a cab or a rideshare,” Seth said. “Don’t worry about us.”
“Yay!” Bean said. “I’ve always wanted to ride in a cab!”
“You don’t have to wait there,” Dad said. “There’s a café next door. A Starbucks on the corner. I think it makes more sense.”
“Okay,” Seth said reluctantly, and to Bean he said, “We’ll get a cab later.”
Dad turned to lead the charge to the parking garage; Seth exchanged a look with Lorna. Yep, that was her father—unwilling to consider anyone else’s comfort but his own. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
Lorna forced a sort of smile. “I’m not not okay,” she said. “I guess I’m just going to rip off the bandage.”
Seth sort of shrugged. “May be the best way to do it.”
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
“Don’t you worry about the Rooney boys. We can survive your dad.” He winked at her, and Lorna knew he could survive anything. The man was a rock.
The residential care facility was a series of buildings behind an iron fence. Lorna had searched for it on Google Maps when Kristen was admitted here and thought then that it looked more like a prison than a long-term care facility.
“I’ll just pop in with you,” Dad said, pulling into a parking space.
“Umm... if you don’t mind, Dad, I’d rather go in alone,” Lorna said. She was already feeling sick with nerves. The last time she’d seen Kristen was in the hospital. She’d been on a ventilator, her hair greasy and her face and arms bruised. She’d looked dead.
“Are you sure, Lolo? You don’t know what ward—”
“I’ll find it,” she said quickly. It was one thing to face Kristen. It was quite another to do it with Dad hovering. She reached forward from her seat behind her father and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I need to do this on my own.”
“Okay,” he said, and sighed. “We’ll be at the café. Just text when you’re done.”
“Got it,” Lorna said, opening the door.
“Wait!” Bean cried. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a Precious Moments figurine. It was the mother and child with a puppy figurine she’d seen in Seth’s apartment. “This is you and me,” he said. “So it’s kind of like I’ll be there too.”
Lorna studied the figurine he pressed into her hand.
She thought he’d taken it because it reminded him of his mother.
“ Bean ,” she said, her voice full of all the emotion she was feeling.
She grabbed him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.” She looked across the top of his head at Seth.
She could see tears shining in his eyes, but he turned his face away, cleared his throat.
With the figurine in her pocket, she walked into the facility.
There was a lot of security, and she needed to provide ample proof that she was allowed to see the patient, but she was at last escorted out of the main building, across a courtyard, and to a plain long building near the back of the complex.
They went through a secure door, down a charmless corridor, and then arrived in a large dayroom with windows overlooking a waterway.
Inside were several people in various stages of presence, both mental and physical. But Lorna spotted Kristen immediately. She guessed she would never not find her sister in a crowded room.
Kristen was in a wheelchair. Her head lolled to one side. Her hair was in a high pony; it looked thick and shiny blond. She was wearing a sweatshirt that was too big for her and cotton scrub bottoms. On her feet were thick socks.
Lorna had to mentally command her feet to move, putting one foot in front of the other as she walked across the room. She was frightened of Kristen in this state, which made no sense. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to see her eyes, see that familiar gaze staring back at her.
When Lorna reached her, Kristen made no sign that she even noticed.
An attendant pulled up a chair for Lorna, and she sat slowly, unsure if Kristen was capable of registering her presence.
She leaned forward and put her face directly in front of Kristen’s—if she could see, she could not miss Lorna looming there.
It took a moment, but she swore she saw something spark in Kristen’s pale blue eyes.
Recognition, the sun—who knew? But something changed there.
A swell of love and grief mixed into one terrible knot in the pit of her stomach.
She couldn’t help herself—she burst into tears.
She reached into her purse and grabbed some tissues.
Then she put her hand in the pocket of her jacket and tightly gripped the figurine.
She had not counted on such a great burst of emotion.
She dabbed at her eyes with the tissue and concentrated on taking several deep breaths. When she managed to pull it together, she said shakily, “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Kristen’s eyes were on her. They seemed quite clear now.
“I don’t know what to say,” Lorna began.
“I mean, I had something prepared and went over it and over it in my head, but I can’t remember a word of it now.
So I guess I’ll just say that I love you, Kristen.
I have always loved you so much.” More tears fell.
She drew another breath. “ So much.” She dropped the tissues in her lap and took Kristen’s hand in hers.
Amazingly, Kristen gripped her hand. “I’m so sorry,” Lorna said.
“I am so very sorry that this is what happened to you. That this happened to us. But I forgive you, Kristen.” The words sounded like a croak, coated in shame and regret.
And the compassion she’d been missing for so long.
Thick globs of it, coating her words. “And I forgive myself. Probably not what you were expecting me to say, but I’ve really needed to do that.
I realize now that I couldn’t have changed you.
I could not have made your choices. I could only protect myself.
And now the only thing I can do is love you. And I do, Kristen.”
Kristen began to squeeze her hand rhythmically. Squeeze and release. Squeeze and release. Lorna wasn’t certain if it was a spasm or a sign from her sister.
“I want to ask your forgiveness,” she said.
The squeezing continued.
“I’ve thought so long about it, about everything, and why things happened and how they happened, and I have concluded that you, me, and Mom, well... we did the best we knew how, didn’t we? We each did the best we could.”