They got to the theater almost a half hour before the movie started, so Meg gave Tessa money for snacks and sent her and the kids out to the concession stand while Meg and Sarah camped out in the virtually empty auditorium, saving their seats.
“No one’s here,” Meg said, scanning the rows of empty seats.
“The movie has been out for months, which I like. I love having the theater to ourselves,” Sarah said, propping her feet up on the seat in front of her. “When it’s empty like this, I don’t have to worry about Ella annoying people by talking or Brennan bouncing in his seat.”
“Your kids are still so little.”
“Ella’s easy. A little clingy, but she’s so sweet, I don’t really mind. It’s Brennan who pushes my buttons. He just doesn’t listen.”
“He’s only eight.”
“Almost nine.”
“But that’s young.”
“Dad expected us to listen and follow directions by the time we were three.”
Meg shrugged, unable to disagree. Obedience was as important as respect in their family. If you were told to do something, you did it. The first time you were asked.
Well, unless you were Brianna, because Brianna had her own rules. Probably because Brianna was her own species. Sarah laughed.
Meg glanced at her. “What?”
“I was just thinking about Bree.”
“Thought you were mad at her?”
“It’s hard to stay mad at Brianna forever. She’s just so . . . Bree. Free Bree. Doesn’t listen to anyone. Not even Mom or Dad.”
Meg didn’t answer, and for several minutes neither said anything, both looking at the screen, reading the parade of movie trivia, before Meg broke the silence. “What do you think is wrong with her?”
“Besides being certifiably crazy?”
“Sarah!”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “I’m joking. Come on. You’re the one always feuding with her.”
“We’ve called a truce.”
“Is that because she looks like she’s dying?”
Meg suddenly looked stricken. “Don’t say that!”
“I was joking.”
“But she does look terrible. She’s skin and bones.”
“And jaundiced.”
“What do you think it is?” Meg asked.
“I don’t know. Dad told Kit he thought Bree had malaria.”
“Malaria?”
Sarah chewed on her bottom lip. “Kit thinks it’s hepatitis.”
“And Brianna won’t say.” Meg sighed. “That’s the part that worries me. If it was nothing, she’d tell us. But she’s not talking about it, which makes me wonder if it isn’t more serious.”
“Like what? Cancer?”
“Or she’s HIV positive.”
“Meg, stop.” Sarah jerked upright. “That’s not . . .” Her voice drifted off as she considered the possibility. Brianna did live in the Congo. She was a nurse specializing in infectious diseases. Brianna was the family wild child and admitted to experimenting with drugs, as well as enjoying . . . “adventurous” . . . sex. But Brianna was also street-smart. She knew how to take care of herself. Didn’t she?
The kids returned just then, their laughing voices echoing in the hall just before they emerged into the dimly lit theater, carrying buckets of popcorn and cold drinks with boxes of candy tucked under their arms.
Sarah watched Tessa stop and help Ella up the stairs. What a good cousin Tessa was, she thought, before glancing at Meg. “Do you really think it could be HIV?” she whispered.
Meg whispered back, “I don’t know, but my gut says it’s serious.”
* * *
After the movie, they stopped at a playground so Brennan could burn off some energy before they returned to the house. The late afternoon gleamed gold with the lingering sun.
“Love the longer days,” Meg said, taking a seat on the park bench closest to the swings where Tessa was pushing Ella while Gabi and Brennan raced up and down the slides. “Have been craving more sunlight.” She looked at Sarah, who was standing next to the bench. “You don’t get a shortage of light in Florida, though, do you?”
“No, but I miss the light here in Northern California. It’s different. And you still get seasons here, and none of our humidity.”
“Do you think you’ll stay in Tampa when Boone retires?”
“Hope not.” Sarah saw Meg’s expression and hurriedly added, “I’ve made good friends there and Tampa’s a great city, but I miss being near family.”
“Will you come back here, then?”
“I don’t know. Boone doesn’t love the Bay Area. It doesn’t feel like home to him.”