Chapter 55 Lee
Lee
It was storming outside, thunder rolling through periodically. Flora was hunched over the kitchen table. “Quite a deluge,” said Lee.
“Everyone still talks about Cyclone Athena. It happened before we moved here. The streets turned into rivers and people were trapped in elevators.”
“Jeez,” said Lee.
“You were in, like, a mental hospital, right?”
The question took Lee by surprise, but she decided to be honest. “Yes,” she said.
“Why?”
It was a relief for Lee to speak openly. “I have a mood regulation disorder,” she said. “Do you know what that means?”
“I guess, but nobody really understands brains and how they work.”
Lee snorted, finishing off a mug she’d filled with wine. She pulled out a chair to join Flora. It was strangely soothing in the dim kitchen with the rain pounding the streets outside. “More homework?” she said, gesturing to Flora’s notebooks and textbooks.
“First Year Lyceum project,” said Flora. “That’s what they call tenth grade here.” Flora turned her laptop screen toward Lee. “I’m writing about romance scammers.”
“Oh…”
“I knew Mom was in trouble before she went away,” said Flora.
“But nobody listened to me.” Lee recognized the hurt in Flora’s voice—the particular sting of having your observations dismissed.
“Isabelle told me to get a life, and Mom told me she was fine,” said Flora.
“People don’t like it when you watch them. ”
“I know,” said Lee. She thought about all the times she’d picked up on subtle cues on set—an actor’s insecurity, a director’s doubt—and how mentioning these observations had labeled her “difficult” or “too intense.”
“I knew my dad was planning to kill himself before he did it,” said Lee. She felt immediately nervous—what the hell was she doing telling a kid a thing like this? But Charlotte never told them the truth. Lee wanted to be different.
Flora’s eyes widened. “Grandpa Winston?”
“Yeah. He started giving away his things. Just small stuff, nothing obvious. But I noticed. I told Grammy Charlotte, and she told me to mind my own business.”
“What happened?”
Lee stared into her empty mug. “I was right.”
Flora nodded. “That’s the worst part. Being right.”
They sat in silence for a moment. “You know what I wish someone had told me at your age?” said Lee.
“What?”
“You should trust yourself.”
Flora glanced up, studying Lee’s face for signs of insincerity. Finding none, she said, “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Trust yourself?”
“Well,” said Lee, “I guess if I’m being honest…no.”
Flora looked at Lee, her stare so piercing that Lee felt uncomfortable.
“I don’t trust myself,” Lee continued. “I guess I stopped hearing my true heart a long time ago. Now, when I try to hear it”—she shook her head—“I can’t.”
Flora’s eyes did not move from Lee’s and she said something so softly Lee couldn’t hear her. Lee moved close and said, “What?”
“I have it too,” murmured Flora, into Lee’s hair.
Lee’s blood went cold. “Flora,” she said, “what are you saying?”
“Maybe everyone would be better off without me,” whispered Flora, pressing her palms to her eyes and starting to shiver.
“Oh, sweetie,” said Lee. Her gut seared with the horrible realization that Flora had the same anguish as she.
“That’s not true,” she said. “Flora, that’s not true.
That voice—telling you lies—that’s Depression, Flora.
I hear it. I hear it too, little one. But it’s not true. We need you. We need you.”
“Is it like this for you?” said Flora.
“Yes.”
“I hate the voice,” said Flora.
“Flora,” Lee said, “why have we been distant? I always felt like you didn’t want me around.”
Flora twisted her hands. “Grammy Charlotte and Mom…they always said you were fragile. You were going through a lot and we shouldn’t bother you….” She looked up at Lee. “I…handle everything myself. But inside…”
“Yeah,” said Lee. “I know.”
“And I was scared that if I told anyone about the voice in my head, they’d say I was fragile, too. That I’d become someone people had to protect…not someone who could help them.”
“Oh, Flora. Being scared doesn’t make you fragile. It makes you real.” Lee held tight to her niece. “Listen,” she said, “you need to promise me you’ll tell your school nurse right away. Promise me, OK?”
“OK,” said Flora softly. She pulled back from Lee, but her gaze stayed fixed—searching, hoping, as if Lee might offer something to keep her above the surface.
“Flora, there are medicines that can make the voice go away.”
“Really?”
Lee wanted to tell her the truth, which was no, not really. Not forever.
She equivocated, “Your nurse can help you, Flora.”
There was a sound from Flora’s laptop. Flora leaned in to read.
“What is it?” asked Lee.
“Maya just found something.”
“Flora—” said Lee, not wanting to change the subject.
“Mom’s phone was ported out the day she left Athens. Maya just sent me the address where Mom’s phone last connected before it was switched.”
Lee stared at Flora, overwhelmed. “You have the address where your mom’s phone connected on the day she left?”
“Yes.”
“Write it down,” said Lee. “And Flora?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for trusting me.”