Broken Read online

  It was marvelous.

  There were some eyes that cut away, uncomfortable in the presence of my loss, but for the first time in four years, I was able to talk about Adam, and I did. With my parents. Katie and her husband. With once-a-year acquaintances at the holiday parties and dinners. It felt as though people were able to pity me without feeling awkward about it. Adam had died. They could relate to that. They could offer their condolences, pat my shoulder, nod sympathetically in understanding when I spoke of him. Death was somehow less embarrassing than disability.

  Death is also only briefly fascinating to anyone not right next to it. Eventually, the parties ceased, the calls and cards stopped coming. The world moved on with everyone else in it, leaving me behind.

  Dennis invited me to dinner one night, and I went. He took me to a little place I’d driven past a dozen times but never been to. The food was good, the conversation better. It was good to sit and talk about Adam without the burden of supporting someone else’s sadness. Dennis was smart enough to listen more than he spoke.

  “I miss him,” Dennis told me after dinner, in the parking lot. “He could beat my butt at chess like nobody else.”

  “He was so glad to have you to play with. I could never learn.”

  “I feel guilty,” Dennis said suddenly. “Maybe if I’d been there—”

  “I don’t blame you, Dennis.”

  He wiped his eyes, and I tasted bitterness that he could find tears while I had none.

  “He was a good man.”

  “Yes,” I said. “He was.”

  “I just feel so guilty.”

  “I feel guilty, too,” I told him. “But not because I think I could have done something different or because I left him that day or anything else.”

  Dennis’s earring gleamed in the parking lot lamp as he tilted his head. “No? That’s good, though, Sadie, because those things weren’t your fault.”

  “And it wasn’t your fault you were on a trip and we had to leave him with someone who fucked up, either, Dennis.”

  The strength in my voice seemed to surprise him. He nodded, his features rearranging in relief. “Yeah. I know. But still—”

  “I know.”

  “At least he’s not in any pain,” Dennis said. I’d heard the platitude a dozen times, if not more. “He’s free.”

  So was I, but I couldn’t say that to Dennis even though he might have understood. He hugged me, a big, broad man who’d been part of my life for years and now no longer was. He meant it as a comfort, and it was, but more for him than me. Then we parted, Dennis unburdened and I with a bigger weight than before.

  Seeing Mrs. Lapp again was easier, because she merely enfolded me into her smothering embrace and rocked me back and forth for a few minutes. Then she clucked over my eating habits, bragged about her grandchildren and showed me photos of the trip she’d taken the week before.

  “Samuel and I are going to New York City next week,” she told me. “We’re going to see a Broadway show!”

  I smiled at that. “Samuel’s agreeing to this?”

  “He’s never been to the city,” she said. “We’re taking a bus trip with our church group.”

  I’d met Samuel Lapp many times when he came to retrieve his wife from my kitchen. He was pleasant but silent, and wore faded bib overalls and a plaid shirt on every occasion I’d ever seen him. I couldn’t quite picture him watching a Broadway musical.

  “Sounds like a lot of fun,” I told her.

  I’d actually wanted to ask her if she’d consider coming back to work for me. Cleaning my own house and cooking my own dinner didn’t hold any new appeal for me. Hearing her rhapsodize over her upcoming plans, I knew I couldn’t do it.

  “I’m busier now than I ever was when I worked,” she said, pushing a slice of homemade shoo-fly pie toward me across her broad kitchen table. “I’ve been waiting for years to retire. I’d have done it a long time ago, but…”

  She looked up, her eyes kind and a bit embarrassed. I poked my pie so I wouldn’t have to look at her. “I appreciate everything you did for us, Mrs. Lapp.”

  She tutted. “It was plenty good, most of the time, even when he was grexy.”

  I smiled at her use of the Pennsylvania Dutch slang. “He could be very grexy. And now you can go to New York with Samuel. Or any other place you want.”

  She nodded. “Well, Dr. D, forgive me for saying so, but…so can you.”

  I wanted to answer that, but I took a bite of pie, instead. The conversation turned to television, the weather and sundry other safe topics. I ate three pieces of Mrs. Lapp’s pie and left with a sick stomach.

  “You call me if you want to talk,” she said from the doorway as she waved goodbye.

  I promised I would, but we both knew I wouldn’t.

  Katie didn’t stop calling to find out what I needed. Just like when we were kids and she knew when to bring me the second half of her grape popsicle, my sister knew how to comfort me. Her gifts now were expensive wine and chocolate and an armful of chick flicks, but they were as welcome and sweet as her grubby, half-eaten popsicles had once been.

  She settled on my couch with a loud, indulgent sigh and kicked off her shoes. She’d cut her hair and wore makeup, and though she wore track pants and a t-shirt, they were stylish. She didn’t look as tired, either.

  “You’ve lost weight,” I said.

  “Damn straight!” Katie grinned. “Now that I’ve gone back to work part-time I can afford to pay for the gym. So when Lily’s at preschool, I take James and get a workout in. Then I work while they’re both napping.”

  I kicked off my own shoes. My sweatpants were far less stylish than my sister’s but that was nothing new. What was new was that I didn’t compare myself to her and feel dowdy.

  “I’m glad you could come over. I’ve been wanting to watch Moulin Rouge for a while.” I leaned forward to sift through the movie choices.

  “Yeah…”

  I looked up at Katie’s hesitant reply. “What? We could watch something else.”

  She shook her head, her expression one I didn’t know how to read. “No, that’s fine.”

  I sat back. “Well?”

  She bit her bottom lip, then let out the giggle she must have been trying to keep inside. “It’s Mom, that’s all.”

  “What about her?” I wanted to be worried but Katie’s laughter meant there wasn’t a problem.

  “She…told me I had to come over.”

  This made very little sense to me. “What do you mean by that?”

  Katie snorted another stream of giggles. “She told me I had to come over and spend time with you. That she was…worried about you.”

  For a moment I sat, silent. Then I started giggling, too. “No way!”

  “Yes!” Katie guffawed. “She absolutely did!”

  We laughed for a few minutes, until I shook my head. “Wonder of wonders.”

  “So, I told Evan I had no choice, I needed to be there for my big sis, or my mom would have my hide.”

  “And he couldn’t complain about that, huh?”

  “Evan going against Mom? He knows better. And look at this.” She held up her cell phone with a laugh. “Turning it off. Evan’s going to have to just learn to deal with the poop explosions on his own.”

  “That sounds scary.” I poured wine and opened the gold box of candy.

  “It’s good for daddies to learn how to take care of their babies,” my sister said. “Especially when they think they can’t. Besides, Lily’s a big help.”

  I laughed, imagining my niece’s “help.” “Poor Evan.”

  “He’ll be fine.” Katie sipped wine slowly, an expression of bliss on her face. “I haven’t had wine in…years. My god, I’m so glad to have my boobs back. I love my children, Sadie, but holy hell, I’m going to be glad to have some of my life back again.”

  I thought I was laughing, but it was the sound of my wineglass shattering on the tile floor. Then I knelt among the shards, my fingers reaching