Chapter 20
Nora and I happily devour the entire pizza while watching our favorite childhood movie, “The Never-Ending Story.” It’s just as delightful as it was when we first saw it as kids—so much so that we could easily reenact the entire film if we wanted to, having watched it countless times.
The nostalgia I experienced tonight brought me comfort, and having Nora here with me has made it even better.
Spending time with her tonight has meant the world to me; I’ve missed having quality time with her. Our relationship has shifted since Jake passed away, but not in a negative way. It’s not that it has changed; I think it has more to do with how Nora has changed.
Even tonight, I can sense that something is off with her. While we’ve shared some great laughs since she arrived, I’ve noticed her body language during the moments when she doesn’t realize I’m watching.
I fidget with my moon bracelet, twirling it around my wrist. “Oh, I almost forgot!” I jump up from the couch and head towards my room.
“What is it?” Nora shouts.
I quickly return and plop back down. “Let me see your wrist.”
Nora glances at my enclosed hand before extending her arm my way. I clasp on the moon bracelet and watch as her eyes light up. She runs her thumb over the moon pendant, a genuine smile stretching across her face. There’s my beautiful Nora Ray.
“Where did you get this? I love it!” she chirps.
I throw my wrist up and jingle my bracelet for her to see. “From a gift shop at the beach. We’re matching now.”
Nora continues staring at the pendant. “It’s perfect, Olive. Thank you.”
“I’m so glad you like it. It makes me think of all those nights in the treehouse watching the moon when we were kids.”
Nora smiles a little, and I watch as it slowly melts from her face. “Those same nights, our mother was high as a kite or nowhere to be found.” She lets out a short, dramatic laugh.
Grabbing my watered-down margarita from the coffee table, I take a huge gulp to flush down the ache that claws up my throat. “It’s not a childhood I would wish on anyone, but I can only be thankful that we had one another,” I reply.
Nora stares forward blankly, nodding her head.
We both sit in our dreary silence for what feels like an eternity.
There’s more to this conversation to be had. My mind trails back to the day I stopped by to visit her. I can’t hold back anymore; I need to know if what I saw in her purse was what I’ve prayed it wasn’t. It has not left my mind since.
Now my stomach is turning into knots just thinking about where this will lead and the fact that I’m potentially stirring some shit up when we’ve had a great night so far.
I brace myself and turn back towards her on the couch. “I need to know if you’re okay, Nora. Please, I’m an adult, and I can handle whatever it is. I’m worried about you!” I anxiously watch Nora’s expression fall into a deeper frown.
She was not prepared to have this discussion with me. The last thing I want to do is put her on the spot and upset her, but I love and care about her; I need to know if she is battling something alone.
We sit silently for a few seconds before she turns towards me. Her gorgeous brown eyes are hazy, and I can see the pain behind them. I feel tears building in my eyes, but I hold myself together; I can’t fuck this up. I have to show her I can take whatever she tells me as an adult.
Her lip quivers slightly as she speaks. “Since you must know, Olive, no, I’m not okay.
Every day, I have no choice but to wake up and be reminded that Jake is never coming back.
I sleep in a bed where he once slept beside me.
A bed where we laughed, cried, and had intimate moments together for so many years. ”
Tears are streaming down her face, and I can’t stop the ones now streaming down mine.
I hear a sob leave her throat before she speaks again.
“He saved me, Olive, don’t you know that?
He loved me despite my brokenness. I had to leave that house; I stayed for you until I couldn’t stay any longer.
And it was Jake who brought me into his family and was patient with me.
He let me cry many nights in his arms while he reminded me he’d always be there. And now he’s gone.”
This hurts me so fucking bad. She’s bottled this all up and has dealt with it all alone. I feel like the shittiest sister ever. My voice is shaky. “Nora, I’m so—”
She quickly cuts me off before I can finish.
“No, let me say this, please. I need you to know that I tried; I tried so goddamn hard to cope with the grief. It has haunted me since the day he died. Sleeping was my friend at first until his death crept into my dreams every single night to the point I’d wake up crying or gasping for air that wasn’t there. ”
She sucks in a shaky breath.
“Olive, I had to numb the pain because nothing else was working. That’s when an acquaintance at my old job had heard about Jake’s death and offered me some of her pain medication from when she broke her arm months prior.
“At first, I was skeptical about it, but she reassured me it was okay and would help calm my nerves. It took me a week to muster up the courage to try them. The first time made me sick; I puked my guts up, but by the second time, I felt relaxed in a way, my anxiety subsided, and I felt like I could breathe again.”
She takes a deep breath and waits for me to respond. That was a lot to take in, and I’m trying to hold it together. I need her to trust me and confide in me, but I also want her to know that I’m concerned.
I finally muster out, “Are you still taking them?”
She looks away and begins rubbing her forearm. “Yes, but I promise you it’s just temporary. You know Jake’s twenty-sixth birthday is coming up soon, and I need to get past that. It’s his first birthday gone, and I won’t get to spend it with him.”
I slowly nod my head in understanding. “I’m so sorry that you have felt alone in this. I wish I could have been more for you, Nora.” I can’t help the rattle behind my words.
She turns and wraps her arms around me. “Olive, you are everything to me and more. This isn’t your fault or your problem to fix. I love you dearly, and nothing will ever change that.”
I lay my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes while she gently rubs my back.
For a split second, I feel like we’re kids again.
I picture Nora as only a child, too, trying her best to calm me, letting me know she’s right here.
She had no one to comfort her like that.
She has had to be strong for me, herself, and our mom all these years.
And the thought of it strikes my heart. I put my arms around her and lightly squeeze. I don’t want to let her go.
Tears flood my face again. “I can’t lose you, Nora; you’re my sister.”
I hear a deep breath leave her wobbling mouth. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m going to get out of this. I love you so damn much, Olive Oil,” she chokes out.
And I know with every fiber in me she does. “I love you too, big sister.”