“Well, she’s always been a bit clairvoyant, so let’s hope she’s right.” He walked to Becky’s bedside and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then leaned in to kiss his sister, whispering in her ear. “She’s been saying some pretty strange things. Try not to let her upset you.” He straightened back up, dragged the other chair to the side of the bed, then reached over to adjust Becky’s wig. “That’s better,” he said with a gentleness that surprised Caroline.
Too bad he hadn’t shown such tenderness toward her when they were married, she thought. Maybe if he had, they never would have divorced. There wouldn’t be all these unresolved issues between them.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said to Caroline. “I told Becky she should call you. She has all this guilt she’s been carrying around, thinks she deserted you in your hour of need,” he continued under his breath. “Anyway, I wasn’t sure she’d listen to me. She never used to,” he said, speaking to Becky now. He smiled, although the wattage of his killer smile was noticeably dim. “Are you hungry?” he asked his former wife.
Becky shook her head, then winced in obvious pain.
“What hurts?” Steve asked.
“Everything. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”
“I’ll call the nurse,” Caroline said.
“Don’t,” Steve said. “I have something that’ll work better than any pain medication she’ll give you.” He pulled a small plastic bag out of the side pocket of his pants and waved it in front of them.
“Is that what I think it is?” Caroline asked.
“Mexico’s finest.” Steve put the bag in his lap and pulled some small squares of paper from his back pocket.
It was Caroline’s turn to wince, as she did every time someone mentioned Mexico. “You can’t be serious about smoking dope in here.”
“Of course I’m serious. There’s no good reason for Becky to be in pain. Not when there’s a simple solution.” He sprinkled some weed onto one of the square pieces of paper and licked its sides together.
“Simple and illegal,” Caroline protested.
“Then let them arrest me,” Becky said, her voice surprisingly strong, as Steve lit the fat cigarette and took a long drag before holding it to his ex-wife’s lips.
Caroline watched Becky open her mouth and inhale deeply.
Steve extended the joint toward his sister. Caroline shook her head. “Come on,” he told her. “It’ll do you good.”
Caroline hesitated before taking the joint from his outstretched hand. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smoked a joint, deciding it had probably been in college. Hunter had never approved of getting high, although he had no such reservations about drinking, something he did often in the months after Caroline had returned home from Rosarito.
“So, what do you think?” Steve asked, taking another drag before returning it to Becky’s lips. “Good stuff, no?”
“Great stuff,” Becky answered, falling back against her pillow and closing her eyes.
“Smelly stuff.” Caroline pushed herself out of her chair and walked to the window, cranking it open and waving the sweet-smelling smoke toward the outside. “If anyone were to walk in…”
“Nobody’s going to walk in without knocking first.”
“You did.”
Steve’s response was to take another drag, then pass the joint back to her.
“Where do you get this stuff anyway?” Caroline asked, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in her lungs until she thought she would burst.
“I have a guy,” Steve answered.
Caroline nodded, beginning to experience a pleasant sensation at the nape of her neck, as if her head was about to separate from her body. Steve always “had a guy.” Ever since they were teenagers, Steve had managed to find someone to help him shortcut the system, whether it was to buy him alcohol when he was too young to do it himself, or supply him with illegal drugs, or front him the money for a seat at a high-stakes poker game. And, of course, if things didn’t go quite according to plan, or if they went south altogether, there was always their mother to come running to his rescue.
Their mother—the biggest “guy” of all.
“Feeling better now?” Steve asked Becky when there was nothing left of the expertly rolled joint but a burning ember between his fingertips.
“Hmm,” Becky muttered, drifting toward unconsciousness.
“It’s pretty powerful stuff,” Steve said to Caroline. “She’ll probably sleep for a while. You don’t have to stay.”
“Neither do you.”
“On the contrary. It’s the least I can do.”
Yes, you’ve always been very good at doing the least, Caroline thought, wondering what had provoked her brother’s change of heart but reluctant to question it.
“I hope she didn’t upset you too much,” Steve said. “I know that wasn’t her intention.”
“She didn’t. Actually, if anything, she did the opposite. I’ve been concentrating so much on the negative lately, obsessing on all the bad things that could have happened to Samantha. And she gave me hope.”
“Well, then, it’s good she called you.”
Becky stirred, opened her eyes. “Is Caroline here?” she asked, as if unaware of their earlier exchange.
“Right here,” Caroline told her.
“Caroline?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know.”
“Forgive me,” she said.