by Radclyffe
“No, it isn’t. It would be a lot harder for me if I had to worry all night whether you had gotten home safely.”
As if her statement had startled them both, they were silent as Drew maneuvered through the deserted streets of West Mt. Airy toward the expressway that ran from the city proper to the surrounding suburbs.
Within minutes, Sean was asleep.
*
“Sean.” Drew gently shook the sleeping woman’s shoulder. “You’re home.”
Slowly, Sean opened heavy lids and struggled to focus. She fixed on Drew’s face and smiled, inexplicably happy for an instant before the memories of the last week resurfaced. The sadness thundered back with merciless force, and she shuddered at the sudden onslaught.
“It’s okay,” Drew whispered.
Without thinking, Sean reached across the seats to touch Drew’s cheek lightly with her fingertips. “Thank you. You help...so much.”
Words having deserted her, Drew just nodded. When a moment later Sean withdrew her hand, the places within Drew’s soul left suddenly barren screamed. Finally, she managed, “You don’t need to thank me.”
“Well, I do.”
As Sean pushed open her door, Drew jumped out and came quickly around the front of the car. “Let me get your gear.”
“No, I can get it.”
“Come on.” Drew already had the bag in her hand. “I’ll bring it in for you.”
Sean acquiesced, mostly because she didn’t want to stand on the steps to her dark, unaccustomedly lonely house and watch Drew walk away. “Come inside. I’ll call you a cab to take you to the train station.”
As they walked toward the house, Drew laughed. “Sean, it’s only a few blocks away.”
“I know that,” Sean replied archly, some small spark of her usual fire surfacing. “And it’s also after ten o’clock at night. I don’t want you walking around by yourself.”
Drew stopped dead one step below the broad wooden porch that led to Sean’s front door and looked up at her companion. “Sean, I’m a Marine Corps combat instructor. I think I can handle myself on a five-minute stroll in the dark.”
“I...worry,” Sean murmured as Drew stepped up beside her.
“I appreciate it.”
As often happened when they were close, the air grew still and quiet around them, and everything except the two of them receded from awareness. The only reality was the connection forged by their eyes as they held one another gently.
“I should go in,” Sean said with reluctance.
“Yes.” Drew nodded and swallowed around the sudden desire that had grabbed her like a hand fastening on her throat. She waited as Sean turned, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. When Sean left the door open, she followed. She just couldn’t bring herself to leave yet.
“Susan?” Sean called automatically.
There was no answer.
“Suse? Where are you?” Momentarily forgetting the woman behind her, Sean hurried through the house on what had become her nightly vigil. A quick check of all the rooms on the first floor failed to turn up her sister. In the kitchen, she slid back the glass doors that opened onto the terrace and looked out. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?” Drew was right behind her.
Sean was already moving toward the woman sprawled in the lounge chair, an overturned glass by her lax right arm. “Honey? Are you awake?”
Susan made no response.
Leaning down, Sean shook her twin’s shoulder a bit frantically. “Susan! God—she won’t wake up.”
“Let me check her,” Drew said calmly. She’d seen a lot of marines in this condition. In fact, she’d been there more than once herself. After moving quickly to the opposite side of the chair, she bent down and placed her fingers lightly against the pulse in Susan’s neck. Her respirations were shallow and slow—dangerously, but not critically so.
She tried to ignore the fact that the unconscious woman looked precisely like Sean. Seeing her so defenseless made the muscles in her stomach clench with dread. “It looks like she’s had way too much alcohol. She’s out, but I don’t think she’s in any real trouble.”
“She’s been doing this all week, but this is the first time she’s been like this. I wouldn’t have left her alone at all, but she threatened to go out if I didn’t.” Distractedly, Sean smoothed the hair back from her sister’s forehead. Almost to herself, she said, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Let’s get her inside.” Without waiting for Sean to reply, Drew put one arm behind Susan’s shoulders and the other under her knees and lifted her into her arms. Susan’s head lolled against Drew’s shoulder, and her arms hung limply by her side. “Where to?”
“Second floor. You can’t carry her that far.”
“Sure I can. Go ahead.” Drew didn’t see any point in reminding her distraught companion that she could carry the dead weight of a marine across the field of fire if necessary. “We have to get her warm. It’s chilly out here, and this much alcohol can lead to hypothermia pretty quickly.”
Sean didn’t have the energy to argue. All she could think was that Susan was slipping away, and she didn’t know how to help her. She knew in the rational part of her mind that no one could help Susan until she was ready to be helped. All the love and all the support in the world would not be enough if Susan didn’t want to beat this. Standing by and watching someone she loved with all her heart start the inevitable spiral toward destruction was quickly destroying her as well.
“Upstairs,” she said brokenly.
Within minutes, Sean was standing at the foot of Susan’s bed, watching Drew lay her gently down on top of the covers. When the blond ex-marine reached for the comforter tangled at the foot of the bed and carefully spread it out over her sister’s still form, Sean was nearly swamped by all the emotions surging through her.
“You’re so tender,” she murmured aloud without meaning to.
Drew flushed at the words. “No.”
Straightening, Drew then turned back to Sean, her face expressionless. “As long as she doesn’t drink anymore tonight, she should be all right.” She hesitated for an instant, then asked, “Are there any pills in the house?”
Sean jerked as if struck. “My God...not that I know of. But then, I didn’t think there was any alcohol, either. I checked this morning before I went to work.”
The two of them stepped out of the bedroom and into the hall, pulling Susan’s door nearly closed.
“It’s a little bit easier to get a bottle of booze than it is to get a handful of downers, but not much,” Drew pointed out in a low voice. “You should check the house.”
“I will.” Sean was numb. “I should’ve thought of that myself. I never should have left her alone.”
“You can’t be here all the time. Besides, you’re running on empty, Sean.”
Sean nodded as she sagged against the wall and leaned her head back for support. “It was all I could do to stay focused through my sessions today. Thank God, I don’t need to see anyone else until Monday.”
“You shouldn’t come to class until you’ve had some rest. Until this whole situation settles down.” Drew hated to say it because that meant she might not see Sean for a considerable length of time. And that prospect was almost as painful as seeing her the way she was now. But not quite. “You could get hurt. I’ll explain to Master Cho that you need some time off for personal reasons. It won’t be a problem.”
“I’ll miss...going to class.” She stared at Drew. I’ll miss you. I want you to stay. I want you to hold me. Please don’t go.
“It won’t be for very long,” Drew said, her voice suddenly thick. I’m going to go crazy not knowing what’s happening to you.
“I know you’re right. I need to be here for Susan, and I need to give my clients the attention they deserve.” Sighing, she straightened and started down the hall with Drew by her side. “I’ve got to at least try to get her to stop drinking, or I’m going to have to get her into rehab again. Jesus, that was a
nightmare the last time.”
“Maybe she’ll come around on her own,” Drew said as she stopped just inside the front door. “If she’s got six years of sobriety, hopefully she’ll realize that she can do it again. That is, when some of the pain starts to settle, and she can think again.”
Sean searched Drew’s face. “That could take a long time.”
“I know.”
“Thank you for tonight. I...needed you here.”
The words twisted through Drew like a knife. She wanted fervently to comfort Sean and feared that she would fail her. “You can call me...if there’s anything...”
Unable to stop herself, Sean placed her palm on Drew’s chest in the same spot she had rested it the night they danced. She held it there for a minute, soothed by the echo of Drew’s heartbeat against her skin. “You’ve done so much.”
“I wish there were more.”
“I’ll see you soon,” Sean said quietly, needing to believe it.
“Yes.”
Sean stood on the threshold, silent rooms behind her and the night closing in dark around her. Watching Drew’s figure disappear into the dim shadows cast by the streetlight left her feeling more alone than she had ever imagined she could be.
Chapter Eight
Sean was awakened by a faint groan and the sensation of movement beside her. Her eyes flew open and, momentarily disoriented, she struggled to discern her surroundings in the faint predawn light. She was still in the same clothes from the night before. Then everything came to her like an image flashed on a screen. Susan’s room. Drew placing her sister’s inert form so gently on the bed. Her own frantic search through the house for hidden caches of alcohol and pills. The bottles of vodka she had emptied down the sink in the kitchen as her insides churned with dread.
She had only meant to stay with Susan a few minutes, just to assure herself that her sister’s breathing was steady. Exhausted, she must have made the mistake of closing her eyes.
Turning on her side, she saw Susan sitting upright, swaying slightly on the side of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay,” Susan replied automatically, her words nothing more than a ragged rasp. “What are you doing here?”
“I fell asleep. Do you remember anything about coming to bed?”
Susan placed a hand on the bedside table and got unsteadily to her feet. She wouldn’t look in Sean’s direction. “No.”
“Suse—”
“Go to your own room, Sean. Please.” Her voice was a low tortured whisper as she began to make her way slowly toward her bathroom.
Sean followed her, listening to the sounds of cabinet doors opening and closing as Susan searched for the comfort she would not find. When Sean reached the open door, she saw Susan slumped against the counter, her face gray and her eyes bleak.
“Did you purge the house of all the alcohol?”
“Yes. After Drew put you to bed.”
“Fuck.” Susan ran shaking hands over her face and took a long tremulous breath. “Fuck.”
“Listen, you can’t keep this up.”
Susan regarded her with eyes hollowed by despair. “I’m sorry to put you through this. Jesus, I wish Drew hadn’t been here.”
Sean shook her head. “None of that matters. You’re what matters.”
“Yes, I noticed that. I remember Ellen saying something similar.” Susan turned away and lowered her head into the sink, simultaneously turning on the cold water faucet and drenching her hair and neck.
Sean winced just imagining how it would feel. When her sister straightened, Sean resisted the urge to get her a towel. Instead, she kept her expression neutral as Susan fumbled behind her and finally found one.
“Killing yourself is no solution.”
“I know,” Susan said with her face muffled in the terry cloth. “I’m not trying to. Really...I’m not.” She lowered the towel and stared at Sean, such naked torment in her face that Sean almost had to look away. “I’ll stop drinking, I promise. As soon as it stops hurting...so damn much.”
Sean broke. In an instant, she had gathered Susan into her arms, cradling her head beneath her chin, rocking her, smoothing the damp hair on the back of her sister’s neck. “Let me help you. We’ll go to a meeting together. A thousand meetings. I don’t care. Just say when.”
Susan nodded before finally pushing away. “How’s Ellen?”
“Susan, don’t.”
“Has she said anything to you?”
“We haven’t talked.”
“So you don’t know about...Gail. If it’s...serious.”
“You need to talk to Ellen about that.” She knew she sounded harsh. She couldn’t help it. She was scared to death. “The two of you need to talk about a lot of things. You need to be sober for that.”
“I can’t,” Susan whispered brokenly. “Not yet.”
“Then you need to talk to me.”
Again, Susan nodded, but Sean feared it would not be soon.
*
Sean worked; she slept when she could; she bled every time she watched Susan take a drink. She couldn’t be her sister’s jailor, and she wouldn’t be her conscience. She offered Susan her love, and the promise to be there when she was ready to begin the road back. Sometimes, alone at night, she cried. Sometimes, she prayed.
*
Sean had stayed late in the office, spending several hours finishing reports she had neglected for the past few weeks. It was after midnight when she walked up the meandering flagstone path to the main house from the office. As her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, she saw that Susan’s car was gone from its customary place next to her own in the carport. When she realized that Susan might have gone out to a bar, she panicked. Despite the three-week binge, at least until now, Susan hadn’t driven while drunk.
Sean flew through the back door, dropped her briefcase in the middle of the dining room, and took the stairs to Susan’s wing two at a time. As she had feared, the house was empty. She fought the wave of despair that crashed through her weary soul.
For weeks, she had watched her sister come apart, something so agonizing she awakened to the physical sensation of pain every day. Fearful of what she might find when she returned home, she stayed away from the dojang, and as a result, lost one of the centering forces in her own life. Worse, she no longer had even the few brief hours of daily connection with Drew that had become a critical part of her life without her even realizing it. Now that she could not see Drew, could not bask in the warmth of her penetrating gaze or receive the smile that seemed reserved only for her, Sean missed it terribly. She missed her—the solid, sure presence, the strong certainty of her every movement. And the passage of time did not diminish the memory of being in her arms.
Oh God. What am I going to do?
At the sound of the front door closing below, she turned from her dark reverie. “Susan?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Sean hurried down the stairs to discover Susan making her way slowly along the hallway, her gait tentative and unsteady as she veered into the library and finally slumped onto the couch. Sean sat beside her and reached for the hand that was visibly shaking, cradling the cool flesh in her own warm palms.
In a calmer voice, she asked, “Where have you been?”
“I went to a meeting.”
“Thank you,” Sean whispered, unable to hide her relief. Suddenly, her entire world seemed brighter. “How was it?”
“Pretty awful.” Susan, her face gaunt and haunted, stared into the empty fireplace across the room. In a voice hollow with pain, she intoned, “I just loved standing up and saying, ‘Hi, I’m Susan. I’m an alcoholic, and I’ve been sober three hours.’”
“Three hours or three minutes—you’re sober.” Sean drew Susan’s hand to her face and dropped a quick kiss on the back of it. “Oh, Susan, I am so proud of you.”
“Proud?” Susan turned to her, tears in her eyes. “Look at me.”
“I am. And I see you struggling and not giving up, even th
ough you’re in pain. I see you trying to regain yourself, even though it’s so hard. I see you being brave, when it’s so much easier to run away. I love you for being you.”
Susan rested her cheek against Sean’s shoulder, completely unaware of the tears that streaked her cheeks. “What am I going to do, Sean? I miss her so damn much. I don’t know if I can stand it sober.”
“Talk about it, Suse—talk about it.” Sean reached around Susan’s shoulder and pulled her even closer. “Let me carry some of the pain for you. I love you, Susan—let me help you.”
Susan cried, and Sean cried with her.
“What do you think I should do?” Susan asked at last, straightening and brushing the tears from her face. “How can I get her back?”
“Do you want her back?”
“God, yes—I can’t imagine my life without her,” Susan replied without a moment’s hesitation. “I miss everything about her—her laughter, her crazy humor, how safe she made me feel. I miss her at night when I go to sleep and the first thing in the morning when I open my eyes. Every part of me aches for her. Can you understand wanting someone that much?”
“Yes,” said Sean softly. “I think I can.”
“I don’t know where to start.”
“You’ll have to start with yourself, Susan,” Sean said gently. “First you need to take care of yourself. Then at some point, you’ll need to decide how much you’re willing to give—not give up—but give, for what you want. When you know, tell her.”
“And then?”
“If it’s what she needs, too, you’ll both have a place to build from.”
Susan looked down at her hands. “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?” she asked in a small voice.
“She does, Susan. I know in my heart that she does.”
*
Drew turned onto the landing on the second floor and stopped, blinking in the hazy yellow glow from the widely spaced ceiling lights. Slowly, she approached the figure leaning against the wall outside the locked door to the dojang.
