I looked at my hands, trying to find the right words. “I don’t know how to make sense of why. I can try to explain…”
“I’m listening,” she prompted.
My stomach flipped as it all rushed me, all the reasons my life had spiraled out of control these last few months. It all tumbled out of my mouth, just like it had done with Jake. “I felt like I was being punished. Your accident, I felt like it was punishment for the way I treated you, for putting Jake before you. The guilt was just…” I sucked it up and for the next twenty minutes, I told her everything I’d confessed to Jake. My terror that Andie would die. My guilt, my bargain with God, the resentment, and then the paralysis when she woke up.
Andie was quiet for a while, scrutinizing me in that inner psychiatrist way of hers. She was so quiet, I was afraid I’d mucked up the explanation.
But then she said, “I stopped being mad at you pretty quickly during my recovery. I went back to worrying like I had been for the months we didn’t talk. Especially after Rick and Mom and Dad told me you were by my side more than anyone when I was in the coma. It hurt that you didn’t come around for my recovery or after, but I forgive you for that, Charley. I forgave you months ago.”
Once the little niggle of resentment I’d been feeling over Andie’s confession was swamped by the relief that she’d forgiven me, I asked calmly, “If you forgave me, why didn’t you come to see me?”
Andie gave me her I’m smarter than you look that always drove me crazy. “Because of who you are. Everything you just told me, with the exception of your pact with God, I already guessed. Mom and Dad told me about law school and I knew that this whole thing had to be impacted by that. I know you better than anyone, maybe even better than you know yourself. And I knew that if I made the first move, you’d hold on to your guilt until your fingers bled. You needed to be the one to push past it, to be brave like always, and come to me first. It was the only way you’d feel okay about yourself.”
I shook my head. “You say you forgive me, but we both know I still should’ve been here.”
“How could you have been? You were in another country.”
“I wasn’t even here emotionally, though,” I insisted, a part of me needing her to be mad at me to substantiate my own self-reproach.
“Charley, why do you always need to save people? Who you are is going to crush you unless you learn to ease up on yourself. You can’t control fate. You can’t save everyone.”
“But I shouldn’t have put Jake before you. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. Surely you agree I’m to blame for that?”
“No, I don’t.” Andie shook her head stubbornly. “About two weeks after that telephone conversation, Rick and I got into a big argument about it. I’d been snapping at him for every little thing because I was pissed at you. Finally he’d had enough and told me that I was partly to blame for my argument with you.” She laughed softly. “And you know that pissed me off even more because I knew he was right.” Andie leaned forward, her expression sincere. “Charley, I should never have put you in that position. I was living in the past. I was scared Jake was going to hurt you like he did before. When he left last time, I came back to this kid who wasn’t my sister and it scared me shitless. And not just for you but selfishly for me, too. I’ve always needed you to be strong and brave, and when Jake left you, I suddenly realized you were mortal, just like the rest of us.”
Stunned, my voice was husky with emotion. “I never knew you felt that way.”
“Because it sounds silly. I’m a grown-up. We’re supposed to stop hero-worshipping and putting people up on pedestals after the age of ten. But you bounced back from Jake, and yeah, you were different, but you were strong still and you were my sister again. I just didn’t want to lose that. So I pushed my opinion on you and I let Dad’s overprotectiveness about the whole thing fuel my opinion and somewhere along the line, I forgot to trust you. Our argument was my fault. You shouldn’t have handled it the way you did but I shouldn’t have tried to make you choose between the people you love. It put you in an impossible position, Charley. I told Dad that too.” She smiled. “I think he may even have listened. So if Jake is the guy for you, I promise I’ll support you on it. I promise I’ll trust you.”
I blinked rapidly against the tears. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Of course it matters. You just told me how you treated the guy these last few months and still he was there for you—he helped get you here. For that alone, I’m willing to give this kid another shot.”
“Didn’t you hear me earlier? I promised God I wouldn’t be with Jake if He saved you.”
Andie reached for my hand and I squeezed hers in return, so grateful for her forgiveness. “This irrational fear of yours that if you break your pact with God something bad will happen to me, it’s not uncommon. I read about these kinds of fears in my research. Men who lose their fathers at a young age often have a crippling belief that they themselves won’t live past the age their fathers were when they died. People who offer to sacrifice something to God if He’ll save a loved one is a common occurrence. When the loved one lives, the person often believes that God held up His side of the bargain. They then sacrifice what they promised for fear of reprisal. These kinds of beliefs and fears seem beyond irrational to other people, but they can take such a strong foothold that people make choices around it that they shouldn’t.” Her grip on me tightened. “You stopped going to church when you were old enough to decide whether you had faith in God or faith in the people around you. You told me that for now, you’d stick with people because they had proven themselves to you and so far God hadn’t. Listen to me when I tell you that I woke up from that coma because I wasn’t finished here.” Her eyes shone bright with tears. “I need you to have faith in that, and not in some deal you made with a deity I’m not even sure you really believe in.”
I brushed at the tears falling beyond my control. “I don’t know if it’s that easy. These last few months without you have been the hardest of my life, and now I’m just terrified of losing you.”
“Getting through that fear… it’s not going to happen overnight, Supergirl. This is the first time we’ve talked in months. It’s going to take time. But we’re going to make time.” She moved and wrapped her arms around me. I hugged my sister tight. “You’ll find yourself.”
“What if I can’t get back to who I was?” I whispered.
“You won’t because it’s not about going back. It was never about going back. It was about doing something, anything, but standing still. You did that. You came to me even though you were petrified of the outcome. So now… it’s about moving forward and growing up.” She kissed my forehead. “It sucks at first, but it gets better.”
Chapter Nineteen
“So I talked with my Mom and Dad about careers.”
Dr. Bremner gave me a nod of encouragement. “And?”
“It went well, actually. We compromised. I study law next fall. When I graduate, we’ll talk about the police academy again and whether they’re comfortable with the idea.”
After finally getting up the nerve to face my sister, I went home to Lanton with Andie for the weekend. I swear to God the distance between my dad and me melted as soon as I walked in the door with my sister at my side. He hugged us tight, relief and pride back in his eyes. Mom was much the same. As a family we sat down and talked everything through with honesty and as much calm as we could muster.
It wasn’t all tied up neatly in a bow. Andie had forgiven me but she was still mad it had taken me so long to come check on her. And she had every right to be angry. I was still a little pissed at my dad for the way he’d treated me and after I explained everything I’d been going through, he and Mom had guilty looks on their faces. Especially when Andie told them it was Jake who’d helped me work it out. I’d tried to tell my dad at his auto shop that day, and although it made him ease up on me, he hadn’t gone out of his way to help me work it out. He expected me to do it alone because that’s who he thought I was. That’s who I thought I was too.
But over the last few months, Andie and Dr. Bremner, her colleague, had shown me that it didn’t make me weak to ask for help from friends and family. It didn’t make me any less of a person.
Andie had talked me into seeing a psychiatrist because she thought it would help me organize my thoughts and realize what it was I wanted out of life. Dr. Bremner and I were taking it step by step and had spent time talking about my career. She didn’t just take my word at face value—she wanted me to dig deep so I’d know for sure if giving up the academy was something I could live with in the long run. I was willing to do what it took to give my family peace of mind, but I also wanted a career that would make me feel less powerless. Because Andie was right in the end. I had a crazy savior complex and it needed an outlet.
I passed the LSATs with flying colors and was accepted into law school at the University of Chicago. A few weeks ago Andie invited me to stay with her and Rick for the weekend and they had Rick’s friend over for dinner. He was a public defender. He didn’t make the kind of money I’m sure my parents would want me to make after paying for such an expensive education, but this guy was so passionate about his job, that aspect of it didn’t bother me. He said it came with good and bad. It was hard to defend people who were guilty of heinous crimes no matter if you were a public defender or working for a private law firm, but it was balanced by the fact that he got to help people in impossible situations and maybe give them a second chance.
It was another viewpoint I hadn’t considered.
And that’s when I really started to think. The smart plan for me was to get a law degree, do the internships, and then decide what I wanted to do with my life. It was three years away, and anything could happen in three years. However, I was also not quite ready to give up on the idea of the academy.
So Andie had accompanied me for moral support last weekend while I discussed the possibility with my parents. They still felt uneasy about it but agreed that they wouldn’t know how they’d feel about it in three years’ time, either, and we could talk about it then.
“How do you feel about that?” Dr. Bremner said. “Does the uncertainty make you uneasy?”
“Not anymore. I’m learning patience.”
She smiled. “Good.” Her eyes flicked to the clock. “That’s time.”
I stood up. “I’ll see you in a few weeks?”
“In a few weeks,” she agreed. “Perhaps we can finally talk about Jake.”
My breath whooshed out of me at the thought. “Okay,” I said quietly.
I felt a little off balance as I wandered down the hall to my sister’s office. The light outside her door wasn’t on, which meant she didn’t have a patient.
She sat behind her desk in the corner of the room, her back to the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the Streeterville area of Chicago. Her office was cozy and comfortable compared to Dr. Bremner’s clinical one. Andie had a fat, comfy fabric sofa for her clients while Bremner had a black leather chaise that squeaked with the slightest movement.
My eyes strayed to the framed quote behind Andie’s desk.
It sucks at first. But it gets better.
I thought the words she’d said to me all those weeks ago were so fitting for her job that I’d had them printed on thick white paper in embossed dark gold and framed for her office. I wasn’t sure if she’d actually hang it, but it went up right away. She said it was the first thing her clients saw upon entering, and most thought it funny.
“That time already?” Andie said, looking up from her laptop.
“Yup. You ready?”
“Give me two minutes.”
I visited Chicago every three weeks to talk to Bremner and afterwards, Andie drove us to Lanton to spend the weekend with our parents. It wasn’t a permanent thing but I think we both felt we needed to do it to return our family to some kind of normality.
We arrived in Lanton a few hours later and walked into our parents’ house, greeted by the magical aroma of brisket and steamed veggies.
Sitting at dinner, I noted that the grim quality in my father’s eyes was gone now. There was still something weighty in his expression and I don’t think that would ever go away. He’d come close to losing a kid and I think he and Mom would carry that with them always. But they were both doing so much better, and Mom no longer visited the cemetery to find understanding from her dead mother. I saw that as a plus.
“I’m sorry Claudia had to cancel this weekend,” Mom said after passing around the broccoli.
I almost sniggered at the thought of my love-struck friend. “Well, Beck’s band is playing a popular bar in Evanston and she likes to be at his gigs to keep the groupies away. They’re starting to really make a name for themselves in Chicago.”
Dad frowned. “If they hit it big, she’ll have to learn to deal with that. She better think on it carefully—I don’t want her to get hurt.”
I felt warmth in my chest over my dad’s concern for my best friend. Her parents were never going to provide that for her, but I was glad she had a good substitute. “She has. It makes her uncomfortable, but she’s willing to deal with it for Beck.” I snorted. “He told her she had nothing to worry about. He convinced her with his usual hard-to-say-no-to charm.”