My Sister's Keeper Read online

  "What do you think?" I smile at her. "Martha Stewart would love it, huh?"

  "Martha Stewart would make you her life project," Julia murmurs. She sits down on the couch, leaps up, and removes a handful of potato chips that have, holy God, already left a grease print in the shape of a heart on her sweet ass.

  "You want a drink?" Don't let it be said my mother never taught me manners.

  She glances around, then shakes her head. "I'll pass."

  Shrugging, I pull a Labatt's out of the fridge. "So there's been a little fallout along the home front?"

  "Wouldn't you know?"

  "I try not to."

  "How come?"

  "Because it's what I do best." Grinning, I take a nice long pull of my beer. "Although this is one blowout I would've loved to see."

  "Tell me about Kate and Anna."

  "What am I supposed to tell you?" I swing down next to her on the couch, way too close. On purpose.

  "How do you get along with them?"

  I lean forward. "Why, Ms. Romano. Are you asking me if I play nice?" When she doesn't as much as blink, I knock off the act. "They survive me," I answer. "Like everyone else."

  This answer must interest her, because she writes something down on her little white pad. "What was it like, growing up in this family?"

  A dozen flip responses work their way up my throat, but the one that comes out is a totally dark horse. "When I was twelve, there was this time Kate got sick--not even big sick, just an infection, but she couldn't seem to get rid of it by herself. So they took Anna in to give granulocytes--white blood cells. It wasn't like Kate planned it or anything, but it happened to be Christmas Eve. We were supposed to all go out as a family, you know, and get a tree." I pull a pack of smokes from my pocket. "You mind?" I ask, but I never give her a chance to answer before I light up. "I was shuttled over to some neighbor's house last minute, which sucked, because they were having a nice Christmas Eve with their relatives and kept whispering about me like I was a charity case and deaf to boot. Anyway, that all got lame pretty fast, so I said I had to pee and I snuck out. I walked home and took one of my dad's axes and a handsaw and chopped down this little spruce in the middle of the front yard. By the time the neighbor figured out I was gone, I had the whole thing set up in our living room in the tree stand, garland, ornaments, you name it."

  In my mind, I can still see those lights--red and blue and yellow, blinking over and over on a tree as overdressed as an Eskimo in Bali. "So Christmas morning, my parents come to the neighbors to collect me. They look like hell, the both of them, but when they bring me home there are presents under the tree. I'm all excited and I find one with my name on it, and it turns out to be this little windup car--something that would have been great for a three-year-old, but not me, and that I happened to know was for sale in the hospital gift shop. As was every single other present I got that year. Go freaking figure." I stab my cigarette butt out on the thigh of my jeans. "They never even said anything about the tree," I tell her. "That's what it's like growing up in this family."

  "Do you think it's the same for Anna?"

  "No. Anna's on their radar, because she plays into their grand plan for Kate."

  "How do your parents decide when Anna will help Kate medically?" she asks.

  "You make it sound like there's some process involved. Like there's actually a choice."

  She lifts her head. "Isn't there?"

  I ignore her, because that's a rhetorical question if I've ever heard one, and stare out the window. In the front yard, you can still see the stump from that spruce. No one in this family ever covers up their mistakes.

  *

  When I was seven I got it in my head to dig to China. How hard could it be, I figured--a straight shot, a tunnel? I took a shovel out of the garage and I started a hole just wide enough for me to slip into. Every night I would drag the old plastic sandbox cover across it, just in case of rain. For four weeks I worked at this, as the rocks bit into my arms to make battle scars, and roots grabbed at my ankles.

  What I didn't count on were the tall walls that grew around me, or the belly of the planet, hot under my sneakers. Digging straight down, I'd gotten hopelessly lost. In a tunnel, you have to light your own way, and I've never been very good at that.

  When I yelled out, my father found me in seconds, although I'm sure I waited through several lives. He crawled into the pit, torn between my hard work and my stupidity. "This could have collapsed on you!" he said, and lifted me onto solid ground.

  From that point of view, I realized that my hole was not miles deep after all. My father, in fact, could stand on the bottom and it only reached up to his chest.

  Darkness, you know, is relative.

  BRIAN

  IT TAKES ANNA LESS THAN TEN MINUTES to move into my room at the station. While she puts her clothes into a drawer and sets her hairbrush next to mine on the dresser, I go out to the kitchen where Paulie is chefing up dinner. The guys are all waiting for an explanation.

  "She's going to stay with me here for a while," I say. "We're working some things out."

  Caesar looks up from a magazine. "Is she gonna ride with us?"

  I haven't thought of this. Maybe it will take her mind off things, to feel like she's an apprentice of sorts. "You know, she just might."

  Paulie turns around. He's making fajitas tonight, beef. "Everything okay, Cap?"

  "Yeah, Paulie, thanks for asking."

  "If there's anyone upsetting her," Red says, "they'll have to go through all four of us now."

  The others nod. I wonder what they would think if I told them that the people upsetting Anna are Sara and me.

  I leave the guys finishing up dinner preparations and go back to my room, where Anna sits on the second twin bed with her feet pretzeled beneath her. "Hey," I say, but she doesn't respond. It takes me a moment to see that she's wearing headphones, blasting God knows what into her ears.

  She sees me and shuts off the music, pulling the phones to rest on her neck like a choker. "Hey."

  I sit down on the edge of the bed and look at her. "So. You, uh, want to do something?"

  "Like what?"

  I shrug. "I don't know. Play cards?"

  "You mean like poker?"

  "Poker, Go Fish. Whatever."

  She looks at me carefully. "Go Fish?"

  "Want to braid your hair?"

  "Dad," Anna asks, "are you feeling all right?"

  I am more comfortable rushing into a building that is going to pieces around me than I am trying to make her feel at ease. "I just--I want you to know you can do anything you want here."

  "Is it okay to leave a box of tampons in the bathroom?"

  Immediately, my face goes red, and as if it's catching, so does Anna's. There is only one female firefighter, a part-timer, and the women's room is on the lower level of the station. But still.

  Anna's hair swings over her face. "I didn't mean . . . I can just keep them--"

  "You can put them in the bathroom," I announce. Then I add with authority, "If anyone complains, we'll say they're mine."

  "I'm not sure they'll believe you, Dad."

  I wrap an arm around her. "I may not do this right at first. I've never bunked with a thirteen-year-old girl."

  "I don't shack up with forty-two-year-old guys too often, either."

  "Good, because I'd have to kill them."

  Her smile is a stamp against my neck. Maybe this will not be as hard as I think. Maybe I can convince myself that this move will ultimately keep my family together, even though the first step involves breaking it apart.

  "Dad?"

  "Hmm?"

  "Just so you know: no one plays Go Fish after they're potty-trained."

  She hugs me extra tight, the way she used to when she was small. I remember, in that instant, the last time I carried Anna. We were hiking across a field, the five of us--and the cattails and wild daisies were taller than her head. I swung her up into my arms, and together we parted a sea of r