Authors: Cheryl Rainfield
My wheezing gets raspier.
“
Could I come over after school?
”
“
Why?
”
Jenna asks.
“
I had another asthma attack. You know how Mom gets. And I haven ’
t seen you in weeks.
”
“
Oh, Katie! Not another one? ...How bad was it? Do I need to get your nebulizer out?
”
“
No, it wasn ’
t that bad. But the school has to call her every time it happens. So I can come?
”
“
Yes—as long as you stop bad-mouthing Mason. He ’
s my husband, Kate.
”
“
Okay, ”
I say. But I know I can ’
t leave it like that. I have to find out the truth. Because if Mason really is beating Jenna, I have to help her.
Jenna yanks open her apartment door after my first knock, like she ’
s been waiting for me.
I hug her. She hesitates, then hugs me back. It ’
s only been a year since she eloped, but it feels a lot longer. And every time I see her, she feels farther away.
I step back and study her face. She ’
s got shadows under her eyes, faint beneath her careful makeup, and her mouth has that tight look she gets when she ’
s trying to hold in emotion. And on her neck is a faint red spot. She holds her body stiffly, like it ’
s hurting her, but when she sees me looking, she straightens up and smiles.
I touch her neck.
“
What ’
s this?
”
“
Oh—it ’
s just a mosquito bite. You know how they love me.
”
I squint. It could be. But I don ’
t think it is.
“
Jen—you okay?
”
I ask.
“
Of course. How are you ? You ’
re the one who had the asthma attack.
”
I hope she
’
s telling the truth. But that ’
s not what my gut is telling me.
She turns and walks off toward the kitchen and I follow.
“
You want something to drink?
”
she asks with her back to me.
“
Just water.
”
She gets a glass out of the cupboard.
“
How ’
s your stomach?
”
I ask.
“
You feeling any better?
”
“
It was nothing, ”
Jenna says quickly. She turns on the tap, fills the glass, and hands it to me.
“
You sound better. You ’
re not wheezing anymore.
”
“
I told you I was fine.
”
Jenna nods.
“
Yeah, like that time you kept telling the babysitter not to call Mom—and then we had to rush you to the hospital? Or the time you tried to muffle your coughing by putting a towel under the door? And you wonder why Mom and I double check.
”
“
I hate going to the hospital! It hurts when they put that horrible breathing tube in.
”
“
I know, ”
Jenna says, her eyes going soft.
“
I ’
m sorry.
”
She sets her own water glass down on the counter next to the nebulizer she keeps for me.
“
I told you I didn ’
t need that!
”
I say.
Jenna looks at me.
“
We just had this conversation. But yeah, you seem all right now.
”
I roll my eyes.
“
Thanks. You ’
re almost as bad as Mom.
”
But deep down, I ’
m glad she had it ready, just in case.
Jenna checks her watch.
“
You have somewhere you need to be?
”
I ask.
“
No, I just like to have things ready for Mason when he comes home. But I still have a few hours yet.
”
I don
’
t understand her catering to Mason like this, like she doesn ’
t have a life of her own. It ’
s not something Mom ever did with Dad.
“
Don ’
t you think he can make his own dinner for once?
”
I say.
Jenna presses her lips tightly together.
“
He works hard all day.
”
“
So do you.
”
“
Oh, my job ’
s just part-time.
”
Jenna waves her hand.
“
It ’
s nothing. So why are you really here?
”
“
I need to hide out from Mom before she smothers me.
”
“
Yeah, that must be so hard, ”
Jenna says sarcastically.
I set down my glass on the scuffed counter.
“
You try being under a microscope twenty-four hours a day, having her watch your breathing, your color, and monitoring everything you do. I can ’
t even cough without her running for my inhaler or my air-flow meter.
”
“
She loves you, ”
Jenna says, but it sounds like she means the opposite.
“
She loves you, too, ”
I say.
“
She cried for weeks after you left. She misses you; she says she never sees you any more, not without Mason being there, too.
”
Jenna holds up her hands.
“
She had plenty of time to see me when I lived at home, but she was always too busy taking care of you. Besides, Mason and I are a couple now. That ’
s what couples do—spend time together.
”
“
You can spend time with your family, too.
”
“
Mason is my family.
”
“
So are we. Are you sure things are okay with you two?
”
“
Yes! I ’
m a lot happier than I was at home. Mason pays attention to me. He really loves me.
”
“
Mom and Dad paid attention to you, ”
I say, frowning.
Jenna laughs—a short, hard bark.
“
No. They gave you all the attention. And you were the one who always needed it, not me. I was healthy, so I didn ’
t matter.
”
“
Of course you did!
”
“
No.
”
Jenna pushes away from the counter.
“
Not the way you did. You could ’
ve died if they didn ’
t monitor you right. I knew Mom was thinking about you every minute of every day, worrying about you. Even when she talked to me, she was distracted.
”
“
That ’
s not true, ”
I whisper. But her words hit me hard. No wonder Jenna hates me sometimes.
“
I ’
m sorry. But at least you always had Dad. The two of you did everything together. I hated being sick and getting left out of everything.
”
“
I know, ”
Jenna says.
“
But it affected us all. I didn ’
t get to be a normal teen, either. I couldn ’
t have hair spray, or perfume, or even nail polish, for God ’
s sake! And I couldn ’
t even smoke! Mom was always too hyper about even a whiff of cigarettes. I couldn ’
t do anything that would set off your asthma. It felt like I was living in jail.
”
I hug my stomach.
“
It was no fun for me, either.
”
“
Yeah, well, at least you got Mom ’
s attention.
”
I look away. I don ’
t want to get into this with Jenna. It ’
s how all our conversations end up now—talking about how my asthma affected the family. The guilt feels like darkness eating away at me.
I shake myself. This isn ’
t why I came. What I need to do is talk about Jenna, find out what ’
s really going on, and not let her divert me the way she usually does. I look up at her.
Silent tears are rolling down Jenna ’
s cheeks. She looks so much younger when she cries. So vulnerable.
I rush over and hug her.
“
I ’
m sorry. I love you.
”
Jenna wraps her arms around me.
“
I love you, too. And I know it ’
s hard to always be sick. I used to watch you watching me sometimes when I was out playing. You always looked so sad and alone.
”
I lean back a little to look at her. Her mouth is as soft as her eyes, now. If I ’
m going to get the truth from her, she ’
d be more likely to tell me when she ’
s like this.
“
I know you don ’
t believe my visions. But I ‘
saw ’
Mason punch and kick you. Jenna, if he ’
s ever—”
Jenna pulls away.
“
He hasn ’
t.
”
She straightens up, her mouth tight again.
“
But if he ever does, you know you can come home any time you need to. We all miss you. And we want you to be safe—”
“
I am safe. And happy, ”
Jenna says, holding her head high, looking down her nose at me.
“
Just leave it alone, Kate, okay?
”
The apartment door slams.
“
Hey, babe!
”
Mason calls.
“
Where are you?
”
“
In the kitchen, ”
Jenna calls.
“
You ’
re home early!
”
Mason strides in, smelling like cigarettes, a bouquet of flowers in his huge, grimy hand. I breathe lightly; I don ’
t want to have another attack.
“
I got a buddy to cover me. I couldn ’
t stop thinking of you, sweet thing.
”
He grabs Jenna, lifting her off the ground as she squeals, and kisses her—long and deep .
I look away.
Jenna giggles and swats his arm.
“
Be good. My sister ’
s here.
”
“
I ’
m always good, ”
Mason says. He hands her the flowers, the cellophane crinkling, and turns to me.
“
Hey, Kate. You have another attack?
”
“
Uh—yeah.
”
How did he know that?
Mason lifts his stained baseball cap off—part of his uniform at the gas station—and tosses it onto the counter.
“
Don ’
t worry about it. You ’
ll grow out of it.
”
Jenna
’
s arranging the flowers in a vase.
“
They ’
re beautiful, honey, ”
she says and looks triumphantly at me.
“
Just like you, babe, ”
he says. He strides forward and puts a finger under her chin, lifting her face up.
“
Have you been crying?
”
“
No, it ’
s nothing, ”
Jenna says quickly.
Mason
’
s eyes narrow and he turns to me.
“
I think it ’
s time you went home, Kate.
”
“
Okay, ”
I say quickly.
“
I ’
ll show myself out.
”
Mason
’
s been protective of Jenna ever since they started dating. It ’
s hard to believe he ever could have done what I saw .
But I know one way to be sure. I cut through the living room and walk over to the photo of Jenna, Mom, Dad, and me, all crowded together on the porch swing, laughing in the evening light. It looks perfect.