Lorna is stunned by the question. “Because I can’t accept it. Could anyone?”
“Yeah, lots of people. Because the thing is, it’s not up to you. You don’t get to decide my life—Ido. You may not like who I am or what I do, but I’m fine with it.”
“That’s a lie.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re fine with drug use and no job and stealing from Mom? You’re fine with how your life impacts everyone else?”
Kristen rolls her eyes. “Stop trying to change me. You harping on it all the time is not going to work. I can’t be like you, Lorna.I see the world very differently. So just stop.” She hauls up the duffel and goes out the door.
“Kristen!” Lorna adds panic to rage. “You can’t be serious—you can’t walk out that door. What about Mom?”
“Yeah, I can walk out. Because I’m sick to death of being made to feel like I’m subhuman. Come on, Beau.”
“Where to?” he asks, hauling himself up off the couch.
“I don’t know. You figure it out,” Kristen says.
Lorna is shocked. “Kristen—”
“Lolo, for crying out loud, go live your own life and stop worrying about mine.” Kristen leaves, slamming the door behind her.
Lorna hears her and Beau begin to argue on the way down the steps. She doesn’t hear her mother at first, but she feels her icy hand on her arm and turns around. Her mother looks pale and terribly thin. She eases herself into a recliner.
“Did she leave again?” her mother asks, her eyes closed as pain overtakes her.
“Yes. She’s been stealing your pills again, Mom.”
“Oh dear. You’ll have to call the doctor and explain.”
Lorna’s anger is pounding in her ears. Of course she will have to. She turns around and slams her fist against the countertop, wincing with the pain it causes her.
“Don’t start that,” her mother says.
“Don’t start what? Letting go my extreme frustration? Then how am I supposed to deal with it? Because it is filling me up, and the next best thing is taking a nosedive off the top of the garage.”
Her mother opens her eyes. “Don’t talk like that.”
“I have a worthless sister who does nothing but float between jail and you, living off her family, and she can’t even let you have your meds. It’s maddening, Mom.”
“Kristen can’t help—”
“Don’t you dare,” Lorna interrupts, her voice low and dark. “Don’t you dare defend her.”
“I’m not defending her. I’m just saying, Lolo. Addiction is a disease. She can’t help that she is in the grip of it, any more than you can help how angry you are or I can help that I have cancer. I know it’s a burden—”
“Now you are putting words in my mouth.”
“You don’t have to say it—it’s written all over your face. We are both burdens to you.” She sighs. “Can you get me some water?”
Lorna goes into Kristen’s room to get the medication and then to the kitchen to get water. She comes back, hands her mother a pill and the water, then sits on the couch near her. “It’s not fair,” she says. “I have a demanding job. Kristen lives here free without any responsibility. We should be able to rely on her.”
“Kristen does her best,” her mother says wearily.
The rage explodes. Tears begin to slide down her face. “You’re defending her again, Mom, and I can’t bear it. We’ve lived in the shadow of her addiction for so long that you’ve lost all perspective. Doesn’t it matter to you that she’s been ruling my life since I was a girl?”
“What does that mean?”
