The Love Sucks Club(74)

“Bye, Dana.”

Walking back to my house, I kick a stone down the lane. When I pass George’s house, I spot him raking his leaves in the front yard. He waves and smiles, and I return the gesture without stopping to chat. Back at my door, I turn in circles, scoping out the yard. No particular tingles of warning, no impending panic attack, no sense of an ambush waiting for me inside. I’ve been complaining about my visions forever, but I don’t think I’d be happy to lose them completely. What would I do if I wasn’t the weird, psychic writer? I’d have to accept being just a weird writer. Imagining having this conversation with Sam, I smile to myself.

As I’m standing in my doorway, I hear Susannah’s jeep coming up the road behind me. She jumps from the jeep and I throw my arms around her.

“Susannah, what do you dream about?”

“What do you mean? Like my nighttime dreams?”

“No, I mean, your dreams about your life? What do you want from it? What are your hopes? Do you want to go skydiving? Do you want to paint? Become a doctor? Travel to Europe? What is your dream?”

She pulls back from the hug and stares at me for a second. Opening my door, she walks into the kitchen and heads for the coffee pot.

I know she’s thinking about it, so I don’t speak. She refills my cup before pouring some for herself. When she finally pulls up a stool to the counter, Frank jumps up in front of her and bangs his head against her hand. Stroking him, she’s quiet for a few minutes. Patiently drinking my coffee, I look at her, noticing the fine lines that are starting to form at the corners of her eyes. I can feel time moving in front of my eyes. Smiling at my sister across the counter, I can see her as an old woman, with a head of white hair. Her face alternates between being pinched and despairing and being open and lively, like Roxanne’s. It looks like she’s hovering on the edge of two futures. Reaching across the counter, I hold out my hand. Susannah looks at it for a second and then puts her hand in mine.

“Dana,” she says, quietly. “All I have ever really dreamed about in my life is being happy.”

Surprised, I don’t know how to respond. Squeezing her hand, I smile again, trying not to show how close I am to crying.

“So, are you?”

“Not right now.” She shakes her head. “Honestly, Dana, I don’t know. Sometimes I think I am, and sometimes I wonder if I ever will be.”

“That’s most of us, Susannah.”

Before she can answer, someone knocks on the door and Susannah gets up to answer it. She opens the door and Jackie walks in.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say, standing with my fists clenched. “Is it going to come to this?”

Jackie holds her hands up in a gesture of peace. “I’m not here to fight.”

Susannah scoffs under her breath, but doesn’t say anything.

Moving out from behind the counter, I walk up to Jackie, ready to fight. “I’m done with this, you know. I’m really done.”

“I’m honestly not here to fight. I swear to you, I’m not.”

Crossing my arms tightly over my chest, I lean against the counter. “Well why are you here?”

“I ran into your friend Esmé. She explained to me some of the things that happened with Fran.”

Irritated, I glare at her. “She had no right.”

“It explains a lot.”

Susannah clears her throat. “I really think you should leave.”

I smile at my sister and nod my head toward the living room. “Why don’t you wait in the living room or on the deck? I’ll be done here in a minute.”

She looks doubtful, but complies anyway. When she’s gone, I turn back to Jackie. “Seriously, Jackie? I don’t understand why you can’t just get out of my life?”

“We were together for seven years. We lived together for five of those years. I would think there’s still a connection between us that hasn’t gone away just because we aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“There’s no connection, Jackie. We had a relationship and now we don’t.”

Pursing her lips, she stares down at the floor.

I don’t understand what she wants from me. I don’t owe her anything. Just because we were lovers doesn’t mean I have a responsibility to take care of her for the rest of her life. What the hell? When do I get to be free of someone who held me back for so long? Thinking about Roxanne, I consider the possibility that it wasn’t my ex who was holding me back, but my own fear.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” I ask her.

She nods so I pour her a cup. No sugar, a dash of half and half. There used to be something comforting in knowing how she took her coffee and how she liked her eggs. As much as I profess to like excitement in my life, I did enjoy those mornings we sat in our respective chairs reading, or doing crossword puzzles, or playing Scrabble. Jackie has perched on a stool with her cup of coffee in both hands. Looking at her, I almost let the thought creep in that now that she’s sober, maybe we could make another go. Laughing, I shake my head. What the hell is wrong with me?