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What on earth? was all Denny could think. She had never seen her older sister come unglued like this. Over the years, Denny had cried herself to sleep many times in the privacy of her apartment or when walking up and down the aisles of her bookstore at closing. After the death of her parents, she’d cried more times than she could calculate.
“Sis, everything all right?” Denny knew she was asking a stupid question because obviously everything was not all right. She bet James, who was handsome in his own way—tall and dark, had enjoyed several affairs. Did he want a divorce? Had Maureen caught him in the act? Not that Maureen would tell Denny the truth. She had divulged only half-truths since they were kids. “Sis?” Denny reached over and touched Maureen’s soft shoulder, startling her. She flinched and then sat up straight.
Maureen reached into a pocket for a Kleenex to dab her nose. “Nothing, I’m perfectly peachy.”
“Whatever.” Denny didn’t buy Maureen’s explanation for a minute. But no use asking her about it now. Later, when the two of them were alone together, Denny would console her. Maybe Maureen was finally grieving for their parents, a heartache they could share that might bring them closer. Nah, it would never work. Maureen would clamp her lips together like a clothespin and then give Denny the cold shoulder if she mentioned their demise.
Denny admonished herself to stop thinking about them. Wasn’t she going to pretend she was not grief stricken for the whole trip? Not an easy task when she was so exhausted. When trying to drift off into slumber, her mind spun like an endless loop. Another zombie night lay ahead. Denny went to a sleep disorder doctor, but he did little to help her as far as she could tell. She didn’t want to take antidepressants. She had given them a couple of weeks without result. She’d even spent the night in the sleep disorder lab which she called the “night of the living dead,” after an oldie scary movie. How could she sleep with people watching and monitoring her? When the ordeal was over, she couldn’t wait to be set free and told that she did not have sleep apnea, which the doctor pretty much suspected. Still, he recommended she try several sleep medications, which worked fine for a week or two. But after that they lost their effectiveness. She was now resigned to a life of insomnia. Or maybe this trip would turn her sleepless nights around.
“Maureen, whatever the problem is, it’s going to get better.” As Denny tried to comfort her, she couldn’t believe that in some ways she and Maureen had switched places. Denny hated it when her older sister spouted platitudes like this. How on earth would Denny know things were going to get better? As far as she could tell, they wouldn’t.