Clarity Page 12

“And what does it look like?” I ask her.

  “It looks like I’m a psycho with bulimia and I’m trying to ensure that there’s nothing in my body so I don’t look fat in my wedding dress,” Carmen says. “But really, I just drank wayyyy too much last night. The girls were just forcing me to take shots, left, right, and center. It was out of control. I’m never going to touch tequila again. Ever.”

  I lift my eyebrows. “I see that you’re still the same old lovable, responsible Carmen.”

  “Shut up,” she grumbles. “It’s not fair. If you were around more often, you’d see my better moments. You’d see the highlights. You’d see that I’ve changed a lot and grown up. But the first time you see me in years, you happen to walk in on me while I’m on my knees and—” She trails off as her body begins to shudder again. She wraps her arms around the toilet bowl and begins to retch violently.

  With a frown, I crouch down to sit on the floor beside her. I rub my hand over her back soothingly. I can feel that she is wearing a tiny silk nightgown, and I worry that she must be freezing with her bare skin pressed against the cold bathroom tiles. When she finishes voiding the contents of her stomach, I try to think of something witty to say to distract her.

  “Many women spend their whole lives dreaming about their perfect wedding day,” I tell her. “Personally, I think yours is off to an excellent start.”

  “You jerk,” Carmen says, hitting me in the arm. “Thanks for being a bucket of sunshine!” She pauses, and her playfulness disappears completely as her voice grows dark and quiet. “Why did I even invite you to come here? It’s not like you care. It’s not like you want to be here. Why would you? You’re so superior to us, and you don’t need anyone. I bet you enjoy sitting there and patronizing me.”

  “Hey,” I say softly. “That isn’t true. You know I love you. And today’s going to be great! Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  “No,” she says softly. She clings to the toilet bowl as her shoulders begin to tremble gently with the onset of tears. Her sobs are silent, but filled with misery. “I don’t have the energy to move. Go away.”

  As my hand rests on her shoulder blade, I feel her anguish seep into me from the connection of our skin. Something is really wrong. I remember what Liam said about using touch to understand others. It’s too powerful. It’s too upsetting and heartbreaking to know that someone I love is so deeply hurt, and that she doesn’t even trust me enough to tell me why. I know that it’s my fault, and I need to prove that I care about her all over again. I need to be strong for her—today more than any other day.

  Sliding closer to my older sister, I encircle her body in a cozy hug. I rest my head on her shoulder. “Fine. Let’s just hang out here by the toilet! It’s really comfortable here on the cold, hard floor. In the years to come, we will often reminisce about this special day, and how you spent the entire morning puking and crying on the toilet.”

  “I hate you,” she mumbles, but when her shoulders shake again, it’s with laughter. “You’re so stupid, Helen.”

  I am surprised when she turns toward me and hugs me back fiercely.

  “I missed you,” she mumbles into my shirt. “You stupid jerk.”

  For a moment, I just sit with her on the ground and hold her. I run my hand over her hair, and it feels as soft and silky as ever—I wonder what color it is at the moment? Her body begins to relax, and the tension leaves her shoulders. I feel relieved, like a great crisis has been averted. I also feel somewhat... maternal. Tears spring to my eyes as I acknowledge that it’s my job to take over Mom’s duties in this family. I should have been here to take care of both Carmen and Dad. But instead, I was weak and selfish. I can’t be that way anymore.

  “You need to get some water and eat something,” I tell Carmen, pulling out of the hug and rising to my feet. I reach down to carefully tug on her arms to coax her into standing. “Come on! It’s your wedding day. Isn’t it going to take several hours to get your hair and makeup done?”

  “Only four,” she says tiredly as she struggles to stand. She leans on me for support. “Hey, Helen—can you bring me one of those cupcakes Dad got for you? He wouldn’t let me touch them yesterday, and I was trying to stay away from anything that might jeopardize me fitting into my dress. But I could really use a pick-me-up right about now.”

  “Um,” I say guiltily, looking down at the ground.

  “Helen?” Carmen asks in horror. “Please tell me you didn’t...”

  “I ate all the cupcakes.”

  “Fuck you!” she roars, with the bellow of a great beast about to trample a small city.

  I flinch, a little bit worried that she’s going to tackle me to begin an all-out brawl. We might be grown women now, and we might try our best to act the way we should, but we had more than a few physical fights when we were younger. They were always great fun. A good rough-and-tumble was always therapeutic in letting off steam. If she needs one now, I am more than happy to oblige—and to take most of the punches so that her face can remain flawless for the wedding photographs.

  Carmen growls at me angrily, but she quickly breaks down into laughter. “All of them? Seriously, you ate all of them?”

  “Sorry,” I say sheepishly, and I feel a blush staining my cheeks.

  “Psh, whatever,” she says in frustration. I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. I know that she isn’t really angry, and that she’s feeling a bit better.

  “You smell disgusting,” I tell her, wrinkling my nose, “it’s an interesting odor that’s somewhere between manure and wet dog. You better take a shower, or your fiancé might change his mind and marry someone who isn’t covered in vomit.”

  Carmen giggles and moves away from me to turn on the bath. “Thanks for coming, Hellie,” she says softly. “This wedding stuff has been so stressful, and I’m just a pile of nerves. I really needed my sister.”

  Chapter Eleven