Chapter 60 Georgia #2
When Junie looks back at me, there’s a flash of something serious in her eyes. Just like when she told me about the shop.
When she told me about her sickness. I should be worried, but there’s nothing I can imagine that could rock me like her diagnosis.
“Three more shots first?” Junie asks.
Again, a common thought runs through my mind: Doesn’t she know by now it’s impossible for me to say no to her?
“Why not.”
We quietly take three shots each. We don’t make a single one. Neither of us seems to notice.
“Excuse me,” the teenage attendant says, propping a sign at the front of the game. “It’s my break, so I’m going to put up
this Closed sign. But feel free to finish your bucket.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, and he takes off.
Only a few balls rattle in the bucket anyway.
“Alright, so what’s the news?”
Junie turns to face me, and her shoulders drop, along with her gaze. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. When she
finally pulls in a breath, she says, “Promise me you won’t be mad.”
“Well, I don’t think— I mean . . .” Concern wells up in me. “Please, Junie, just tell me.”
Junie looks at me, and defeat crosses her face. “I’m so sorry.”
“What? What are you sorry about? Stop all of this and tell me.”
She looks around, and the crowd has cleared around us, probably moved toward the stage where the contest winners will be announced
shortly. Once she sees we’re mostly alone, she nods and swallows hard.
“I’m going to tell you exactly what happened, and I want you to know that I don’t blame you, not one bit.
You and I both made the same mistake, and we were just doing our best.” Junie closes the gap between us and takes my hands in hers.
“There’s no other human to walk this earth that I love the way I do you, Georgia Louise.
The results we got back then, all those years back .
. . The lab was too sciencey and not regular-folks proof.
Their result letters looked like lab printouts and they were confusing. ”
My face folds into lines. I remember reading the top line clearly. Admittedly, not much past that because the sheer joy that
erupted inside me made reading impossible. It was a new lab, yes, but somebody would’ve stopped them if they weren’t reliable.
Right?
“I read it, Junie. They said ‘no variations detected.’ Did they make a mistake?”
It was possible. Labs are run by humans, and even if they are excellent, people are imperfect. Heavens, do we know something
about imperfection around these parts.
Junie examines the ground before she looks back up at me. “It did say that, and Eddie said the way their letter was laid out
was atrocious. They went to market too soon, and we needed a doctor to interpret the results for us.”
“If that’s what it said, why can’t we read that for ourselves?”
“Because it said other stuff too,” Junie says. “It should’ve been clearer when sent to patients.”
“So they sent us the wrong information?”
Junie shakes her head gently. “We just needed to read the rest. The controls on the test were off. It was a bad test. Eddie
said it should’ve just said ‘Contaminated sample, please test again,’ something like that.”
An icy cold I’ve never felt before runs through my heart, and nausea wells up as my head starts to feel light. It couldn’t
be. No. We missed something. I missed something.
“I misread your result.”
Junie sucks in a quick breath. “But when I re-requested the results and they sent them to me, I read it the same exact way you did all those years ago. I’m thirty years old, and I might not be a rocket scientist, but I am decently competent. It’s not your fault.”
“You’re sick now, and it’s my fault. It’s all my fault . . . All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe and protected after Mama, and look what I’ve
done.” Tears run. “And here I stand, all the bad tissue cut off, plastic boobs and not a worry in the world. My God, Junie,
how can you not blame me?”
Junie nods rapidly. “You’ve protected me in every way you could. You have saved me countless times.” She runs a gentle hand
up to cup my cheek. “You are saving me right now. Look around at what’s happening here, at the shop, with all of us Louises,
Daddy joining in, forgetting there ever was bickering about the name. None of this would exist without you.” Her eyes glisten
with tears, but she continues as if they’re not there; Junie is being brave for me.
Her love and her forgiveness feel like hot pokers pressed into my shattered heart. She’s trying to fix the devastation I laid
upon her. How could I? How could I have let this happen? How could I not have suggested a second opinion, a backup test? Me, of all people. I shouldn’t
have overlooked a box to check on the list of big sister responsibilities.
“I will never forgive myself for this, Junie. I’m so sorry.”
My legs feel wobbly as I stand there trying to find some sort of solution inside a corner of my mind. I’m not sure I’ve ever
felt so desperately like a failure.
The announcement comes over the loudspeaker: “Please gather at the central stage for the announcement of prize winners. This
includes livestock, pie baking, and the children’s art contest.”
“We don’t have to go,” Junie says.
“So I can let someone else down?” I say, my words laced with anger. Anger at myself.
I turn and gently pull my arm from Junie’s grasp, walking in the direction of the stage. I don’t deserve her anyway.
“Wait,” Junie calls from behind me. She catches up and slips her hand into mine, squeezing. “At least let me walk over with
you.”