Are You Sleeping

She nodded and pushed some blocks in his direction.

“Be nice to Uncle Caleb,” Lanie said to Ann, as she led me into the kitchen. To me, she said, “She must like him. She won’t even let me or Adam play with those blocks.”

I looked over my shoulder to see Caleb earnestly discussing building plans with Ann and smiled. “Caleb works with children a lot. They tend to gravitate to him.”

“He’s a natural,” she said, setting the wine down on the counter and reaching for a pitcher of iced tea. As she poured me a glass, she continued, “He’ll make a good father.”

“Mm,” I murmured noncommittally. I had never allowed myself to consider children—or marriage, or any other trappings of the future—because I had always believed Caleb was one breath away from leaving me. Now that he not only knew the truth about my past, but also had reaffirmed his love, I didn’t have anything standing in the way, but I didn’t yet feel comfortable enough with my sister to reveal any of my insecurities to her.

Lanie, misunderstanding my hesitation, reached over and touched my hand. “And you’ll make a good mother.”

My skin warmed under her touch, reminding me of a time that Lanie’s body had once felt like an extension of my own. My heart twisted, tugged in opposite directions by the pain of past betrayals and the hope of a reunited future.

But I couldn’t find the words to say those things, and so instead I laughed and told her about the time that I had somehow been roped into presiding over a children’s story hour at the bookstore, and how the children had smelled my fear and run roughshod over me, how the entire situation had devolved into thrown cookies and armpit noises.

Just as I reached the conclusion, Ann came running into the kitchen, holding some sort of Lego construction in her hands. After Lanie had praised her and held the object (an ambulance, I was told) out for me to similarly laud, Ann retreated to the living room.

I noticed the tender smile on Lanie’s face as she watched her go. It was an expression unlike any I had seen on my sister before.

“She’s a great kid,” I said.

“Thanks.” Lanie smiled. “But you know who she reminds me of? You.”

“Me? No. She looks just like you.”

Lanie laughed and swatted at me. “And you know who else looks just like me. But I mean her personality. Take those Legos, for example. Do you remember when Grammy and Pops gave us that Lego set for Christmas? I was completely uninterested in it, but you constructed all these amazing structures.”

“Yeah, and then you wanted to play with it.” I smiled.

“And do you know what I caught her watching on TV yesterday? Some sort of documentary about Magellan on the History channel. You know she didn’t get that from me.”

“Or Adam,” I couldn’t help but add. “History always bored him.”

“Yeah.” Lanie nodded, quiet. “It’s nice, though, you know? Having her take after you so much. It made missing you hurt a little less.”

“Lanie—” I started, unsure what I wanted to say.

“But,” she continued quickly, determinedly upbeat, “it also makes me happy for her. Because I think it means that she’s going to turn out okay.”

“Of course she’s going to turn out okay,” I said, surprised. “Why would you even think that she wouldn’t?”

“Because of me.” She shrugged. “Because half the time I send her to school without any lunch money, I regularly forget to sign permission slips, and with the frequency with which I do laundry, I’m surprised she has anything to wear at all.”

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. Being a parent is hard work.”

“It’s worth it, though,” she said, looking up suddenly, her eyes wide and shiny. “I didn’t really understand what I was getting myself into when I decided to keep her. And there was a point where I thought maybe I was making a terrible mistake. It was going to be so much responsibility, completely change my life, and then, to top it all off, she was going to be completely dependent on me for years. But then she was born, and all of a sudden it all made sense. I didn’t know that I could ever feel this strongly about anything; I didn’t even know love like this existed. She’s my whole world, Josie.”

“I’m glad,” I said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “You’ve really changed, Lanie. I’m proud of you.”

She turned her hand over in mine and hooked her ring finger around mine, the way we had when we were kids. She smiled ruefully. “I haven’t changed, though, not really. I’m still the same mess I’ve always been. I’ve just learned how to hide it better. I have to, otherwise Adam will leave me and take Ann, and she’s all I have.”

“Adam wouldn’t—” I started to say, then realized I had no idea what Adam would or would not do.

“Yes he would. Not to be spiteful, but because he worries I’m going to turn out like Mom. Or worse.”

I looked at her sharply, suddenly wary. “What does that mean?”

Before Lanie could respond, the back door swung open and Adam entered, carrying a grocery bag. He glanced at me, and a strange expression passed over his face—something between concern and relief.

“Josie, hi,” he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Good to see you.”

I returned a distracted hello, wondering what exactly Lanie had meant by or worse. Was there something specific she was worried about?

“Got those tomatoes,” Adam said to Lanie as he pulled a box of grape tomatoes from the grocery bag and rinsed them in the sink.

“Thanks,” Lanie said, fishing out a handful and dropping them on a cutting board. As she selected a knife, she asked me, “You like tomatoes, right, Josie?”

I nodded, vaguely troubled that my own twin sister couldn’t remember whether I liked tomatoes. It might have been nearly a decade since we had shared a meal, but we had lived together for more than half our lives.

“I ran into Ted Leland at the grocery store,” Adam said. “My dad’s friend, remember? We went to a Christmas party at his house a couple of years ago.”

Lanie frowned, her hand hestitating above a tomato. I gave her a sharp look, but Adam, oblivious, continued.

“Anyway, he’s got a son who’s a couple of years older than us and is moving back to town. The Lelands are throwing a welcome party in a couple weeks and invited us.”

“Ted’s wife,” Lanie said tightly, her fingers curling and uncurling around the handle of the knife. “She teaches at the college, right?”

Adam nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s right.”

Kathleen Barber's books