Caroline pushed open the door, careful to keep her emotions from registering on her face. Not that this was difficult. Her natural physical reaction when confronted with a tragedy of any sort was to shut down. Her face would go blank; she would get almost preternaturally calm. A defense mechanism, Peggy had once explained, although the press never failed to excoriate her for it, tarring her with the labels “cold” and “unemotional,” when the exact opposite was true.
The room was in relative darkness, the only light coming from whatever late-afternoon sun had managed to penetrate the draped window on the far wall. A TV across from the bed was tuned to an all-news channel, a constant scroll of the day’s headlines streaming across the bottom of the screen. In the middle of the room was a hospital bed, and in the middle of the bed sat Becky, a gaunt figure wearing a quilted blue housecoat and a short dark wig that sat a little too low on her forehead.
“Caroline,” Becky said in greeting, muting the TV and waving her former sister-in-law toward the easy chair next to the bed. A second chair, this one high-backed and uncomfortable-looking, stood in front of the bathroom.
“Whose stupid idea was this?” Caroline said, the door swinging shut as she approached the bed and leaned in to give Becky a kiss on the cheek. She fought the urge to straighten the wig, fearing that such an intimate gesture might be perceived as presumptuous.
“Definitely not mine,” Becky said. “Sit down. You look terrific. As always.”
“Thanks.” Caroline touched her own hair self-consciously.
“It’s really nice to see you again. How have you been?”
Caroline lowered herself into the light brown leather lounger, deciding to focus on Becky’s eyes, which were the same intense brown they’d always been. “I’m fine. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
“I wish I’d known.”
“You couldn’t have done anything.”
“I could have been there for you.”
“Really? Would you have moved to L.A.?”
Caroline was silent.
“Sorry,” Becky said. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”
“I deserved it. It’s such a cliché, telling someone you’ll be there for them when you both know you won’t be.”
“I certainly wasn’t there for you,” Becky said. There was no need for clarification. Both women understood exactly what she was referring to.
“You had a lot of things on your plate,” Caroline said.
“And we weren’t exactly close at that point.”
“Not like we used to be,” Caroline acknowledged. “I never quite understood what happened.”
“What happened,” Becky repeated. “Your mother. Your brother. Your mother.”
Caroline smiled.
“How is the dragon lady?”
“Still breathing fire.”
“Yeah. That woman will outlive even Keith Richards. Sorry, I shouldn’t talk like that. She is your mother.”
“That’s all right. It’s hard to argue with the truth.”
Although the truth was that, in more ways than not, Becky was exactly like Caroline’s mother. She was stubborn, opinionated, and unforgiving. Once you entered her bad books, you stayed there. Neither woman would budge an inch. Mary had never forgiven Becky for persuading Steve to elope to Las Vegas without a word to anyone until the deed was done. Becky had never forgiven Mary for not welcoming her into the family with open arms. It hadn’t helped that she’d made absolutely no attempt to win Mary over. Mary liked to be wooed almost as much as she liked to nurse a grudge, and Becky hadn’t given her that satisfaction. Steve, an outwardly strong man whose confident swagger belied a surprising weakness at his core, had been caught in the middle, his allegiance constantly vacillating between the two. The marriage was doomed from the start. The fact that it had managed to survive a full three years after the breakup of Caroline’s own marriage was a constant source of amazement to her.
“So fill me in on everything,” Becky instructed. “How’s Michelle?”
“She’s okay.”
“Just okay?”
“She’s a teenager. What can I say?”
“Things still strained with Hunter?”
“We manage. Apparently he’s seeing someone.”
“No kidding. Is it serious?”
“According to Michelle, it is. She says they’re talking marriage.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“No feelings one way or the other,” Caroline lied.
“Do you think they’ll start a family?”
“Probably. From what I understand, she’s a lot younger than Hunter.”
“And how do you feel about that?” Becky pressed.
“I can’t do anything about the fact that she’s younger.”
“I meant about Hunter starting another family.”
“I know.”
Becky nodded understanding. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Caroline asked.
“Are you seeing anybody?”
“God, no.”
“Why not? You’re a beautiful woman. You’re smart. Interesting. I’m sure you could have guys lining up.”
“A lineup of men is the last thing on my mind.”
“What is on your mind?” Becky asked.
“Actually, I try not to think most of the time.”
“Probably a good idea. So what do you do when you’re not thinking?”
“I eat, sleep, go to work. The usual.”
“You went back to teaching?”
“Finally found someone brave enough to hire me.”