Mamaw reached out to pat her hand. “It’s always hard to see your child in distress.”
“I know, Mamaw. But it’s so much more intense with a child with autism.”
“I’m sure that’s true. Nonetheless, Nate has to learn to face the consequences of his actions. You will not be able to protect him from all of life’s difficult moments, you know. No parent can. All we can do is to let him go through them and learn from them. To give him the tools he needs.
“Dora, I don’t think you should leave. Really I don’t. For Nate’s sake. He’s developed a good routine here. And you can’t go back to your house. Didn’t you say that the workmen are there, fixing it up for sale? How will you manage with the fumes of paint and varnish? Surely that can’t be good for you or your son. Just think of the upsets! Granted, we’ve had a bump in our routine, but now we all have to pull together and start anew.”
“I suppose,” Dora replied, lackluster. She hadn’t thought this through, and as usual, Mamaw had.
“Will he see Carson?” Mamaw asked.
Dora shook her head. “No. He doesn’t want to see her.”
Mamaw tsked and shook her head. “That’s too bad. They’d been doing so well together. Making such progress. What a muddle this has all become.” She looked at Dora. “Well, dear, you go on and take a peek in her room and see if she’s sleeping. I know she’d feel bad not to see you.”
Dora hesitated. She didn’t really want to see her sister. “I wouldn’t want to wake her.”
Mamaw shrugged. “You should. Her fever’s gone. It’s what’s ailing her inside that I’m more worried about. She just sleeps and sleeps. When she’s awake she just stares at the wall. She won’t even open the blinds.”
“I feel so bad that I stirred up bad memories,” Dora said. “It was thoughtless of me. I was caught in the emotion of the moment. Sometimes I speak first and think later.”
“Yes . . .” Mamaw pinched her lips.
“I’m going to try and change that.”
“That’s good, dear,” Mamaw said, then sighed. “I suppose it’s just as well the truth surfaced at last. Though that particular hurt runs very deep. Carson just needs to come to terms with what happened in her own time. And she will.” She patted Dora’s hand, more briskly this time. “Now go on and see your sister. I think she needs you now more than ever.”
Dora knocked on the bedroom door. “Carson? Are you awake?”
“Come in,” Carson called back without enthusiasm.
She thought Carson’s voice sounded weak and on opening the door, Dora saw her lying on her back on the bed in the dim room. Her eyes were closed, the blinds were drawn—the atmosphere was as gloomy as a hospital room.
“Hi, honey,” Dora said, stepping in. “How’re you doing?”
“Okay.” Carson’s voice was flat, lifeless.
Dora came to stand by the bed and stared down at her sister. “Honey, you look like I feel.”
Carson opened her eyes and smirked. “Good one.”
Dora sat on the side of the bed, took Carson’s hand and squeezed it. “I hate to see you like this. Don’t be sad, sweetie. It’ll be all right.”
“I know . . .” Carson replied weakly, without conviction.
Dora felt the weight of remorse pressing down on her heart. She hadn’t come here to make a scene, but seeing her sister like this was more than she could bear.
“I’m so sorry,” Dora cried, bursting into tears. “I’m so sorry I said those horrible things to you. Oh, Carson, I never thought you might . . .” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Nothing’s worth taking your life, Carson. You have your whole life in front of you.”
Carson lifted her head and looked at her like she’d gone crazy. “Wait, wait just a minute. Do you think . . . do you honestly think I was trying to kill myself out there?”
Dora wiped her eyes and stared back at her. “Weren’t you?”
“No!” Carson exclaimed, pulling her hand from Dora’s grip. “Good God, no. Why would you think that?”
“I—I don’t know,” Dora stammered. “I guess because, well, you were so sad about that dolphin and I told you about your mother. I just . . .”
“You thought if my mother committed suicide, then I would, too?”
“No, not when you say it like that.” She’d done it again. Put her foot in her mouth. “I don’t know what I thought.”
“Jeez, Dora . . .” Carson looked away.
“I just saw you disappear into the water and my instinct kicked in.”
Carson erupted in a short laugh that surprised Dora. When she turned to face Dora again, she didn’t appear angry or upset. In fact, she looked vaguely amused. “Oh, Dora,” Carson said. “I guess I should just thank the Lord for your instinct.”
Dora heaved a sigh.
Carson’s eyes grew haunted. “I was in trouble out there. I knew better than to go in alone but I was fool drunk and did it anyway. I got caught in the current. It’s a miracle I didn’t drown. But no, Dora. I was not trying to kill myself.” She ran her hand through her hair. “And let me make this clear. My mother did not commit suicide, okay? She was drunk and smoking and passed out. Okay?”
Dora’s eyes were wide with attention. She nodded her head.
“Shit,” Carson said morosely. “But I guess you were right about me after all. I fell off the wagon. I am a drunk. Just like my mother.”
Dora felt the shame of her callous words burn again. “Don’t pay any mind to what I said. I didn’t know your mother. She was my nanny but I was so young, I don’t remember a thing except that she was pretty. So don’t listen to what I said. I was being mean and hateful because I was so angry at you for hurting Nate. I wanted to hurt you back. That’s no excuse, I know.” She looked away. “And who am I to talk about mothers, right? I know you think I’m a terrible mother. Overprotective, smothering.”
“I never said you were a terrible mother,” Carson said. “You’re an excellent mother. The best. Just a bit . . . overprotective.”
Dora released a short, desperate laugh. “Cal tells me the same thing. He said that’s why he left me. Or one of the reasons, anyway. He said I gave so much to Nate I left nothing for him. And that even Nate didn’t like him. At first I denied it. But lately, I’ve had some time to think about it and I realized he was right. Not that he’s been a prince.” Dora’s lips trembled and she reached into her pocket to pull out a tissue.