So I threw the wash in the dryer and a new load in the washer and waited, walking without
aim from the kitchen to the living room windows. I turned the TV on and then paced down the
hall. I paused in front of Rocco’s chaotic room. For a second, I thought I might have been
hopeless enough to clean his room; that is until manifold, nauseating images of what I could
uncover in a teenage boy’s room suddenly popped into my head. I gently kicked the clothes out
of the way so that I could close his door and creep away like the thought had never crossed my
mind.
I eventually reached the end of the hallway and of the house, and wandered into the library. My
roving eye was drawn to the piano. Bill had been a natural at everything he touched, music was
no exception. Anything I produced in his shadow was a failure in comparison to what my brother
could do. Sooner or later, with Bill’s help, like always, I had been able to memorize sequences
of keys, enough to fool my parents into thinking that I could play, enough for them to stop
cycling piano teachers through the house.
Taking advantage of the fact that there was no one in the house to deride my triumphant musical
comeback, I sat at the piano and started punching the ivories. As I brutally attempted and
reattempted to recall the theme song from Cheers, I almost fell backward off the bench when
something moved from the corner.
“That sounds really awful,” Carly said, pointing out the obvious, standing by the couch.
I was never happier to see her. “I thought you were gone with the rest of them?”
“I decided to take a few days off and stay here instead.” She approached and sat next to me on
the bench.
“You mean you were told to stay back to babysit me,” I corrected.
“Something like that,” she said, smiling, gliding her fingers over the piano keys. “I don’t
think anyone has played this thing since Bill died. He was a really good musician.”
It had surprised me to hear Carly talk about my brother in that way. “Don’t you hate my
brother for what he did?” Still, I wasn’t sure how Carly would react to my question, and
whether I should seek shelter behind a couch or just curl up into the fetal position right away
to avoid pummeling damage to any vital organs.
But Carly was quite calm. “No. I don’t. I know I should and it would probably be a lot easier
if I did, but I don’t.”
“Do you hate me then?” I said, practically whispering.
“No, I don’t hate you either,” she said, laughing. “But it’s definitely a shock to see you,
here, after so many years.” She lifted her eyes. “When you first got here, it was almost like
having Bill here again. Seeing you, it just brought back a lot of the anger that I had when Bill
died. I couldn’t believe that Cameron would have brought you here, that he would do that to me.
I understand why now.”
“What do you mean you understand why?” I pressed.
Carly smiled wider. “That’s something you need to talk to Cameron about, not me.”
I made a mental note to remember to ask Cameron.
“Why do you think he did that to you? I mean Bill, and the whole Frances thing. I know that he
would have loved you very much. Given my family’s history, how angry he was, it doesn’t make
any sense to me that he would have ever done that.”
Carly sighed and paused, her face slightly tensing. “I don’t know. I never saw it coming, to
tell you the truth. Even when Bill started getting weird and secretive, I never once thought he
would do that. Of all the things that I imagined, that was never an alternative.”
“Did you know he was taking drugs?” I asked, aware that I was looking to make excuses now.
“No … I don’t know … Maybe,” Carly said shaking her head. “If you would have asked me this
question a year before he died, I would have said absolutely not. Bill hated drugs, which was
pretty funny given our line of business. But then he started to change.”
She glanced down while sadness passed over her porcelain face. “A few months before he died, he
started waking up in the middle of the night, in cold sweats, screaming, not making any sense.
He was losing so much weight, and the way he was handling the business … he was going to get
all of us killed.” Her eyes came back to me, and she held them there. “Emmy, this life that we
lead, it’s not for everyone. Most people can’t handle it. Your brother was too sensitive … he
just couldn’t handle it all anymore, it was killing him. I think that he wanted to get out
before it killed him. The drugs, Frances, they were his way to escape it all.” She dragged
breath. “When he died, the business had been falling apart for a long time. Cameron brought it
all back. If it wasn’t for him … we might not … we definitely wouldn’t have survived.”
She took another breath. I couldn’t take my eyes and ears off her.
Then her lips crept up. I realized it was for my benefit. “You know, Cameron’s really
brilliant. He got into MIT after he graduated from high school.”
I wasn’t really shocked. I already knew of his brilliance. “Why didn’t he go?”
“Your brother called him with a better offer.”