Kate Evangelista - Reaping Me Softly

Carrie sat in bed propped up by three pillows when most patients only got two—a testament to her people smooching skills. She devoured the latest Lisa Kleypas novel their mother had bought for her over the weekend. Her hair—once a vibrant red—hung loosely over too-thin shoulders. Now, it was a dull brown and so brittle that combing it resulted in clumps breaking off. No more hospital hair spa days after that. Carrie took her punches like a champ. She had dusted herself off and said, “Who needed hair spas when I can wear mine all loose and sexy?”

Carrie flipped a page, ignoring the dialysis machine that whirred at her bedside. Arianne sent up a silent prayer of thanks for her sister’s continued life and for whoever invented the machine that prolonged it while they waited with bated breath for a miracle. No matter how much she hated hospitals, Arianne had to admit, St. Joseph’s did a great job with Carrie.

Arianne’s gaze landed on an arrangement of sunflowers, their yellow petals brightening up the space. “Where’s mom?” she asked.

“Hey, sis.” Carrie handed out her signature cheeky grin. “Mom is…”

Out of nowhere, wildflowers seemed to blossom around Carrie. Arianne’s love for her sister drowned out anything the girl in bed had to say. A well-spring of tears bubbling up blurred the scene of her sister as the fairy princess among the flowers. Terminally ill thoughts disappeared from Arianne’s mind.

A book flew by, erasing the wonderful tableau. Arianne ducked reflexively. The romantic missile hit the wall, barely missing her head. “What was that for?”

“Stop standing there like a ninny.” The fairy princess pointed. “Are those tears I see?”

“Allergies.” Arianne sniffed. She crossed the room and positioned herself on the bedside chair their mother often slept on. “What was that you were saying about Mom?”

Carrie’s penchant for melodrama resurfaced when she portrayed the perfect lady during a swooning spell. “Oh, what am I to do? No one loves me anymore.”

“My lady,” Arianne played along, “whatever have I done to cause such ire? I only came to inquire about our mother dearest.”

And like a switched channel, Carrie went from classical movie to the news. “She went to work this morning and plans to come back tonight. It’s only you and Dad again, I’m afraid.”

“We manage. You know he took the morning off?”

“Without telling Mom?”

Arianne nodded like a seal being offered a bucket of fish. “Our little secret, he said. And he even griped about being entitled to a morning off once in a while.”

“I’d love to hear him say that to Mom.”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

They shared a giggle.

Moving on to another topic, Arianne said, “What happened last night? Dad said you guys were waiting on news about a possible donor?”

Carrie winced. The pillows seemed to engulf their precious patient, shielding her from harm. It made her look smaller and frailer. The fairy princess wilted.

To the rescue, Arianne jumped out of the chair and gripped the guardrails, ready to banish the source of Carrie’s pain. “Is something wrong? Should I call for Mila? Where does it hurt?”

“Oh, you know,” her highness answered breathlessly, “dialysis day isn’t exactly a walk in the park. Sit, sit, I’m fine.”

“I can call for Mi—”

“Sit down, Ari!”

The sisters had a staring contest until Arianne fell into the chair again. The image of Carrie looking more tired than ever tattooed itself behind her eyelids.

“That pile-up on I-75. There were possible donors from the casualties, but none of them were a match.”

“I talked to Niko Clark today,” Arianne blurted out, unable to take the hint of desolation hiding in the corner of Carrie’s neutral expression.

“Way to bury the lead, sis!” By the power of the sun’s rays, the fairy princess had been revived. “How did that miracle happen? And please don’t tell me you babbled.”

The embarrassment that moved into Arianne’s gut when she’d hit puberty must have been clear because Carrie clucked her tongue several times.

“You babbled. Oh, Ari, I can’t leave you alone for a second. He must have thought you were a total crazy person.”

“Thanks for the support, sis.” Where’s a good foam bat when you need one?

“So, spill, and don’t leave anything out.”

Forgetting the bat, Arianne launched into an animated narration of what had happened: Seeing Niko on the bus, Tammy and Carl getting called away, Mr. Todd asking Niko to be her stand-in lab partner, the acid on the hand accident, which had Carrie in stitches.

“It’s not that funny, you know.” Arianne let the chair give the comfort she needed.

“You’re such a dork,” Carrie said between giggles. “What did you do next?”

“I didn’t do anything. He took me to Nurse Betty’s office. He stayed until I had an ice pack on my hand.” She ran her fingers over her bandaged hand.

“I would have stayed.”

“Ben said the same thing.”

“Great minds.” Carrie’s eyebrows wiggled.

“Oh, but he’s so yummy, sis. I swear, I’d bring home a pint of that any day.”

“Speaking of all things yummy, how’s my fake boyfriend doing?”

“That reminds me…” Arianne disentangled herself from the suddenly touchy-feely chair and rescued her discarded backpack at the other end of the room from the attack of the paperback.

“He wanted me to give you something,” she said, tossing the book aside before unzipping her bag and liberating the plush panda from its depths.

Carrie squealed, her hands stretched out. “He’s so cute! Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

“The panda or Ben?” Arianne handed her the stuffed animal, which her sister proceeded to crush to her chest until girl and animal became one.

“Both.” She gave the panda one more squeeze before subjecting it to a thorough examination. “I name thee Sir Harold.” Carrie’s smile almost made Arianne fall off the chair she’d forgiven and reunited with. “Tell him thanks.”

Regaining some semblance of control over her mental functions, Arianne recited Ben’s message. “He said he couldn’t make it today or the rest of the week. But the weekend he’s free.”

“Coach Simmons having him fill in again?” Carrie plopped Sir Harold on top of her head and balanced him there.

“I don’t know why he refuses to join the team. He’d certainly make it to the regular line up without any trouble.”

“Ben loves baseball, but he can’t abide being on a team for long. He’s more a lone wolf that way.”

“Eww! Will you remove that dreamy, mushy sigh from your voice?” Arianne shuddered. “I keep telling him he should learn to play nice. He could even get a college scholarship the way he plays. Maybe even go pro!”

“Don’t be hard on Fake Boyfriend. He doesn’t need a scholarship. His dad earns enough to send ten kids to any university of their choice. And FB’s an only child.”

“FB?”

“Fake Boyfriend. I’ve decided to abbreviate.”

Arianne chuckled. “I’ll let him know he’s been abbreviated.”

“You do that.” Carrie showed all her teeth. “What’s with the unibrow?”

“Niko.” Arianne took a stab at unraveling the Gordian knot of her brow. “He looked so tired. Like really tired. I’ve never seen him that way before.”

“Worried? Wait.” She lifted an all too fragile hand. “Of course you are. You’d worry if he’d gotten a split end.”

“Carrie!”

“As if I’m not right.”

“Come on, be serious. He really looked like he’s coming down with something.”

“And it’s not even flu season.”