Chapter 19
Ian
I sensed another bout of anxiousness in Kate. There was a tightening in her body, a sudden rigidity to the set of her shoulders.
“What is it?” I asked, and took her hand in mine. I squeezed it gently, but firmly enough to let her know I was there. To let her know that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Nothing new. Just thinking about Claire.” She looked up and gave me a small but encouraging smile. She squeezed my hand in return — only tighter. At that moment, it felt like we were the only two left in the waiting room.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
“What?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Is this Aladdin, and you’re about to take me on a magic carpet ride?” She was chuckling, which was a good thing. “But yes. I don’t know why, but I really trust you.”
And as soon as she said it, I immediately felt my heart pound hard in my chest. Pride. Joy. Honor. I felt them all because I had this woman’s trust.
“Can you tell me about everything?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” She looked at me, and her brows furrowed in confusion.
And then I realized how shitty I was for even asking in the first place. She was vulnerable, and here I was digging—poking and prodding, even—for information. I wanted to take it all back, to shove the questions back in my mouth, and then stick my foot in it to seal it closed. But it was too late.
“I just mean..." I stammered a bit. I still couldn't believe I could even begin to stammer around a woman. I'd never had that problem before. "Well…" I sounded like a blithering idiot trying to figure out how to save it so that I wouldn't sound so incredibly insensitive. "Just, you know, tell me a little more about Claire, about your family — about everything. It seems like there’s a lot going on with you, and your world. And I think it might help if you have someone to finally listen to you...but if not, don’t worry about it right now."
She glanced down to her hands, which were nervously fiddling.
"And yeah, maybe selfishly I even want to learn a little more about you —and your family.” I laughed, almost nervously, but I hoped it would ease the tension of my question.
“Oh god,” she said, still a little sadly, but with a hint of her own smile. “That’s a little hard to explain.”
Her voice became shaky again, and I couldn’t help but scold myself for how dumb I'd even been to bring it up in the first place.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with,” I reassured her. “But like I said earlier, I won’t ever understand unless you explain it. We could always talk later, though, when the feelings maybe aren’t so raw.”
“I want to talk,” she said. “I really do. I just don’t know how.”
“Just let it out,” I whispered. I put my hand on her knee and squeezed it firmly. “If you really want to talk, I think it could help you feel better. You’ve been holding all of this back all day, and probably for a whole lot longer than that.”
“You’re the first person who has cared enough to ask,” she said.
I felt my throat clench in pain at the notion. But I knew she wasn’t done. She probably still had a lot more on her mind. I could tell she was about to give me the whole story, just by looking at the change in her expression.
She sat up and leaned away slightly, then cleared her throat. She clutched my pocket square in front of her. “I mean, I told you before that she had some mental health issues — and some learning disabilities. It’s been an ongoing battle for a long time.”
I nodded. “It sounds really hard, Kate.”
“Yeah. Constant battling with the illness itself, with schools, with therapists, with my parents, with my brother…”
I felt terrible how un-encouraging her family seemed. She hadn’t really talked much about them; she’d mostly just talked about Claire. It said a lot that Kate was the only one here for Claire right now.
“Both parents?” I asked, remembering that she hadn’t mentioned her mom very much.
“Mom left a long time ago. Claire was really young.” Kate dabbed the corner of her eye with my pocket square before continuing, “Dad always blamed Claire for it — and in truth, my mother did leave because she couldn’t deal with Claire’s special needs.”
“Your mom should feel like an asshole,” I muttered as my head fell back and rested against the wall. “And so should your dad.” I knew it wasn’t my place, but I was angry for her. “Why isn’t he here?”
“Dad?” she said with a laugh. It wasn’t a humorous laugh, though—it was a bitter one. “He thinks paying attention to her after something like this is ‘fawning’ over her and ‘encouraging’ the behavior.”
“But that’s not how mental illness works, is it?” I asked.
“I’m hardly an expert,” she said. “But that’s not how Claire’s symptoms are. So his problem is more than just Claire. It’s his deep-seated beliefs and prejudices, and his business. I mean, I get it. He’s a really busy man…”
No excuse. No fucking excuse. I was a busy man, and I was here.
“It’s just hard for him to break away,” she said.
I wondered if that was really what she believed. I had to wonder if she always glossed his actions over, if she was that much in denial, or if she really just had to say it to make herself feel better.
My money was on the latter.
I could tell that she was confused about her family situation. So was I, for that matter. It didn’t make sense that a mother could leave her children behind, that her sister could even think of taking her own life, or hurting herself. It seemed that Kate had a hard time trying to put herself in Claire’s shoes, and I could definitely relate to that.
But it was in that moment that I understood how Kate had become the wonderful woman that she had become. She was kind, genuine, responsible, and wise beyond her years…and that was because she’d had to be. She’d been forced into some sort of sisterly-motherhood type lifestyle. She had become a mother-figure — the biggest role model in existence — to a little girl. She’d had to learn how to take care of this girl from a young age, all the way through her teenage years.
She had to be that one reliable source of love. She had to be that one constant role model.
“I know it’s been hard on you,” I said. “For you to constantly have to be strong, to be a mother figure to your little sister…to have non-stop responsibility.”
She nodded. “You’re right.”
“But you can’t be strong all the time — no one can,” I whispered. “Sometimes you need someone else.”
She watched me the whole time I spoke. Her eyes were full of unshed tears, but she held a faint grin on her lips. And I felt like she knew that I was right — that she needed to let go. That she needed to trust someone. That she needed to rely on someone.
I was pissed at her parents. Had they not seen what they had done to their oldest daughter? Did they even care?
“You’ve constantly been alone, with no one there, and that’s bullshit,” I said. “But I’ll be here.”
She hugged me tight, and when she did, I couldn’t help but wonder how upset I would have been if I was in her shoes. Claire was the only person who seemed to be there for Kate — and vice versa. And now Claire was laid up in a hospital bed, having just harmed herself due to a mental disorder that no one except Kate seemed to want to deal with.
And Kate was in a hospital waiting room, clinging to a man she’d only known for a week. I didn’t know exactly how I’d feel, but I’d imagine it was confused, angry, and almost like I wasn’t strong enough to handle the tough shit. But I knew that idea was wrong. Because it was clear, at least to me, that Kate could handle pretty much anything.
“The only weakness you have,” I said, feeling a little sentimental, “is the one that everyone would be so lucky to have.”
She leaned back to look at me again. “What’s that?”
“Love. And fear of losing that love.” The truth of it ripped through me, because as much as I could try and put myself in Kate’s shoes, I couldn’t really understand what she was feeling. I didn’t really have anyone in my life that I truly loved.
I’d truly loved my dad. And I had lost him — and I knew how terrible it was. I still wasn’t over it. I’d never be able to look at Christmas the same way again. He’d died that same week. The difference with my situation was that my dad was older. A person expects their parents to die. People don’t usually want that, of course, but it’s not such a huge surprise.
Nobody expects their baby sister to go before them — let alone by her own hand.
So as much as I’d try, I’d never understand. Especially now that I didn’t have anyone left to love.
Kate nodded, agreeing with what I said. She gave me a large, enveloping hug. As I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, I realized something. Her body was relaxed, and her breathing was soft. Had it worked? Had I actually given her real comfort?
“Thank you for saying that,” she whispered in my ear.
I chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “You don’t need to ever thank me.”
She smiled and shifted herself in the chair so that her head leaned against my arm.
“So what does your dad do for a living?” I asked. “You said he’s busy all the time.”
“He's the CEO of a company.”
I laughed. Talk about vague. But just as I was about to ask what sort of company, the doctor came around the corner and asked to speak to Kate. I wondered what sort of business would pull a man so completely away from his family. I wanted to understand how he wasn’t there for his daughter…for either of his daughters.