Her voice trails off. Her face is a wall of stress.
“So, the doctors think he’ll recover all right then,” I say, attempting to refocus her on something more positive.
“Eventually,” she says with a sigh, “though he’ll always have the amputation to deal with. He has a surgery today at eleven on his other leg. It’s being fitted with an internal pin.”
“Is he staying in the Marines?”
“He’s receiving a medical discharge.” She looks at me. “You know he’s coming to live with us, right?”
I stare at her, mouth agape. “Um. No. He’s coming to live with us?”
“I thought your father would have told you. He’ll be moving in probably this winter.”
“How long will he stay?”
“As long as he needs,” she answers, fiddling with her cup.
How long is that? I wonder. “Okay, but where is he staying? The house only has two bedrooms.”
“I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that,” she says. “You know your room is the only one that’s downstairs. And your shower is the walk-in kind....”
Okay, wait—I’ve had that bedroom all my life. “You’re giving him my room?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind letting him use it awhile.”
“And where do I go?”
“I was thinking we could put a bed up in the alcove for you. There’s a closet there.”
“And no door.”
“No one goes down that hallway. You’d have it all to yourself.”
She’s moving me upstairs into a little storage space that’s down the hallway from the master bedroom. My only bathroom will be the small one she uses with just a bathtub. It has almost no cabinet or counter space, and her stuff fills it completely. “Does Dad know about this plan?”
“We’ve discussed it.”
This is unreal. I say nothing.
“Julian will have a wheelchair and crutches. That’s the main reason.”
“Where will all my stuff go?”
“Different places. You can still keep most of your closet. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want, Cami,” she says.
Where else will her nephew go if I say no to this? It’s my room or nothing. Obviously. The stairs up to the second floor are extremely steep, completely out of the question for someone on crutches. “No, it’s fine,” I say with a frown.
Estella looks at me like I’m an angel. “I knew you’d understand.”
Yeah, like I have a choice.
“I’m glad you’re here, Cami. Your father was right to have you come with me.”
“Thanks,” I say, slightly mollified.
“We’ll make the alcove nice for you, and make sure you have room for your things. You can share my closet. I can give you that whole upstairs bathroom.”
“No, that’s your space. We’ll figure out the bathroom thing somehow. Don’t worry.” Okay, this sucks.
“Good,” she says. “Ready to go?”
We continue our trek to the hospital, but both of us are quiet. Estella’s probably thinking about Julian. I’m thinking about him, and losing my room to him. But also, I’m thinking a little bit about my mother—my real mother. She disappeared from our lives when I was eight. She just left. Because of a man. Because she couldn’t take my father or me, I don’t know. Maybe she just hated Vermont. She never calls us. I have no idea where she is now. Does Estella want to fill that role for me, or is this bedroom thing her way of trying to squeeze me out of her and Dad’s life? She has her son and nephew, her own family. And I’m almost eighteen already. I just can’t tell where I stand with her yet. And now, apparently, we’ll be throwing a wounded Marine into the mix.
“Did Julian join up right after high school?” I ask, out of sheer curiosity. The hospital’s just up ahead.
“Yes, he did. He could have had his choice of colleges, but he made up his mind to enlist.” She sighs. “He’s been in the Marines for almost two years now.”
“He’s twenty?”
“Just turned. Let’s go. I want to find out what’s happening.”
We head inside and make our way back to Julian’s room. As we approach the door, I hear voices and cross my fingers that Julian won’t scream at her again. I don’t care if he screams at me, just not at Estella.
“I have to speak to Julian’s doctor,” Estella says. She looks at me like she’s waiting for me to do something about this.
“Okay,” I say uncertainly. “I’ll see if I can track him down for you.”
She goes into a sort of brief trance and then snaps out of it and enters Julian’s room. I watch her, fearing for her sanity and realizing more than ever that my father was right to have me come with her. When a nurse passes, I ask her if we can see Julian’s doctor. Her answer isn’t very promising. I slip into the room just to share the news that the doctor will come as soon as he finishes his rounds, however long that takes, and Estella turns and Julian falls into my line of vision and I’m horrified all over again. I try to hide it, but I’m not that experienced at masking such huge reactions.
“Hey, Julian,” I say with fake cheer.
Estella forces a smile, and Julian says, “Get her out.” He says it quietly this time. He turns his face away.
“I brought some German chocolate for you,” I tell him. I actually brought it for myself, but I want him to have it. I leave it on the wheelie half table that goes over his bed. “It’s a bit bitter. But very rich.”
Julian’s hand covers his eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Estella ushers me out of the room. I’m babbling some kind of apology and she’s humoring me instead of being in the room with him like she wants. I excuse myself, head for the lobby and text Taryn, my best friend who’s currently in Los Angeles studying acting at a prestigious summer arts program.
Guess where I am? I type.
PARIS? She replies. LONDON? CANNES? OMG!!! ARE YOU HERE IN L.A.???
NO, I text her. I’m at the military hospital in Bethesda.
HUH? WHY?
Estella’s nephew’s just been flown in from Afghanistan.
HOT MARINE? she texts.
No! He’s a mess. He lost one leg, broke the other...broken nose...neck brace.
I have to wait awhile for the reply. HOT WOUNDED MARINE??
He’s a TRAIN WRECK and a major jerk. He yells at Estella and throws things.
HOT WOUNDED MARINE—WITH ATTITUDE?? Taryn texts.
I roll my eyes and grin, shake my head. You’re insane, you know this.
SPEAKING OF WHICH, I GOTTA GO BRING ON THE CRAZY (ACTING CLASS ;). WAIT, WHAT DOES HE LOOK LIKE WHEN HE’S NOT A MESS? ACH! STOP DISTRACTING ME WITH STORIES OF HOT, HARD AND WOUNDED PISSED-OFF MARINES! I HAVE TO GO TO CLASS!!!
It feels good to laugh.
Taryn’s crazy—in a great way. Crazy-talented