I could tell her, right now, how Lionel hasn’t been taking his meds and how I think their relationship isn’t good for him. But it’s not my place to say something. If Lion was mad at the idea that I’d tell our parents, I can’t imagine he’d be okay with me telling his new girlfriend. Just as with my parents, not telling her feels like watching a bomb slowly tick down to its explosion, but setting it off early seems just as, if not more, dangerous.
“Do you think it’s because of his bipolar?” When I look up, she’s leaning forward, eyes more golden than green and a little scared. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I know mood swings are part of it. And he was fine that whole night and then he was so angry out of nowhere.… Is that normal for him?”
But he wasn’t fine. She doesn’t know him well enough to read his moods, the slightest change in his behavior.
I touch my nose ring, tap it three times before I respond. “I don’t know if I should get into that. Lion is kind of touchy about it. You should probably talk to him yourself.”
She shakes her head. “I’m asking because I want to hear what you think, Suzette. Is this something I should be worried about? I really, really like him. A lot. But that scared me. And I feel shitty being scared. Lionel isn’t a scary person. But he didn’t seem like himself.”
I shake the ice around in my cup as I weigh the good of telling Rafaela Lion’s secret against the bad of facing him after he finds out. My lips choose for me.
“He’s not himself. He’s off his meds.” I close my eyes for a second to regroup, because I felt dizzy, just saying those words. Telling Emil was different. Our families are close and they’ve always known our secrets. And Emil isn’t dating my brother.
As I sit here, waiting for her response, I wonder how much longer they’ll be together after this. I remember what DeeDee said, that Rafaela has a reputation for dating shitty guys, and my stomach hurts as I think about her putting Lionel into that category.
And when she still doesn’t speak, I blurt, “You can’t say anything to him, Rafaela. I’m not telling you this because of what you said the other night… in the bathroom. I don’t want you to hate him. I want…”
I don’t know what I want. I’ve mentally replayed that moment in the bathroom almost as often as my night with Emil. No one has ever implied that they wanted me when I couldn’t have them. Are we just supposed to go on pretending that we’re not attracted to each other now that she’s put it out in the open?
“I know.” Rafaela watches me over the lid of her coffee as she takes a long drink. “And I don’t hate him. I… I feel relieved, actually.”
“What?”
“Well, it would be pretty frightening if he was acting that way on medication.”
“That still doesn’t make it okay. Aren’t you worried about him? Do you know what can happen if he doesn’t get back on track?” I feel like my mother, like I’m lecturing someone younger than me on something she should already know.
“Suzette, lots of people don’t take their meds and they’re fine. It doesn’t always have to end in some tragic story. Some of the best artists in history had mood disorders.” She sighs. “You can’t make someone do something they don’t want to. If he doesn’t want to take his meds…”
She trails off as if that’s the end of it.
“You can if they might hurt themselves without it.”
Rafaela frowns. “Has he ever been hospitalized?”
“No. But you haven’t seen him depressed. You haven’t heard him talking when it’s really bad.”
“Is he seeing a therapist?”
I nod.
“Well, then he can’t be so bad, right? His shrink would let your parents know if something seemed off?”
I shrug. Maybe she’s right. I’m the only one freaking out about him, but he’s around other people every day. Mom and Saul know what to look out for, same as Dr. T. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe this is why Mom sent me away last year.
We sit in silence for a while. The man next to us leaves, but not before glancing over with an expression that rests somewhere between reproachful and curious. I glare at him until he walks away.
“Look, I have four tickets for the cemetery movie this weekend,” Rafaela finally says. “Dazed and Confused. I bought them at the beginning of the summer, figuring I’d go with Grace and the girls. But I’d rather take Lionel and you. And you can bring your dude. Is that weird?”
I shake my head. Maybe it would have been, ten minutes ago. But her response to Lionel’s secret isn’t what I expected, and she lied to me soon after we met, about the guy from the Palisades. Something has changed, even if I can’t just turn off my physical attraction to her. And the truth is that Lionel won’t want to hang out with me if she’s not around. I’m back to giving him a wide berth and he’s back to letting me.
“So you’ll go?”
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll ask Emil.”
I should feel better, having told someone else the truth about my brother. Maybe the most important person to him right now, even if I don’t want to admit it. But she doesn’t agree with me or my parents or anyone else who really knows Lionel, so my effort seems futile.
I need to tell someone who will do something. As much as I hate to admit it to myself, I have to find a way to tell Saul.
twenty.
We can go anywhere on our adventures, as Saul calls the afternoons we spend together. We like to explore the city, all the corners of Los Angeles that people have forgotten or don’t know about or have deemed too far to drive to. I feel most comfortable when we’re at the museum, and this time he says we’ll be uninterrupted and free to spend the day as we please.
“See? I even turned off my phone.” He holds up the blank screen for proof.
“I’m holding you to that,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
I’m trying to be normal with him, but there’s nothing normal about how I feel. My stomach has been churning all day from nerves as I go over and over in my head how to tell him about Lionel. It would have been easier to tell my mother, but Saul deserves to hear it from me. I don’t want to ruin our day, so I decide to wait until we’ve walked around awhile.
There’s a Matisse exhibit I’ve wanted to check out, but we stop at the Tar Pits first, heading down the sidewalk along Wilshire. We cross the grassy entrance and find an empty bench in front of the models of the prehistoric animals.
“How’s the flower shop?” Saul asks as we sit.
“Fine.” I ignore how Rafaela’s face flashes through my mind. I wish I’d never agreed to our double date this weekend. Maybe there won’t even be a date, after Saul finds out about Lionel. “Good. Ora said my last arrangement was ‘full of passion,’ whatever that means.”
Saul raises an eyebrow. “Could it be we have a budding florist in our midst?”
“Um, no.” I make a face. “I mean, it’s not a bad job, but I still don’t know much about flowers. And it’s not like they really mean anything. People get them to say they’re sorry. Then they die.”