Title: A Thin Line
By: Julexer
DISCLAIMER: "ER", the characters and situations depicted within are the property of Warner Bros. Television, Amblin Entertainment, Constant C Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission but without the intent of infringement. The story presented here is written solely for entertainment purposes, and the author is not making a profit.
Please do not post or distribute without the disclaimer above, or without the permission of the author.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated. Write to julexer@hotmail.com
BIG, HUGE thanks go to Lori for her incredibly helpful and extensive feedback AND for titling this particular story.
SUMMARY: The Greene family returns to the Bay Area for a Christmastime visit with the Rosses, but they don't find everything as they had expected.
RATING: PG-13
Elizabeth looked over the sleepy head of her daughter, who was curled in the seat to her right, and out the window, watching the densely glittering lights of the city rise up to meet them as they descended. She reached for Mark's hand to her left in the final moments before they landed – flying into Oakland always unnerved her slightly. To their left the Pacific stretched endlessly and as they approached the runway nothing but lightless water was beneath them. They dipped lower and lower and just as it seemed they were in for a water landing, the runway suddenly appeared below.
Mark looked over at her barely audible sigh of relief and smiled. "We're here," he called to Ella, who opened her eyes and looked foggily out the window. She had always been blessed with the ability to fall sound asleep by the time they reached cruising altitude on any flight.
Mark reached to gather his coat and zip the carry-on bag stowed beneath his feet, itching to get off the plane after the long day of traveling. He was definitely looking forward to seeing Doug and Carol and their girls – he hadn't seen them since their summertime visit to Chicago two and a half years ago. When Doug had left County fifteen years ago, Mark had been genuinely worried about him as a friend – it brought him tremendous relief to know that things had turned out so well with his career and family after they'd parted ways.
"Ella, hurry up," directed Elizabeth, as Ella was still trying to get her eyes to stay open while the passengers behind them waited impatiently. Finally, the three of them made it off the plane and trundled up the jetway, the temperature of which made all of them realize with pleasure that December in the Bay Area was a completely different proposition than the blistering cold they had left behind in Chicago.
As they emerged from the tunnel into the airport, Elizabeth looked for Doug and Carol, who were supposed to be meeting them. This was always a special moment, laying eyes on such good friends again after being apart for so long. She caught just a flash of Doug's dark eyes to her left before Carol caught her up in a big hug. Excitement took over as Doug reached to carry her bag and Ella dashed over to the twins, her sleepiness all but forgotten.
Tess and Kate had just turned fourteen the month before, while Ella would not be thirteen until late spring, and Elizabeth watched the glowing, raven- haired Tess as she and Ella squealed their hellos. Childishness was beginning to slip away from her face this winter, and she looked very much like both of her parents, had strong, lovely features and exuded the same confidence and sass that had been embodied by both Doug and Carol at their best times for as long as Elizabeth had known them.
Suddenly, though, she realized what was wrong with the picture just past the departure and arrival monitors. The sparkle and health of Tess was sadly lacking in her sister. Kate looked positively ill. Her curls were limp, the skin of her face had an odd, bluishly translucent quality, and most noticeably, she clearly weighed a good fifteen or twenty pounds less than Tess, who was definitely on the slim side for fourteen herself.
Carol followed Elizabeth's gaze across the room and prepared herself for the shock that she knew would appear in the green eyes. It did, and Elizabeth turned back. "Carol, what…?"
"I should have warned you. I'll tell you later, okay?" Her voice was low. She felt Doug's unspoken exasperation behind her and tried to change the subject. "Let's go get your luggage, all right?"
There was a certain desperate edge to the way Carol looked at her that stopped Elizabeth's questions. She looked wonderingly back at the girls, at the two healthy ones and this strangely fragile creature next to them, and exchanged a look with Mark, who looked as puzzled as she felt, but held her tongue and followed the others to the baggage claim area.
It was past ten by the time they reached the house in the Berkeley hills and the girls trooped upstairs, promising to go to bed before it was too late. Their parents headed for the living room, looking out over the lights of the bay through the big front windows. Mark, on the loveseat, drew Elizabeth to his side, glad to be settled and through with the flights and airport schedules and looking forward to their ten days of vacation. "So, tell us about being in a pediatric ER full-time."
Doug, on the sofa with Carol's legs across his lap as she curled against the corner, smiled so big that Mark could see how much he loved the position he had held since late last spring. "It's great. I've never been able to focus on kids anywhere like this; the facility is unreal." Doug's efforts during the past several years at the general trauma center where Carol still worked had been recognized by Childrens' Hospital Oakland and he'd been named to the trauma staff as a director in the emergency department there. Childrens' was considered one of the best pediatric medical facilities on the west coast and it seemed Doug had finally found a place for his particular innovative, dedicated style, although it seemed to Mark that he must also have changed, calmed down and learned to follow at least a few rules. Doug shifted, his hand on Carol's knees. "How are things at County?"
"It's been feeling pretty tired," replied Mark. "We're gearing up for a big renovation this spring."
"What, in the ER?"
Elizabeth snorted. "Yeah, even though the entire hospital needs it. You should have seen Kerry and Robert squabbling over those funds – but she won, somehow."
Mark rolled his eyes, albeit good-naturedly – that particular dispute hadn't exactly belonged exclusively to Drs. Weaver and Romano. "How's work for you, Carol?"
Although working together in the emergency department in Berkeley since they'd moved to the Bay Area and Carol had returned to work had been a good experience, she was happy to remain there after Doug's move to Childrens', and she told Mark so. Doug interrupted, though, saying, "It does complicate the commute, though."
Elizabeth could clearly see two things about this exchange: Doug had genuinely meant the comment in jest, but Carol could not help stiffening in response. She wondered even more at this new tension, and yet could not help pressing the next button. "How are the girls?"
The look Doug and Carol shot each other at this question was involuntary and ended quickly, almost as if they were recoiling. Doug took the lead again, however. "They're good … you know, the end of junior high and all that."
Carol folded her arms and avoided Elizabeth's eyes. "They miss my mom a lot – that's been hard … especially for Kate." Doug's jaw tightened and the tension climbed another rung.
Even Mark was beginning to notice it, although he hadn't caught the earlier body language between the pair on the sofa. "We were so sorry to hear about your mom, Carol," he said. Helen had found herself missing Carol and her granddaughters after the move to Seattle, and had come to stay at least once every year, often arriving in time for Tess and Kate's birthday and staying through New Year's, lavishing the twins with gifts and kisses and good-natured scolding, and even cooking up a storm for Doug. Last spring, though, her kidneys had begun to fail after years of rocky health, and the Rosses had flown back to Chicago to be with her when she died in late summer.
Mark and Elizabeth could each see the strain on Carol's face at this turn in the conversation, and Mark quickly changed the subject. Elizabeth was glad to see Doug's visible concern for his wife, but she could also see how very carefully each of them was treading, that there were months of history here, layers that made her worry for both Doug and Carol, and for the girls.
Ella adored Tess and Kate's room. It was different each time they visited, always decorated with meticulous attention to detail, reflective of the vibrant, creative personalities of its two occupants. She always loved getting to sleep in it with them, on the futon spread out between their two beds. This winter the walls were pale yellow and covered with hundreds of snapshots, artfully arranged – in patterns, according to theme and color and which people were posing in them. Ella couldn't help examining a few as soon as she walked in, although she knew she could spend hours looking at them all.
"I'm so excited that you guys are finally here!" said Tess, stretching out on the ivy-patterned white comforter on her bed. "It really feels like Christmas now, you know?"
Kate agreed, digging a heavy wool sweater out of the laundry pile at the foot of her bed and putting it on. "It feels sort of funny, though, since you all usually come when it's summertime and warm. I hate being cold."
It occurred to Ella that she wasn't cold at all, that in fact she and Tess were both perfectly comfortable in T-shirts. Something was different about Kate; she looked tired and thin, the way Ella remembered feeling after she'd had mono last summer. In fact, she'd been so worn out after the mono that her parents had decided to postpone this trip until now, especially since the twins' grandmother had died. Maybe Kate had been sick recently too, with the flu or something.
Kate was animated and talkative tonight, though. "So, Ella, is there anything special you want to do while you're here? We've got a few ideas, but …"
"Like what?"
Tess jumped in. "Well, you've got to meet some of our friends, like Jacqui and Holly. And Austin –"
Kate interrupted, "Austin is your friend. Not mine."
Tess sighed, exasperated. Kate sneered back. "Anyway," Tess continued. "We can go to some movies and parties, and maybe hang out on the UC Berkeley campus for awhile, and maybe even take BART to San Francisco …"
"BART?"
"It's sort of like the El train."
Kate was rolling her eyes. "Could you be showing off any more? Like we aren't going to have to beg Mom and Dad to do half of this stuff? As if they would let us take Ella to a party."
Ella was secretly glad to hear this from Kate, having become slightly alarmed, after hearing Tess's list of activities, that perhaps the gap between seventh grade and eighth grade, or maybe Chicago and Berkeley, was larger than she had suspected. Tess, though, was rolling her eyes back. "Well, you don't have to be all negative about it from the beginning. God."
"Negative? More like realistic."
"Yeah, you call shooting down every idea I ever have being realistic? I don't see you obeying Mom and Dad's rules all that well!" They exchanged dagger-eyes from their respective beds.
Ella's eyes widened at this constant squabbling. Aside from being practically an only child, she was considerably more even-tempered than either Tess or Kate, and could not imagine arguing with anybody like this during an entire week, much less within five minutes. However, she realized that neither of them was angry or seriously irritated, and all was forgotten and forgiven in a matter of moments. It was readily apparent that with the twins, this was par for the course, a natural and necessary part of their close and passionate sisterhood.
"Whatever." Kate brushed her sister off. "Ella, how's your soccer team?" Everybody who knew Ella also knew about her limitless love for soccer, and especially for her beloved team.
She couldn't help grinning with pride. "Really good. We've been on the top of the league for a bunch of seasons in a row … and I got picked to be on varsity next fall without having to try out."
Tess and Kate were both visibly impressed. "Wow," said Kate. "We used to play soccer, remember?"
Tess laughed. "Yeah, but we were really bad. We were like, seven or something. We had those goofy purple uniforms … I bet we've got a picture up somewhere." She leapt up and squinted at the images along the far wall, next to the closet. "Yep!" she called triumphantly, detaching one and bringing it to Ella. A very young Tess and Kate grinned out at her, skinny brown arms around each other, tiny cleats and purple socks covered in muck.
Kate leaned back against the several pillows made of red, maroon, and blue velvet that were piled on her bed. "I bet we've still got a soccer ball somewhere," she said thoughtfully. "One day if it's not raining you should show us your stuff. We could all play and kick it around or something."
Ella smiled. "Okay, sure." She looked over at Tess just in time to catch the sharp glance she shot at her sister.
"I don't know, Kate …" Her face was so worried and pensive that Ella wondered immediately what she was concerned about. However, she kept quiet when Kate abruptly sat up and shot a glance of her own back at Tess, because her expression was clearly a warning.
The next morning when Ella woke up, she quickly closed her eyes again, the better to luxuriate in the warm, comfortable coziness of the futon, the quilts, and her flannel pajamas. The actual amount of time she had spent in this house wasn't all that much – just a week or so every couple of years. But she remembered every visit as such a good time that her instinctive sense of familiarity and security here was increased quite a lot. She wasn't intimidated by Tess and Kate the way she sometimes was with older girls in the eighth grade at home – maybe it was that she'd known them for so long, and they'd always been so welcoming and nice, and fun to have when they came to visit Chicago. And she'd always picked up on the warm friendship between her parents and Doug and Carol.
She finally opened her eyes and looked around the dusky room. Tess's bed was empty, the sheets mussed and the pillows dented. Kate, however, was still firmly asleep, curled into a small ball under her comforter. Ella was suddenly struck by how very different Kate looked from how she had expected her to. When she was awake, her smiles and talk distracted from the paleness of her skin, the funny purple circles under her eyes, and the way the bones under her neck stuck out, but when she was asleep Ella couldn't help staring.
Just then she heard a faint snatch of the conversation downstairs in the kitchen, which made her realize how hungry she was. Heading down the stairs, she could hear Tess, clearly wheedling, attempting to reason with both of her parents. "But Dad, we'll be careful. I swear. We've just got some stuff to, you know, buy for Christmas. And we can show Ella around …"
"Show me around where?" asked Ella, sliding in next to Tess at the kitchen table. Carol smiled and whisked the sourdough toast that had just popped up from the toaster to her plate, and Tess pushed the jars of peanut butter and blackberry jam her way.
"Around Berkeley, downtown. If we go to Telegraph Avenue, there are lots of really fun bookstores and street vendors and stuff because it's really close to the university campus. And really good pizza, too."
Doug was in charge of poaching the eggs at the stove. "Better watch out, Ella, or Tess'll try to turn you into another hippie kid."
Ella grinned back, hoping her parents would say yes.
Kate finally stumbled downstairs, wool socks upon her feet and her curls tangled around her head. She deliberately went to the cupboard and withdrew a glass, then filled it with ice water and sat down next to her sister to drink it. Ella watched as Carol, just as deliberately, placed a slice of toast in the center of her plate, saying nothing. Kate ignored it completely until Tess appeared to kick her under the table, at which point she tore off a tiny sliver and put it into her mouth. At this, Carol and Tess both visibly relaxed, but Ella could clearly see that Kate was merely shredding the rest of the bread up, piling it on her plate so it looked like less and less, but definitely not eating it.
This was weird.
Ella was not normally one to speak without consideration. She was usually much more likely to observe for a little while, to watch and see what information she could get on her own before asking, but she was totally confused here. She was nearly bursting to ask what was going on, to point to the demolished bread on Kate's plate and demand an explanation from Carol or Tess, but something was so clearly wrong that she stopped herself.
The moment passed, although the rest of the toast never left Kate's dish, and soon Mark and Elizabeth came downstairs as well. Ella immediately started working on them about the wonder and sheer adventure that was Telegraph Avenue, and with some additional talking-up from Tess and a few well-placed words of reassurance from Carol, they eventually agreed. "Just don't go home with any bums, even if they look clean, all right?" warned Mark as he salt-and-peppered his egg.
Carol and Elizabeth took advantage of the girls' shopping trip by dropping them off at the corner of Bancroft and Telegraph and then heading back up College to have lunch and coffee at a little place just past the Rockridge BART station. Carol slid into one of the small wooden booths with her sandwich, smiling over at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled back, but internally, she was exasperated. Something was clearly wrong with Carol, with her family. It seemed much more deep-rooted than a small argument or anything like that – she'd never seen Carol so reticent and gloomy. Even more disturbingly, she'd never been so reluctant to talk about what the problem was.
They ate quietly for a few minutes, both watching a young man out the window who was walking up the wet street through the gray dampness with a toddler in a backpack and a golden retriever on a leash. Carol looked up. "Hey, didn't you guys get a dog?"
Elizabeth smiled again, picturing the floppy ears and goofy ways of Rosie, their eight-month-old retriever-shepherd mix. "Yeah, last summer we got a puppy – Mark said she was for Ella, but …"
Carol laughed. "The girls have been begging us for a dog for years. We really don't have the time to take care of one, though. And Doug isn't so much of an animal lover."
Elizabeth decided she couldn't wait any longer – it was time to bite the bullet. "Carol," she began, putting down the remains of her sandwich. "What's going on?"
Carol's eyes met Elizabeth's, focused for a moment, then unfocused again. She leaned back and sighed, recognizing that the time had come. "What do you mean?"
"What do I mean?" She was disbelieving. "What's wrong between you and Doug? Why do you seem so down?" She leaned forward even more. "Why does your daughter look like a cancer patient?"
Carol blanched visibly at the last, and sighed again. "I should have warned you. She really looks bad, doesn't she?"
"Carol, she looks terrible."
"Yeah, well, she ought to. She practically hasn't eaten since August."
Elizabeth sat back. "So it is an eating disorder." Carol nodded, her fingertips at her temples. "I was afraid of that."
"It started pretty soon after my mom died … she really took it hard, you know?"
"Yeah, I can see that." She toyed with her coffee cup. "So, what kind of help are you getting for her?"
Carol fidgeted, rearranged herself on the chair. "It's been really tough. At first, we sort of missed it – losing my mom was pretty hard for all of us. And school was starting, and Doug's new job … I think she'd been not eating very well for almost a month before we really realized something was wrong."
"Then what did you do?"
"We took her in for a physical. We took Tess too … we didn't want to freak either of them out. Everything was still fine – she had lost some weight, but things have gotten a lot worse since then."
"What does Doug say?"
She sighed, the biggest sigh yet. "That's the problem. We're sort of divided about what to do. I really want to get her into therapy, to recognize this as a problem. He's just as worried about her and her health and everything, but he thinks it's more of a phase. He's afraid that if we make this into a big deal, we'll just trigger her and make it worse."
Elizabeth was aghast. "He wants to just do nothing?!"
"I know, it sounds awful. He feels like she's not going to get better until she makes the decision to do it on her own. It's also true that whenever we've mentioned it, she does seem to get worse, like she's thinking about it more or something. He thinks I'm wrong to try and make her eat … and he's right that it doesn't work. I don't know – there's never been anything like this that she won't talk to either of us about." She ran a hand roughly through her curls. "It's like all of us have been walking on eggshells for months. Doug and I can hardly even talk about it anymore … and I think Tess is going nuts – she has no idea whose side she's supposed to be on."
"Carol, Kate needs to talk to somebody. Does she understand all of the damage she's doing to herself?"
"Well, yeah, we've told her. Of course, how much can you understand at that age? At fourteen, you're living in the now, not twenty years in the future when you want to have children and you can't because you've ruined your reproductive system and you're breaking bones because of osteoporosis and your organs are damaged." Her voice finally broke as she hid her eyes.
At this, Elizabeth left her seat and went around the table to catch Carol up in her arms. "She's much too special of a child to lose this way, Carol."
She pulled back, wiped her eyes. "I know."
After clambering out of the car and waving goodbye to their mothers, Tess, Kate and Ella headed up Telegraph Avenue, away from the UC Berkeley campus entrance. It had been threatening to rain all day, but so far was just damp and gray, the streets wet from the night before. Ella, accustomed to the far colder Midwestern winters of Chicago, was delighted to be traipsing around outside in only a light sweater.
The street vendors that lined the avenue were out in full force, hoping to cash in on the last few days of Christmas shoppers. As Tess and Kate chattered about the great bookstores and used clothing places just up the street, the girls examined tables of homemade jewelry, tie-dyed clothing, ceramic picture frames, leather-tooled belts and wallets, and the occasional hand-blown pipe. At one table full of embroidery, Ella grabbed Tess's arm and pointed to a red and blue woven dog collar. "That would look so cute on Rosie!"
"Rosie?"
"She's my puppy."
"Ella, you should get it! It can be a Christmas present for her," said Kate.
She smiled, handing the vendor the five dollars for it. Hopefully it would make her feel a little bit less guilty about leaving poor Rosie for almost two weeks with her best friend Sasha and her family.
A little further up the avenue, they stopped into a giant used music store, where all three of the girls found gifts for their parents. As the twins' purchases were rung up, Ella waited just outside, next to a pungent stand stocked with hundreds of different kinds of incense. She was already something of a people-watcher, but the people here were positively fascinating – she counted at least a dozen different artificial hair colors and many body piercings in places she had never even contemplated.
Tess and Kate burst out onto the street. "Ella, are you hungry?" asked Tess, taking her arm, and Ella nodded. "Because," she continued dramatically, "We're taking you to the best pizza place ever."
It certainly didn't look like anything very special, Ella thought, as they sat in a crowded, ill-lit room in the back of the pizza place ten minutes later. The plates were paper, the ambience was atrocious, and they certainly weren't going to win any housekeeping prizes anytime soon. But Tess was right: the huge, thick slices of pizza were fabulous.
About halfway through her food, however, Ella looked up at Tess and Kate across the table. At the register, Kate had declined to order anything, saying she was full from breakfast – a big lie, Ella realized. Tess had discreetly ordered a slice for her and put it on the table, and Kate had blotted the grease with a napkin, picked off the vegetables and shredded them, peeled off some of the cheese, and ripped at some of the crusty edge, but she had certainly not put any of it in her mouth.
Ella couldn't help staring at this bizarre behavior, and when Tess noticed her watching she nudged Kate. "What?" said Kate, refusing to meet her gaze.
"Come on," she hissed back, clearly not wanting to say it out loud.
Kate expelled a breath. "Tess. Will you please stop bugging me?"
Ella, shocked across the table, saw that Tess's eyes were filling with angry tears against her will. "You were right, Tess," she said, almost stuttering in her rush to get the words out. "This is the greatest pizza. We should bring my dad here sometime. He loves good pizza."
Tess turned back to her, trying valiantly to keep her voice steady. "Yeah, we should if we have time."
Kate took this opportunity to wrap her pizza up in a napkin and dump it in the trash. Sitting back down at the table, she looked up at her sister, her jaw raised in a challenge. "Ella," she said, turning. "Does your mom like books? There are some really great stores in the next couple of blocks if you still need to get gifts for anybody."
"So, he doesn't want to do anything for her at all?" Mark, sitting on the bed in the guest room that evening after dinner, looked just as incredulous as Elizabeth had felt earlier. "What the hell is he thinking?"
Pacing back and forth in front of him, Elizabeth threw up her hands. "You're asking me? I think it's insane."
"Well, we both know Doug. It's not like he isn't worried … you can tell by the way they're both looking at Kate. They're never all uptight like this. He must think he's doing the right thing – you know it's impossible to talk him out of anything."
She scoffed. "Well, the cowboy approach might fly when he's at work, but this is a fourteen-year-old child who needs some real help. Not to mention her sister. Not to mention her mother!"
He was nodding. "Yeah, of course you're right. But is it really our place to –"
The door opened and Ella peered in. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Her parents paused in mid-conversation and turned to her, their faces immediately softening out of the lines of intense worry. "Sure, Ellie, what is it?" asked Mark.
She closed the door behind her and turned to face them, clearly pensive. "I don't know if this is crazy, but …" she hesitated.
"What?" said Elizabeth, sitting down beside Mark on the bed.
She took a big breath. "Is there something wrong with Kate?"
Mark and Elizabeth turned to each other, momentarily surprised at Ella's perception. "Kate has a disease –" began Elizabeth.
"Do you know what an eating –" asked Mark at the same time.
Ella's eyes opened wide. "An eating disorder! That's what it is, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything made sense. Ella had certainly heard of eating disorders before, having spent the standard amount of time in junior high health classes. But the girls she surrounded herself with were, at least for now, a remarkably healthy and vigorous group – she'd never encountered one in real life before.
Her parents both nodded. "Do you have any questions about it?" asked her dad.
She thought. "Is she going to get better? Isn't anorexia like, really dangerous?"
Elizabeth was indescribably relieved at Ella's innocence. She was a healthy, strong, athletic kid – her mother was grateful that this particular adolescent pitfall didn't seem to have a place in her world. The news that Kate, someone Ella had always admired and looked up to, had fallen prey to it had been worrying Elizabeth since she'd realized what was going on, especially when she considered what effect it might have on her own daughter. "Yes, it can be very dangerous. She's pretty sick – you can see that. But hopefully she's going to get some help and she will get better."
Ella's brow was furrowed. "Why would she do this? Why would you want to be sick on purpose?" She thought of how weak and miserable she'd felt after her summertime bout with mono. "All she has to do is eat, right? Why doesn't she?!"
They both sighed – this might take a lot of explaining. "To you, it seems pretty dumb, I know," Mark began. "But for Kate, or anybody with an eating disorder, it's a lot more complicated than that."
The following afternoon, Christmas Eve, was cool and damp, the fog from the bay creeping up into the hills throughout the day and wrapping itself around the trees and houses perched along the irregular, winding streets. Ella had talked the twins into watching It's A Wonderful Life and the three had donned wool socks and sweats and were camped out in the living room. Elizabeth and Carol were getting organized in the kitchen, with several batches of cookies already cooling on the counters and a few other items still baking in the oven. Doug took one look out the window and declared the weather perfect for the basketball he and Mark had both been itching to play – he'd even put a hoop in their driveway a few years back.
They headed down the staircase and seemed to pick right up where they had left off – each of them even continuing to cheat in the old ways. Doug was a little quicker with his hands and in getting to the basket, but Mark's almost-daily morning run eventually paid off because his endurance was much better. He faced the now-panting Doug, faked left, then drove hard to the basket. At the last second, though, Doug snatched the ball from mid-air and spun away, both of them laughing. "Oh man," said Doug, taking a breather against the garage door. "You're a little more of a challenge than Tess."
"Oh, yeah? Well, you're a little tougher than Carter."
Doug laughed harder, ducking his head and rubbing his neck. "Carter? Is that who you've got to play against these days?"
"Yeah." He shrugged. "He tries, you know, but he's … pretty bad."
Doug slid down to sit against the door, the ball between his knees in their grubby gray sweatpants. "How's he doing these days, anyway?"
Mark went to sit next to him. "Oh, pretty well. Got married a few years ago."
"Oh, anybody I know?"
"Nope, I doubt it. They had a little girl last spring."
Doug's eyes widened. "There's something to make you feel old. Carter as a father."
"Yeah." Mark rested his head against the door. "Carter was such a goofy kid when he first showed up."
"And now he has a kid of his own … crazy. I remember when the girls were born, and then again when Carol brought them out to Seattle … finally realizing that I was really a certified adult all of a sudden."
"When Rachel was born I was still a kid. We both were … we had no idea what we were doing. She's lucky she survived her first year."
He laughed. "Yeah, but she turned out all right, it seems like."
Mark nodded, thinking of Rachel, who after many admittedly rocky years, had finally gotten herself together and gone to school in New York, where she'd done very well. In the last few years she'd even started a little bookstore in the Village with a couple of friends and seemed genuinely happy, although she was still fairly averse to the idea of communicating with her mother. He remembered his fears for Rachel when she was much younger, at the ages of Ella and the twins. It occurred to him, though, that he'd never had to worry for her physical health the way that Doug and Carol must be worrying for Kate's now. "Doug, Kate looks pretty bad."
Doug looked up, startled, into Mark's eyes. "Yeah." Then silence, as he looked back down at the cement.
He tried again. "She needs some help."
He sighed. "Mark, I've seen so many kids who got started this way, and then everybody around them just explodes the idea in their head by making it into a big deal. It's not helping her to try and force her to eat every day because this is about her and how she feels – she's got to do it on her own if it's going to work."
Mark was shocked. "What do you mean if it's going to work? What if it doesn't work? Then what?"
He said nothing, but Mark couldn't help reading plenty in the silence. It was apparent that Doug was just as anguished about this as Elizabeth had said Carol was. Clearly, he believed this was the best way for Kate to get better, but just as obviously, he was terrified – neither of her parents had expected things to go this far or get this bad.
"Doug, she's sick."
"She's not sick. She's a confused, sensitive fourteen-year-old girl who misses her grandmother and she deserves a chance to grow up a little."
Mark stood up, an involuntary wave of anger carrying him away and up the stairs to the house. "Well, it may have started out that way, Doug, but you need to open your eyes and see that she's sick. You need to look around at what she's doing to herself and what this is doing to all of you – the girls, Carol, all of you."
It had only been a few short years since Tess, Kate and Ella had had to be practically stapled to their beds in order to keep them there until a reasonable hour on Christmas morning, but this year they all actually had to be roused. Mark poked his head inside the door and impatiently called Ella's name around eight-thirty.
She moaned and rolled over; all three of them were still tired from their late night of card games.
"Hey," said Mark, more loudly. "Wake up!" When this too proved ineffective, he walked to Ella's futon and bent over her, cupping his hands to her ear and bellowing. "Presents! Get up!"
This proved to be the magic phrase, as Ella leapt up, rubbing her ear, and the twins followed.
Unwrapping happened relatively quickly and successfully – Ella especially loved her new books, particularly those titles sent by her grandfather, the twins were equally delighted with new CDs and sweaters, and all of them were happy to see that their parents seemed genuinely pleased with what they'd received as well.
Carol went to start pancakes and coffee. Elizabeth picked up a white department store box near Ella's feet and extricated the blue velvet dress it contained. "Ella, why don't you go upstairs and try this on? See if it fits?"
She grimaced and slumped. "Now?" Ella had never been easy to get into dressy clothes – she was far happier in jeans and a T-shirt, or even better, her rattiest soccer shorts and lucky socks.
Tess pulled her up by her arm. "Yeah, come on. It's so pretty, and in our room we've got that full-length mirror you can see in." Reluctantly, Ella obeyed, and Kate followed them upstairs.
Once in the dress, Ella had to admit that it was pretty – her mom had always been excellent at picking out nice clothes. It was a probably a good thing, too, or else she never would have found her way into a single dress … she supposed this meant shoe-shopping when they got home, too, since she'd grown out of last winter's mary-janes.
Tess squealed with delight when she saw Ella's reflection in the mirror. "Oh, that's such a beautiful dress! That color looks great on you." She stood behind Ella and started gathering her hair up off her neck, as Ella dubiously tried to figure out what about the color looked so great.
Kate was lounging on the futon, looking approvingly at Ella. "Yeah, it is pretty … Ella, you're so skinny."
Tess froze, her hands knuckle-deep in Ella's thick, wavy hair. Ella, however, turned defensively. "What do you mean? I'm not skinny. I'm strong … look, I have muscles from soccer." She pointed emphatically down at her bare legs. Ella had spent years trying to prove that she could be just as effective on the soccer field as some of the taller, bigger girls she was playing against, and this was something of a well-used speech. To her, skinny meant weak and little, and she was offended. "You're the one who's skinny."
Kate's eyes widened – she was not angered, but completely surprised by this attitude, and she could say nothing. Ella, meanwhile, turned back to the mirror, as Tess's hands finally relaxed in her hair.
Later that afternoon, Ella asked permission to call Chicago and wish her best friend Sasha a Merry Christmas and to check in on Rosie. She was regaled with stories of Rosie's naughty puppy antics (particularly her keen affection for attacking things, especially expensive running shoes and the tails of Sasha's yellow labs, Luke and Sadie) and Sasha said she couldn't wait to see her when she got home. As soon as Ella hung up the phone in the empty guest room, it rang, startling her momentarily. She answered it. "Hello, Ross residence?"
"Hi, is Kate there?"
Ella fetched Kate, who picked up the phone and exclaimed, "Jacqui! You'll never guess what CD my dad got me!"
Ella went back to the twins' room across the hall, where Tess was sitting cross-legged on her bed, going through some photographs. Ella inhaled appreciatively. "Dinner's almost ready, can you smell it?"
Tess looked up and smiled. "Yep. I can't wait. I've been sitting in here getting hungrier and hungrier."
Ella sat on the other end of the bed. "What pictures are those?"
Tess handed her a few. "They're from when a bunch of us went to the beach last July. I'm going to pick a few to put up on the wall over there." She pointed to a spot near the door. "It's so gray and rainy now that I figure we need some summery pictures."
Ella smiled at the girls in bathing suits, posing dramatically and grinning into the camera as they sat on colorful towels in the sand. Suddenly she realized what looked different. With disbelief, she held up one picture of the twins with their arms around each other's shoulders, much like in the muddy soccer picture from when they were younger. "Is this Kate?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.
Tess nodded solemnly, knowing exactly what she meant.
Ella couldn't stop staring. "Tess, she looks so good." Kate looked remarkably like Tess, in fact.
Tess looked down, drawing her knees up to her chin, flexing the arches of her feet in their gray wool socks. "Yeah. That's back when she wasn't so sick." She looked up again. "She used to be different, you know? Remember last time you saw us, and she wasn't like this? She used to be so much fun, so silly, she used to make me laugh every five minutes … she just had more energy then, I guess."
"Doesn't she ever eat at all?"
She sighed. "Yeah. I know it doesn't look she really does, but she does eat sometimes. She'll eat fruit, or even some regular food. Sometimes my mom gets really upset and makes her eat – but that's even worse because a lot of times after that she'll make herself throw it all up."
Ella couldn't believe it. "That's horrible."
"I know. That's why sometimes I think maybe my dad's right and it's even worse to make her eat. I don't think they know about the throwing up, though. She hides it. It's like sometimes she will eat when we ask her to, and sometimes we make her worse, and you never know which it'll be, like walking a tight rope, you've got to be so careful."
"Okay, but this can't go on forever, right? What's going to happen when she gets even sicker than she is now?"
Tess didn't answer, but pressed her chin to her knees, her eyelids low. When she looked up again, the dark hazel eyes were wet. "I don't know. Sometimes I know she gets really dizzy. She's passed out in the shower before. She wakes up in the middle of the night because the muscles in her legs knot up and hurt her really bad." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "And you can see how she's cold and tired all the time."
Ella didn't know what to say.
"I don't think Kate is scared about what's happening to her, even though this is the first thing she's ever refused to talk to me about, ever since we were babies. But I am scared. And my parents are … they've never ever been this worried about anything. It was already so hard when my grandma died and then this started to happen."
Just then, the door opened and in came Kate. Tess smoothed back her soft dark curls and smiled at her, and Ella turned and smiled as well. Kate stopped in her tracks, instantly seeing the faint tears on Tess's cheeks. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing. We were just looking at these pictures from the beach."
"Oh." She raised an eyebrow, but after a beat grinned at her sister. "I was just talking to Jacqui, she says Merry Christmas." She climbed onto the bed between the others, folding her legs underneath her, cuddling up to Tess. She pointed to one of the pictures in Ella's hands. "That's Jacqui, the one in the red shorts," she said. She leaned back against Tess's shoulder, all the dark curls spilling together, and smiled, her eyes clear. Tess smiled too, and Ella could see that their eyes were exactly the same.
The next few days continued to be perfect for the curling up, reading, and relaxing that happened in the Ross house – they were gray, foggy and cool. Everybody had a new book to read and new music to listen to, and Mark got reacquainted with the hilly roads around the house on several good runs, some of them with Carol.
Tess, Kate and Ella begged rides to a few movies down on Shattuck, and Ella met several of the twins' friends, including Jacqui and the boy named Austin. She found that she didn't really like him any more than Kate did – Tess had a tendency to hang all over him adoringly and somehow her backbone seemed to disappear when he was around and telling her what to do.
There were a few evenings when the girls convinced their parents to go out for dinner while they had the run of the house and were free to glue themselves to the television for as long as they wanted. Doug and Carol introduced Mark and Elizabeth to a few more of their favorite restaurants and once they made the trek across the bay to catch a late show in San Francisco.
In the car on the way back, Doug suddenly had a thought. "Hey, Mark, how's Jenn doing these days?"
With some difficulty, Elizabeth suppressed her first comment about her current opinions about Mark's ex-wife, keeping quiet for the moment.
"We haven't heard from her in awhile," replied Mark.
"Rachel has, hasn't she?" Elizabeth leaned forward from the backseat.
"Oh yeah, that's right. Jenn had this idea to sort of reunite with Rachel for her birthday last year so she flew to New York. Didn't work out so well, though."
"Understatement of the year," Elizabeth said under her breath.
"Why not?" asked Doug, picturing the young, ambitious Jenn, Mark's first love, that he had known all those years ago in Chicago.
"Well, Rachel wasn't exactly happy to see her. She pretty much refused to let her into her apartment and they had a big scene in the hallway, which started all of her neighbor's Chihuahuas yapping. The woman came out to yell at them, and Jenn yelled right back and said the dogs were a disturbance. The neighbor said she was the disturbance and went and called the cops. Rachel still wouldn't let Jenn in, so she ended up actually getting picked up …"
Doug was incredulous. "Jenn? Arrested by the NYPD?"
"Well, she knew who to call, I guess. She got out of there fine."
Carol was watching the ships beneath them as they made their way across the lower level of the bridge. "Rachel was how old when Jenn kicked her out?"
"Fourteen," replied Mark, leaning down to change the radio station.
All four of them sighed in unison, considering the implications of those unpredictable events that had transpired more than a decade ago.
It was the day before New Year's Eve when Carol and Doug spent the late afternoon preparing dinner, topping pasta with chicken and pesto. Mark was in the guest room, just finishing a short note he was planning to send to Rachel with several Christmas pictures of all of them when Elizabeth came to sit beside him on the bed and took his hand. He looked up, and she kissed him deeply, drawing away with a wide smile and bright eyes.
He laughed softly. "What was that for?"
She touched his jaw, lightly, with her fingertips. "Nothing … this is just the time of year when I remember New York and how lucky we were."
He smiled back. "How lucky we are."
She nodded. "Are, yeah."
They were interrupted by Ella, who buzzed up the stairs and stuck her head in. "Dinner's ready!" she exclaimed with glee, then disappeared again.
She was right to be gleeful because dinner was wonderful. Everybody dug in, murmuring their happiness and thanks – with the exception of Kate.
Tess, sitting next to her, nudged her in the elbow, but to no avail. Carol tried passing her the bread, but she simply kept the basket going to her dad on her other side. She was pushing the food around on her plate, but she was clearly determined to keep it there. Everyone at the table was becoming more and more uncomfortable, and were all surprised when it was Doug's voice that broke the silence. "Kate," he said. "Eat your dinner."
Kate was, in fact, the most surprised of all of them to hear this come out of her father's mouth. She said nothing, however.
"I'm not kidding," he said, and certainly wasn't. "We spent time on this food. It tastes good. It's healthy. You need to eat. Eat it."
Tears were gathering in Tess's eyes and she let out an audible breath of air when Kate abruptly picked up her fork and began, mechanically and quickly, to eat everything on her plate.
The relief that everyone felt lasted for the two minutes it took Kate to finish the food and for the ten seconds she sat in her chair afterwards. Then, when she pushed back her chair and departed, everyone stared at each other, wide-eyed and unsure. Finally, Carol dropped her fork with a clatter and the tears in Tess's eyes spilled over. Elizabeth could no longer stand it, so she pushed back her own chair and followed Kate upstairs.
Her suspicions were confirmed – she found Kate crouched and retching at the toilet like a small dark animal, her left hand tearing at her throat. Elizabeth was too late to stop her, but she closed the door, sat at the edge of the bathtub and waited quietly for her to finish. Kate did so, then flushed and brushed her teeth, avoiding Elizabeth's eyes in the mirror. Finally, though, she turned around to face her, her back against the counter. "Don't you think it's gross to watch me do that?"
Elizabeth considered. "I'm a doctor. I've seen plenty of bodily functions. It doesn't really bother me anymore … but I do think it's disgusting for a perfectly healthy person to do that to themselves."
Kate paled. She sank to the floor, her knees bent, and looked up at Elizabeth. "I know it is." She sighed. "I wouldn't do it if they didn't make me eat, you know."
Elizabeth's gaze was even and clear. "Kate. They're only making you eat because they love you and they're terrified – look at yourself. You're making yourself sick and they're horribly frightened that they're going to lose you."
Kate had obviously considered all of this, but she'd never had it spelled out for her. "Lose me?"
"Yes, lose you."
"That's crazy. I'm not trying to die, or anything like that!"
"But that's effectively what you're doing. You can't go on like this forever, can't you see that?"
Kate stopped for a minute, looking thoughtful and surprised. She spoke slowly, "My mom once tried to kill herself, did you know that? She's never told me or Tess, I heard it from one of my cousins. She took a bunch of pills."
Elizabeth hadn't known Carol then, but Mark had told her about it. "Yes, I had heard that."
She rationalized, "But I'm not really sick. I just don't really like eating food that's, you know, fattening –"
"Or greasy, or dairy, or barbecued, or mushy, or green or brown or yellow or red or rainbow-colored. I know, I know, you don't want to be fat and you know that eating food will do that to you. It's the most terrifying thing you can think of, and you're sure that if you eat as much as a normal person, or as much as your mom wants you to, you'll be a huge, flabby mess for the rest of your life. I know."
Kate was nearly shaking. She regarded Elizabeth for a moment, speechless. "How do you know all that?"
She softened. "Did your mom ever tell you that I went to boarding school?"
Kate shook her head, back and forth against the cabinet. "In England?"
"That's right. Well, boarding schools are quite notorious for fostering eating disorders. Something about the combination of being away from your parents, living so closely with so many girls your own age, and of course the terrible food … anyway, that's how I first knew."
"Did you …?"
"No. I didn't. But several of my closest friends certainly did."
Kate was quiet. Elizabeth rested her chin in her hands and looked into the hazel eyes. "Kate, do you understand how very worried your mother and your father and your sister are?"
She hesitated and looked down at her fingernails, which, Elizabeth couldn't help noticing, were a particularly unhealthy shade of grayish blue. When she spoke again her voice was thick and wet. "I know they're worried. But I just, I just … can't …" she buried her face in her knees, hugged them to her chest, becoming even smaller.
When she'd imagined such a conversation in her head, Elizabeth had envisioned maintaining her resolve, but when faced with this anguished, miserable child, she couldn't help lowering herself to the floor, taking her in her arms, rocking her gently until her sobs slowed.
Kate was exhausted by the emotion and the tears, and curled without a word for some time. Finally, she looked up. "I don't know how to not be like this. Sometimes it scares me because I know it's not good for me, but I don't think I even want to stop."
"I know. It's very scary. You're going to need the support of everyone who loves you – and I hope you know that we're all here for you whenever you need us. To stop this you're going to have to be stronger than you've ever been in your life. But you can."
She looked doubtful and hopeless, but Elizabeth could see that at least the idea had been planted in her head.
New Year's Eve proved to be the first clear night in nearly a week, which was a treat because from the big windows at the front of the house, they could make out the fireworks that were set off over the bay. At about eleven-thirty, Ella was stretched out on the living room floor, watching the recorded broadcast of the festivities in Times Square on television. She turned to Mark, who was sitting with Elizabeth and an enormous bowl of popcorn on the sofa behind her. "Do you think Rachel's there this year?"
"Oh, I don't know. Probably. She usually tries to make it down there with a few of her friends. Tomorrow we'll call and wish her a Happy New Year and ask."
Tess bounced in from the kitchen, wearing a party hat, star-shaped sunglasses and a sparkly tank top, carrying noisemakers for all of them. Kate, draped across the loveseat, swatted her as she sat down. "Newsflash – we're inside. How can you even see with those on?"
"I can see fine. Or I could, if you weren't in my way," she returned, shoving her sister to make room for them to share the loveseat.
Doug came in next, with a tray of champagne glasses and sparkling cider for the girls. "Do you think you can pretend to be civilized and well-trained for a few minutes and not spill this?" he said to Tess and Kate, holding out two glasses of cider.
They both laughed and accepted them. Ella watched as Kate endured several seconds of a hard look from Tess, then tossed her head and raised the glass to her lips, almost in a challenge.
Doug distributed the rest of the drinks, then joined Carol at the far end of the sofa, pulling her to his chest. She laid her head against him, thankful that they'd had several tension-dissipating conversations earlier in the day.
Elizabeth watched them from her own comfortable position in Mark's arms, glad to see any sign of improvement. She'd filled them in the night before about what Kate had said in the bathroom and told them of her own experiences and opinions. Doug had finally been ready to see, and Carol had known exactly what to tell him. Ultimately, nobody could be sure what would happen with Kate, but her parents had at least been able to agree to get her into some therapy as soon as possible. She was nowhere near being ready to have a conversation about this with either of her parents, but she was becoming aware of the support around her. Finally it seemed possible that she might someday harness some of her own confidence and strength in order to see through this confusion and difficulty.
As the countdown to midnight began, both in New York on the TV screen and there in the living room, and they all waited for the fireworks to erupt, Elizabeth looked up at Mark's face above her, and over at Ella, trying valiantly to stay awake on the floor, and was suddenly flooded with gratitude all over again.
THE END
By: Julexer
DISCLAIMER: "ER", the characters and situations depicted within are the property of Warner Bros. Television, Amblin Entertainment, Constant C Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission but without the intent of infringement. The story presented here is written solely for entertainment purposes, and the author is not making a profit.
Please do not post or distribute without the disclaimer above, or without the permission of the author.
Feedback is welcome and appreciated. Write to julexer@hotmail.com
BIG, HUGE thanks go to Lori for her incredibly helpful and extensive feedback AND for titling this particular story.
SUMMARY: The Greene family returns to the Bay Area for a Christmastime visit with the Rosses, but they don't find everything as they had expected.
RATING: PG-13
Elizabeth looked over the sleepy head of her daughter, who was curled in the seat to her right, and out the window, watching the densely glittering lights of the city rise up to meet them as they descended. She reached for Mark's hand to her left in the final moments before they landed – flying into Oakland always unnerved her slightly. To their left the Pacific stretched endlessly and as they approached the runway nothing but lightless water was beneath them. They dipped lower and lower and just as it seemed they were in for a water landing, the runway suddenly appeared below.
Mark looked over at her barely audible sigh of relief and smiled. "We're here," he called to Ella, who opened her eyes and looked foggily out the window. She had always been blessed with the ability to fall sound asleep by the time they reached cruising altitude on any flight.
Mark reached to gather his coat and zip the carry-on bag stowed beneath his feet, itching to get off the plane after the long day of traveling. He was definitely looking forward to seeing Doug and Carol and their girls – he hadn't seen them since their summertime visit to Chicago two and a half years ago. When Doug had left County fifteen years ago, Mark had been genuinely worried about him as a friend – it brought him tremendous relief to know that things had turned out so well with his career and family after they'd parted ways.
"Ella, hurry up," directed Elizabeth, as Ella was still trying to get her eyes to stay open while the passengers behind them waited impatiently. Finally, the three of them made it off the plane and trundled up the jetway, the temperature of which made all of them realize with pleasure that December in the Bay Area was a completely different proposition than the blistering cold they had left behind in Chicago.
As they emerged from the tunnel into the airport, Elizabeth looked for Doug and Carol, who were supposed to be meeting them. This was always a special moment, laying eyes on such good friends again after being apart for so long. She caught just a flash of Doug's dark eyes to her left before Carol caught her up in a big hug. Excitement took over as Doug reached to carry her bag and Ella dashed over to the twins, her sleepiness all but forgotten.
Tess and Kate had just turned fourteen the month before, while Ella would not be thirteen until late spring, and Elizabeth watched the glowing, raven- haired Tess as she and Ella squealed their hellos. Childishness was beginning to slip away from her face this winter, and she looked very much like both of her parents, had strong, lovely features and exuded the same confidence and sass that had been embodied by both Doug and Carol at their best times for as long as Elizabeth had known them.
Suddenly, though, she realized what was wrong with the picture just past the departure and arrival monitors. The sparkle and health of Tess was sadly lacking in her sister. Kate looked positively ill. Her curls were limp, the skin of her face had an odd, bluishly translucent quality, and most noticeably, she clearly weighed a good fifteen or twenty pounds less than Tess, who was definitely on the slim side for fourteen herself.
Carol followed Elizabeth's gaze across the room and prepared herself for the shock that she knew would appear in the green eyes. It did, and Elizabeth turned back. "Carol, what…?"
"I should have warned you. I'll tell you later, okay?" Her voice was low. She felt Doug's unspoken exasperation behind her and tried to change the subject. "Let's go get your luggage, all right?"
There was a certain desperate edge to the way Carol looked at her that stopped Elizabeth's questions. She looked wonderingly back at the girls, at the two healthy ones and this strangely fragile creature next to them, and exchanged a look with Mark, who looked as puzzled as she felt, but held her tongue and followed the others to the baggage claim area.
It was past ten by the time they reached the house in the Berkeley hills and the girls trooped upstairs, promising to go to bed before it was too late. Their parents headed for the living room, looking out over the lights of the bay through the big front windows. Mark, on the loveseat, drew Elizabeth to his side, glad to be settled and through with the flights and airport schedules and looking forward to their ten days of vacation. "So, tell us about being in a pediatric ER full-time."
Doug, on the sofa with Carol's legs across his lap as she curled against the corner, smiled so big that Mark could see how much he loved the position he had held since late last spring. "It's great. I've never been able to focus on kids anywhere like this; the facility is unreal." Doug's efforts during the past several years at the general trauma center where Carol still worked had been recognized by Childrens' Hospital Oakland and he'd been named to the trauma staff as a director in the emergency department there. Childrens' was considered one of the best pediatric medical facilities on the west coast and it seemed Doug had finally found a place for his particular innovative, dedicated style, although it seemed to Mark that he must also have changed, calmed down and learned to follow at least a few rules. Doug shifted, his hand on Carol's knees. "How are things at County?"
"It's been feeling pretty tired," replied Mark. "We're gearing up for a big renovation this spring."
"What, in the ER?"
Elizabeth snorted. "Yeah, even though the entire hospital needs it. You should have seen Kerry and Robert squabbling over those funds – but she won, somehow."
Mark rolled his eyes, albeit good-naturedly – that particular dispute hadn't exactly belonged exclusively to Drs. Weaver and Romano. "How's work for you, Carol?"
Although working together in the emergency department in Berkeley since they'd moved to the Bay Area and Carol had returned to work had been a good experience, she was happy to remain there after Doug's move to Childrens', and she told Mark so. Doug interrupted, though, saying, "It does complicate the commute, though."
Elizabeth could clearly see two things about this exchange: Doug had genuinely meant the comment in jest, but Carol could not help stiffening in response. She wondered even more at this new tension, and yet could not help pressing the next button. "How are the girls?"
The look Doug and Carol shot each other at this question was involuntary and ended quickly, almost as if they were recoiling. Doug took the lead again, however. "They're good … you know, the end of junior high and all that."
Carol folded her arms and avoided Elizabeth's eyes. "They miss my mom a lot – that's been hard … especially for Kate." Doug's jaw tightened and the tension climbed another rung.
Even Mark was beginning to notice it, although he hadn't caught the earlier body language between the pair on the sofa. "We were so sorry to hear about your mom, Carol," he said. Helen had found herself missing Carol and her granddaughters after the move to Seattle, and had come to stay at least once every year, often arriving in time for Tess and Kate's birthday and staying through New Year's, lavishing the twins with gifts and kisses and good-natured scolding, and even cooking up a storm for Doug. Last spring, though, her kidneys had begun to fail after years of rocky health, and the Rosses had flown back to Chicago to be with her when she died in late summer.
Mark and Elizabeth could each see the strain on Carol's face at this turn in the conversation, and Mark quickly changed the subject. Elizabeth was glad to see Doug's visible concern for his wife, but she could also see how very carefully each of them was treading, that there were months of history here, layers that made her worry for both Doug and Carol, and for the girls.
Ella adored Tess and Kate's room. It was different each time they visited, always decorated with meticulous attention to detail, reflective of the vibrant, creative personalities of its two occupants. She always loved getting to sleep in it with them, on the futon spread out between their two beds. This winter the walls were pale yellow and covered with hundreds of snapshots, artfully arranged – in patterns, according to theme and color and which people were posing in them. Ella couldn't help examining a few as soon as she walked in, although she knew she could spend hours looking at them all.
"I'm so excited that you guys are finally here!" said Tess, stretching out on the ivy-patterned white comforter on her bed. "It really feels like Christmas now, you know?"
Kate agreed, digging a heavy wool sweater out of the laundry pile at the foot of her bed and putting it on. "It feels sort of funny, though, since you all usually come when it's summertime and warm. I hate being cold."
It occurred to Ella that she wasn't cold at all, that in fact she and Tess were both perfectly comfortable in T-shirts. Something was different about Kate; she looked tired and thin, the way Ella remembered feeling after she'd had mono last summer. In fact, she'd been so worn out after the mono that her parents had decided to postpone this trip until now, especially since the twins' grandmother had died. Maybe Kate had been sick recently too, with the flu or something.
Kate was animated and talkative tonight, though. "So, Ella, is there anything special you want to do while you're here? We've got a few ideas, but …"
"Like what?"
Tess jumped in. "Well, you've got to meet some of our friends, like Jacqui and Holly. And Austin –"
Kate interrupted, "Austin is your friend. Not mine."
Tess sighed, exasperated. Kate sneered back. "Anyway," Tess continued. "We can go to some movies and parties, and maybe hang out on the UC Berkeley campus for awhile, and maybe even take BART to San Francisco …"
"BART?"
"It's sort of like the El train."
Kate was rolling her eyes. "Could you be showing off any more? Like we aren't going to have to beg Mom and Dad to do half of this stuff? As if they would let us take Ella to a party."
Ella was secretly glad to hear this from Kate, having become slightly alarmed, after hearing Tess's list of activities, that perhaps the gap between seventh grade and eighth grade, or maybe Chicago and Berkeley, was larger than she had suspected. Tess, though, was rolling her eyes back. "Well, you don't have to be all negative about it from the beginning. God."
"Negative? More like realistic."
"Yeah, you call shooting down every idea I ever have being realistic? I don't see you obeying Mom and Dad's rules all that well!" They exchanged dagger-eyes from their respective beds.
Ella's eyes widened at this constant squabbling. Aside from being practically an only child, she was considerably more even-tempered than either Tess or Kate, and could not imagine arguing with anybody like this during an entire week, much less within five minutes. However, she realized that neither of them was angry or seriously irritated, and all was forgotten and forgiven in a matter of moments. It was readily apparent that with the twins, this was par for the course, a natural and necessary part of their close and passionate sisterhood.
"Whatever." Kate brushed her sister off. "Ella, how's your soccer team?" Everybody who knew Ella also knew about her limitless love for soccer, and especially for her beloved team.
She couldn't help grinning with pride. "Really good. We've been on the top of the league for a bunch of seasons in a row … and I got picked to be on varsity next fall without having to try out."
Tess and Kate were both visibly impressed. "Wow," said Kate. "We used to play soccer, remember?"
Tess laughed. "Yeah, but we were really bad. We were like, seven or something. We had those goofy purple uniforms … I bet we've got a picture up somewhere." She leapt up and squinted at the images along the far wall, next to the closet. "Yep!" she called triumphantly, detaching one and bringing it to Ella. A very young Tess and Kate grinned out at her, skinny brown arms around each other, tiny cleats and purple socks covered in muck.
Kate leaned back against the several pillows made of red, maroon, and blue velvet that were piled on her bed. "I bet we've still got a soccer ball somewhere," she said thoughtfully. "One day if it's not raining you should show us your stuff. We could all play and kick it around or something."
Ella smiled. "Okay, sure." She looked over at Tess just in time to catch the sharp glance she shot at her sister.
"I don't know, Kate …" Her face was so worried and pensive that Ella wondered immediately what she was concerned about. However, she kept quiet when Kate abruptly sat up and shot a glance of her own back at Tess, because her expression was clearly a warning.
The next morning when Ella woke up, she quickly closed her eyes again, the better to luxuriate in the warm, comfortable coziness of the futon, the quilts, and her flannel pajamas. The actual amount of time she had spent in this house wasn't all that much – just a week or so every couple of years. But she remembered every visit as such a good time that her instinctive sense of familiarity and security here was increased quite a lot. She wasn't intimidated by Tess and Kate the way she sometimes was with older girls in the eighth grade at home – maybe it was that she'd known them for so long, and they'd always been so welcoming and nice, and fun to have when they came to visit Chicago. And she'd always picked up on the warm friendship between her parents and Doug and Carol.
She finally opened her eyes and looked around the dusky room. Tess's bed was empty, the sheets mussed and the pillows dented. Kate, however, was still firmly asleep, curled into a small ball under her comforter. Ella was suddenly struck by how very different Kate looked from how she had expected her to. When she was awake, her smiles and talk distracted from the paleness of her skin, the funny purple circles under her eyes, and the way the bones under her neck stuck out, but when she was asleep Ella couldn't help staring.
Just then she heard a faint snatch of the conversation downstairs in the kitchen, which made her realize how hungry she was. Heading down the stairs, she could hear Tess, clearly wheedling, attempting to reason with both of her parents. "But Dad, we'll be careful. I swear. We've just got some stuff to, you know, buy for Christmas. And we can show Ella around …"
"Show me around where?" asked Ella, sliding in next to Tess at the kitchen table. Carol smiled and whisked the sourdough toast that had just popped up from the toaster to her plate, and Tess pushed the jars of peanut butter and blackberry jam her way.
"Around Berkeley, downtown. If we go to Telegraph Avenue, there are lots of really fun bookstores and street vendors and stuff because it's really close to the university campus. And really good pizza, too."
Doug was in charge of poaching the eggs at the stove. "Better watch out, Ella, or Tess'll try to turn you into another hippie kid."
Ella grinned back, hoping her parents would say yes.
Kate finally stumbled downstairs, wool socks upon her feet and her curls tangled around her head. She deliberately went to the cupboard and withdrew a glass, then filled it with ice water and sat down next to her sister to drink it. Ella watched as Carol, just as deliberately, placed a slice of toast in the center of her plate, saying nothing. Kate ignored it completely until Tess appeared to kick her under the table, at which point she tore off a tiny sliver and put it into her mouth. At this, Carol and Tess both visibly relaxed, but Ella could clearly see that Kate was merely shredding the rest of the bread up, piling it on her plate so it looked like less and less, but definitely not eating it.
This was weird.
Ella was not normally one to speak without consideration. She was usually much more likely to observe for a little while, to watch and see what information she could get on her own before asking, but she was totally confused here. She was nearly bursting to ask what was going on, to point to the demolished bread on Kate's plate and demand an explanation from Carol or Tess, but something was so clearly wrong that she stopped herself.
The moment passed, although the rest of the toast never left Kate's dish, and soon Mark and Elizabeth came downstairs as well. Ella immediately started working on them about the wonder and sheer adventure that was Telegraph Avenue, and with some additional talking-up from Tess and a few well-placed words of reassurance from Carol, they eventually agreed. "Just don't go home with any bums, even if they look clean, all right?" warned Mark as he salt-and-peppered his egg.
Carol and Elizabeth took advantage of the girls' shopping trip by dropping them off at the corner of Bancroft and Telegraph and then heading back up College to have lunch and coffee at a little place just past the Rockridge BART station. Carol slid into one of the small wooden booths with her sandwich, smiling over at Elizabeth.
Elizabeth smiled back, but internally, she was exasperated. Something was clearly wrong with Carol, with her family. It seemed much more deep-rooted than a small argument or anything like that – she'd never seen Carol so reticent and gloomy. Even more disturbingly, she'd never been so reluctant to talk about what the problem was.
They ate quietly for a few minutes, both watching a young man out the window who was walking up the wet street through the gray dampness with a toddler in a backpack and a golden retriever on a leash. Carol looked up. "Hey, didn't you guys get a dog?"
Elizabeth smiled again, picturing the floppy ears and goofy ways of Rosie, their eight-month-old retriever-shepherd mix. "Yeah, last summer we got a puppy – Mark said she was for Ella, but …"
Carol laughed. "The girls have been begging us for a dog for years. We really don't have the time to take care of one, though. And Doug isn't so much of an animal lover."
Elizabeth decided she couldn't wait any longer – it was time to bite the bullet. "Carol," she began, putting down the remains of her sandwich. "What's going on?"
Carol's eyes met Elizabeth's, focused for a moment, then unfocused again. She leaned back and sighed, recognizing that the time had come. "What do you mean?"
"What do I mean?" She was disbelieving. "What's wrong between you and Doug? Why do you seem so down?" She leaned forward even more. "Why does your daughter look like a cancer patient?"
Carol blanched visibly at the last, and sighed again. "I should have warned you. She really looks bad, doesn't she?"
"Carol, she looks terrible."
"Yeah, well, she ought to. She practically hasn't eaten since August."
Elizabeth sat back. "So it is an eating disorder." Carol nodded, her fingertips at her temples. "I was afraid of that."
"It started pretty soon after my mom died … she really took it hard, you know?"
"Yeah, I can see that." She toyed with her coffee cup. "So, what kind of help are you getting for her?"
Carol fidgeted, rearranged herself on the chair. "It's been really tough. At first, we sort of missed it – losing my mom was pretty hard for all of us. And school was starting, and Doug's new job … I think she'd been not eating very well for almost a month before we really realized something was wrong."
"Then what did you do?"
"We took her in for a physical. We took Tess too … we didn't want to freak either of them out. Everything was still fine – she had lost some weight, but things have gotten a lot worse since then."
"What does Doug say?"
She sighed, the biggest sigh yet. "That's the problem. We're sort of divided about what to do. I really want to get her into therapy, to recognize this as a problem. He's just as worried about her and her health and everything, but he thinks it's more of a phase. He's afraid that if we make this into a big deal, we'll just trigger her and make it worse."
Elizabeth was aghast. "He wants to just do nothing?!"
"I know, it sounds awful. He feels like she's not going to get better until she makes the decision to do it on her own. It's also true that whenever we've mentioned it, she does seem to get worse, like she's thinking about it more or something. He thinks I'm wrong to try and make her eat … and he's right that it doesn't work. I don't know – there's never been anything like this that she won't talk to either of us about." She ran a hand roughly through her curls. "It's like all of us have been walking on eggshells for months. Doug and I can hardly even talk about it anymore … and I think Tess is going nuts – she has no idea whose side she's supposed to be on."
"Carol, Kate needs to talk to somebody. Does she understand all of the damage she's doing to herself?"
"Well, yeah, we've told her. Of course, how much can you understand at that age? At fourteen, you're living in the now, not twenty years in the future when you want to have children and you can't because you've ruined your reproductive system and you're breaking bones because of osteoporosis and your organs are damaged." Her voice finally broke as she hid her eyes.
At this, Elizabeth left her seat and went around the table to catch Carol up in her arms. "She's much too special of a child to lose this way, Carol."
She pulled back, wiped her eyes. "I know."
After clambering out of the car and waving goodbye to their mothers, Tess, Kate and Ella headed up Telegraph Avenue, away from the UC Berkeley campus entrance. It had been threatening to rain all day, but so far was just damp and gray, the streets wet from the night before. Ella, accustomed to the far colder Midwestern winters of Chicago, was delighted to be traipsing around outside in only a light sweater.
The street vendors that lined the avenue were out in full force, hoping to cash in on the last few days of Christmas shoppers. As Tess and Kate chattered about the great bookstores and used clothing places just up the street, the girls examined tables of homemade jewelry, tie-dyed clothing, ceramic picture frames, leather-tooled belts and wallets, and the occasional hand-blown pipe. At one table full of embroidery, Ella grabbed Tess's arm and pointed to a red and blue woven dog collar. "That would look so cute on Rosie!"
"Rosie?"
"She's my puppy."
"Ella, you should get it! It can be a Christmas present for her," said Kate.
She smiled, handing the vendor the five dollars for it. Hopefully it would make her feel a little bit less guilty about leaving poor Rosie for almost two weeks with her best friend Sasha and her family.
A little further up the avenue, they stopped into a giant used music store, where all three of the girls found gifts for their parents. As the twins' purchases were rung up, Ella waited just outside, next to a pungent stand stocked with hundreds of different kinds of incense. She was already something of a people-watcher, but the people here were positively fascinating – she counted at least a dozen different artificial hair colors and many body piercings in places she had never even contemplated.
Tess and Kate burst out onto the street. "Ella, are you hungry?" asked Tess, taking her arm, and Ella nodded. "Because," she continued dramatically, "We're taking you to the best pizza place ever."
It certainly didn't look like anything very special, Ella thought, as they sat in a crowded, ill-lit room in the back of the pizza place ten minutes later. The plates were paper, the ambience was atrocious, and they certainly weren't going to win any housekeeping prizes anytime soon. But Tess was right: the huge, thick slices of pizza were fabulous.
About halfway through her food, however, Ella looked up at Tess and Kate across the table. At the register, Kate had declined to order anything, saying she was full from breakfast – a big lie, Ella realized. Tess had discreetly ordered a slice for her and put it on the table, and Kate had blotted the grease with a napkin, picked off the vegetables and shredded them, peeled off some of the cheese, and ripped at some of the crusty edge, but she had certainly not put any of it in her mouth.
Ella couldn't help staring at this bizarre behavior, and when Tess noticed her watching she nudged Kate. "What?" said Kate, refusing to meet her gaze.
"Come on," she hissed back, clearly not wanting to say it out loud.
Kate expelled a breath. "Tess. Will you please stop bugging me?"
Ella, shocked across the table, saw that Tess's eyes were filling with angry tears against her will. "You were right, Tess," she said, almost stuttering in her rush to get the words out. "This is the greatest pizza. We should bring my dad here sometime. He loves good pizza."
Tess turned back to her, trying valiantly to keep her voice steady. "Yeah, we should if we have time."
Kate took this opportunity to wrap her pizza up in a napkin and dump it in the trash. Sitting back down at the table, she looked up at her sister, her jaw raised in a challenge. "Ella," she said, turning. "Does your mom like books? There are some really great stores in the next couple of blocks if you still need to get gifts for anybody."
"So, he doesn't want to do anything for her at all?" Mark, sitting on the bed in the guest room that evening after dinner, looked just as incredulous as Elizabeth had felt earlier. "What the hell is he thinking?"
Pacing back and forth in front of him, Elizabeth threw up her hands. "You're asking me? I think it's insane."
"Well, we both know Doug. It's not like he isn't worried … you can tell by the way they're both looking at Kate. They're never all uptight like this. He must think he's doing the right thing – you know it's impossible to talk him out of anything."
She scoffed. "Well, the cowboy approach might fly when he's at work, but this is a fourteen-year-old child who needs some real help. Not to mention her sister. Not to mention her mother!"
He was nodding. "Yeah, of course you're right. But is it really our place to –"
The door opened and Ella peered in. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Her parents paused in mid-conversation and turned to her, their faces immediately softening out of the lines of intense worry. "Sure, Ellie, what is it?" asked Mark.
She closed the door behind her and turned to face them, clearly pensive. "I don't know if this is crazy, but …" she hesitated.
"What?" said Elizabeth, sitting down beside Mark on the bed.
She took a big breath. "Is there something wrong with Kate?"
Mark and Elizabeth turned to each other, momentarily surprised at Ella's perception. "Kate has a disease –" began Elizabeth.
"Do you know what an eating –" asked Mark at the same time.
Ella's eyes opened wide. "An eating disorder! That's what it is, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything made sense. Ella had certainly heard of eating disorders before, having spent the standard amount of time in junior high health classes. But the girls she surrounded herself with were, at least for now, a remarkably healthy and vigorous group – she'd never encountered one in real life before.
Her parents both nodded. "Do you have any questions about it?" asked her dad.
She thought. "Is she going to get better? Isn't anorexia like, really dangerous?"
Elizabeth was indescribably relieved at Ella's innocence. She was a healthy, strong, athletic kid – her mother was grateful that this particular adolescent pitfall didn't seem to have a place in her world. The news that Kate, someone Ella had always admired and looked up to, had fallen prey to it had been worrying Elizabeth since she'd realized what was going on, especially when she considered what effect it might have on her own daughter. "Yes, it can be very dangerous. She's pretty sick – you can see that. But hopefully she's going to get some help and she will get better."
Ella's brow was furrowed. "Why would she do this? Why would you want to be sick on purpose?" She thought of how weak and miserable she'd felt after her summertime bout with mono. "All she has to do is eat, right? Why doesn't she?!"
They both sighed – this might take a lot of explaining. "To you, it seems pretty dumb, I know," Mark began. "But for Kate, or anybody with an eating disorder, it's a lot more complicated than that."
The following afternoon, Christmas Eve, was cool and damp, the fog from the bay creeping up into the hills throughout the day and wrapping itself around the trees and houses perched along the irregular, winding streets. Ella had talked the twins into watching It's A Wonderful Life and the three had donned wool socks and sweats and were camped out in the living room. Elizabeth and Carol were getting organized in the kitchen, with several batches of cookies already cooling on the counters and a few other items still baking in the oven. Doug took one look out the window and declared the weather perfect for the basketball he and Mark had both been itching to play – he'd even put a hoop in their driveway a few years back.
They headed down the staircase and seemed to pick right up where they had left off – each of them even continuing to cheat in the old ways. Doug was a little quicker with his hands and in getting to the basket, but Mark's almost-daily morning run eventually paid off because his endurance was much better. He faced the now-panting Doug, faked left, then drove hard to the basket. At the last second, though, Doug snatched the ball from mid-air and spun away, both of them laughing. "Oh man," said Doug, taking a breather against the garage door. "You're a little more of a challenge than Tess."
"Oh, yeah? Well, you're a little tougher than Carter."
Doug laughed harder, ducking his head and rubbing his neck. "Carter? Is that who you've got to play against these days?"
"Yeah." He shrugged. "He tries, you know, but he's … pretty bad."
Doug slid down to sit against the door, the ball between his knees in their grubby gray sweatpants. "How's he doing these days, anyway?"
Mark went to sit next to him. "Oh, pretty well. Got married a few years ago."
"Oh, anybody I know?"
"Nope, I doubt it. They had a little girl last spring."
Doug's eyes widened. "There's something to make you feel old. Carter as a father."
"Yeah." Mark rested his head against the door. "Carter was such a goofy kid when he first showed up."
"And now he has a kid of his own … crazy. I remember when the girls were born, and then again when Carol brought them out to Seattle … finally realizing that I was really a certified adult all of a sudden."
"When Rachel was born I was still a kid. We both were … we had no idea what we were doing. She's lucky she survived her first year."
He laughed. "Yeah, but she turned out all right, it seems like."
Mark nodded, thinking of Rachel, who after many admittedly rocky years, had finally gotten herself together and gone to school in New York, where she'd done very well. In the last few years she'd even started a little bookstore in the Village with a couple of friends and seemed genuinely happy, although she was still fairly averse to the idea of communicating with her mother. He remembered his fears for Rachel when she was much younger, at the ages of Ella and the twins. It occurred to him, though, that he'd never had to worry for her physical health the way that Doug and Carol must be worrying for Kate's now. "Doug, Kate looks pretty bad."
Doug looked up, startled, into Mark's eyes. "Yeah." Then silence, as he looked back down at the cement.
He tried again. "She needs some help."
He sighed. "Mark, I've seen so many kids who got started this way, and then everybody around them just explodes the idea in their head by making it into a big deal. It's not helping her to try and force her to eat every day because this is about her and how she feels – she's got to do it on her own if it's going to work."
Mark was shocked. "What do you mean if it's going to work? What if it doesn't work? Then what?"
He said nothing, but Mark couldn't help reading plenty in the silence. It was apparent that Doug was just as anguished about this as Elizabeth had said Carol was. Clearly, he believed this was the best way for Kate to get better, but just as obviously, he was terrified – neither of her parents had expected things to go this far or get this bad.
"Doug, she's sick."
"She's not sick. She's a confused, sensitive fourteen-year-old girl who misses her grandmother and she deserves a chance to grow up a little."
Mark stood up, an involuntary wave of anger carrying him away and up the stairs to the house. "Well, it may have started out that way, Doug, but you need to open your eyes and see that she's sick. You need to look around at what she's doing to herself and what this is doing to all of you – the girls, Carol, all of you."
It had only been a few short years since Tess, Kate and Ella had had to be practically stapled to their beds in order to keep them there until a reasonable hour on Christmas morning, but this year they all actually had to be roused. Mark poked his head inside the door and impatiently called Ella's name around eight-thirty.
She moaned and rolled over; all three of them were still tired from their late night of card games.
"Hey," said Mark, more loudly. "Wake up!" When this too proved ineffective, he walked to Ella's futon and bent over her, cupping his hands to her ear and bellowing. "Presents! Get up!"
This proved to be the magic phrase, as Ella leapt up, rubbing her ear, and the twins followed.
Unwrapping happened relatively quickly and successfully – Ella especially loved her new books, particularly those titles sent by her grandfather, the twins were equally delighted with new CDs and sweaters, and all of them were happy to see that their parents seemed genuinely pleased with what they'd received as well.
Carol went to start pancakes and coffee. Elizabeth picked up a white department store box near Ella's feet and extricated the blue velvet dress it contained. "Ella, why don't you go upstairs and try this on? See if it fits?"
She grimaced and slumped. "Now?" Ella had never been easy to get into dressy clothes – she was far happier in jeans and a T-shirt, or even better, her rattiest soccer shorts and lucky socks.
Tess pulled her up by her arm. "Yeah, come on. It's so pretty, and in our room we've got that full-length mirror you can see in." Reluctantly, Ella obeyed, and Kate followed them upstairs.
Once in the dress, Ella had to admit that it was pretty – her mom had always been excellent at picking out nice clothes. It was a probably a good thing, too, or else she never would have found her way into a single dress … she supposed this meant shoe-shopping when they got home, too, since she'd grown out of last winter's mary-janes.
Tess squealed with delight when she saw Ella's reflection in the mirror. "Oh, that's such a beautiful dress! That color looks great on you." She stood behind Ella and started gathering her hair up off her neck, as Ella dubiously tried to figure out what about the color looked so great.
Kate was lounging on the futon, looking approvingly at Ella. "Yeah, it is pretty … Ella, you're so skinny."
Tess froze, her hands knuckle-deep in Ella's thick, wavy hair. Ella, however, turned defensively. "What do you mean? I'm not skinny. I'm strong … look, I have muscles from soccer." She pointed emphatically down at her bare legs. Ella had spent years trying to prove that she could be just as effective on the soccer field as some of the taller, bigger girls she was playing against, and this was something of a well-used speech. To her, skinny meant weak and little, and she was offended. "You're the one who's skinny."
Kate's eyes widened – she was not angered, but completely surprised by this attitude, and she could say nothing. Ella, meanwhile, turned back to the mirror, as Tess's hands finally relaxed in her hair.
Later that afternoon, Ella asked permission to call Chicago and wish her best friend Sasha a Merry Christmas and to check in on Rosie. She was regaled with stories of Rosie's naughty puppy antics (particularly her keen affection for attacking things, especially expensive running shoes and the tails of Sasha's yellow labs, Luke and Sadie) and Sasha said she couldn't wait to see her when she got home. As soon as Ella hung up the phone in the empty guest room, it rang, startling her momentarily. She answered it. "Hello, Ross residence?"
"Hi, is Kate there?"
Ella fetched Kate, who picked up the phone and exclaimed, "Jacqui! You'll never guess what CD my dad got me!"
Ella went back to the twins' room across the hall, where Tess was sitting cross-legged on her bed, going through some photographs. Ella inhaled appreciatively. "Dinner's almost ready, can you smell it?"
Tess looked up and smiled. "Yep. I can't wait. I've been sitting in here getting hungrier and hungrier."
Ella sat on the other end of the bed. "What pictures are those?"
Tess handed her a few. "They're from when a bunch of us went to the beach last July. I'm going to pick a few to put up on the wall over there." She pointed to a spot near the door. "It's so gray and rainy now that I figure we need some summery pictures."
Ella smiled at the girls in bathing suits, posing dramatically and grinning into the camera as they sat on colorful towels in the sand. Suddenly she realized what looked different. With disbelief, she held up one picture of the twins with their arms around each other's shoulders, much like in the muddy soccer picture from when they were younger. "Is this Kate?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.
Tess nodded solemnly, knowing exactly what she meant.
Ella couldn't stop staring. "Tess, she looks so good." Kate looked remarkably like Tess, in fact.
Tess looked down, drawing her knees up to her chin, flexing the arches of her feet in their gray wool socks. "Yeah. That's back when she wasn't so sick." She looked up again. "She used to be different, you know? Remember last time you saw us, and she wasn't like this? She used to be so much fun, so silly, she used to make me laugh every five minutes … she just had more energy then, I guess."
"Doesn't she ever eat at all?"
She sighed. "Yeah. I know it doesn't look she really does, but she does eat sometimes. She'll eat fruit, or even some regular food. Sometimes my mom gets really upset and makes her eat – but that's even worse because a lot of times after that she'll make herself throw it all up."
Ella couldn't believe it. "That's horrible."
"I know. That's why sometimes I think maybe my dad's right and it's even worse to make her eat. I don't think they know about the throwing up, though. She hides it. It's like sometimes she will eat when we ask her to, and sometimes we make her worse, and you never know which it'll be, like walking a tight rope, you've got to be so careful."
"Okay, but this can't go on forever, right? What's going to happen when she gets even sicker than she is now?"
Tess didn't answer, but pressed her chin to her knees, her eyelids low. When she looked up again, the dark hazel eyes were wet. "I don't know. Sometimes I know she gets really dizzy. She's passed out in the shower before. She wakes up in the middle of the night because the muscles in her legs knot up and hurt her really bad." She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "And you can see how she's cold and tired all the time."
Ella didn't know what to say.
"I don't think Kate is scared about what's happening to her, even though this is the first thing she's ever refused to talk to me about, ever since we were babies. But I am scared. And my parents are … they've never ever been this worried about anything. It was already so hard when my grandma died and then this started to happen."
Just then, the door opened and in came Kate. Tess smoothed back her soft dark curls and smiled at her, and Ella turned and smiled as well. Kate stopped in her tracks, instantly seeing the faint tears on Tess's cheeks. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing. We were just looking at these pictures from the beach."
"Oh." She raised an eyebrow, but after a beat grinned at her sister. "I was just talking to Jacqui, she says Merry Christmas." She climbed onto the bed between the others, folding her legs underneath her, cuddling up to Tess. She pointed to one of the pictures in Ella's hands. "That's Jacqui, the one in the red shorts," she said. She leaned back against Tess's shoulder, all the dark curls spilling together, and smiled, her eyes clear. Tess smiled too, and Ella could see that their eyes were exactly the same.
The next few days continued to be perfect for the curling up, reading, and relaxing that happened in the Ross house – they were gray, foggy and cool. Everybody had a new book to read and new music to listen to, and Mark got reacquainted with the hilly roads around the house on several good runs, some of them with Carol.
Tess, Kate and Ella begged rides to a few movies down on Shattuck, and Ella met several of the twins' friends, including Jacqui and the boy named Austin. She found that she didn't really like him any more than Kate did – Tess had a tendency to hang all over him adoringly and somehow her backbone seemed to disappear when he was around and telling her what to do.
There were a few evenings when the girls convinced their parents to go out for dinner while they had the run of the house and were free to glue themselves to the television for as long as they wanted. Doug and Carol introduced Mark and Elizabeth to a few more of their favorite restaurants and once they made the trek across the bay to catch a late show in San Francisco.
In the car on the way back, Doug suddenly had a thought. "Hey, Mark, how's Jenn doing these days?"
With some difficulty, Elizabeth suppressed her first comment about her current opinions about Mark's ex-wife, keeping quiet for the moment.
"We haven't heard from her in awhile," replied Mark.
"Rachel has, hasn't she?" Elizabeth leaned forward from the backseat.
"Oh yeah, that's right. Jenn had this idea to sort of reunite with Rachel for her birthday last year so she flew to New York. Didn't work out so well, though."
"Understatement of the year," Elizabeth said under her breath.
"Why not?" asked Doug, picturing the young, ambitious Jenn, Mark's first love, that he had known all those years ago in Chicago.
"Well, Rachel wasn't exactly happy to see her. She pretty much refused to let her into her apartment and they had a big scene in the hallway, which started all of her neighbor's Chihuahuas yapping. The woman came out to yell at them, and Jenn yelled right back and said the dogs were a disturbance. The neighbor said she was the disturbance and went and called the cops. Rachel still wouldn't let Jenn in, so she ended up actually getting picked up …"
Doug was incredulous. "Jenn? Arrested by the NYPD?"
"Well, she knew who to call, I guess. She got out of there fine."
Carol was watching the ships beneath them as they made their way across the lower level of the bridge. "Rachel was how old when Jenn kicked her out?"
"Fourteen," replied Mark, leaning down to change the radio station.
All four of them sighed in unison, considering the implications of those unpredictable events that had transpired more than a decade ago.
It was the day before New Year's Eve when Carol and Doug spent the late afternoon preparing dinner, topping pasta with chicken and pesto. Mark was in the guest room, just finishing a short note he was planning to send to Rachel with several Christmas pictures of all of them when Elizabeth came to sit beside him on the bed and took his hand. He looked up, and she kissed him deeply, drawing away with a wide smile and bright eyes.
He laughed softly. "What was that for?"
She touched his jaw, lightly, with her fingertips. "Nothing … this is just the time of year when I remember New York and how lucky we were."
He smiled back. "How lucky we are."
She nodded. "Are, yeah."
They were interrupted by Ella, who buzzed up the stairs and stuck her head in. "Dinner's ready!" she exclaimed with glee, then disappeared again.
She was right to be gleeful because dinner was wonderful. Everybody dug in, murmuring their happiness and thanks – with the exception of Kate.
Tess, sitting next to her, nudged her in the elbow, but to no avail. Carol tried passing her the bread, but she simply kept the basket going to her dad on her other side. She was pushing the food around on her plate, but she was clearly determined to keep it there. Everyone at the table was becoming more and more uncomfortable, and were all surprised when it was Doug's voice that broke the silence. "Kate," he said. "Eat your dinner."
Kate was, in fact, the most surprised of all of them to hear this come out of her father's mouth. She said nothing, however.
"I'm not kidding," he said, and certainly wasn't. "We spent time on this food. It tastes good. It's healthy. You need to eat. Eat it."
Tears were gathering in Tess's eyes and she let out an audible breath of air when Kate abruptly picked up her fork and began, mechanically and quickly, to eat everything on her plate.
The relief that everyone felt lasted for the two minutes it took Kate to finish the food and for the ten seconds she sat in her chair afterwards. Then, when she pushed back her chair and departed, everyone stared at each other, wide-eyed and unsure. Finally, Carol dropped her fork with a clatter and the tears in Tess's eyes spilled over. Elizabeth could no longer stand it, so she pushed back her own chair and followed Kate upstairs.
Her suspicions were confirmed – she found Kate crouched and retching at the toilet like a small dark animal, her left hand tearing at her throat. Elizabeth was too late to stop her, but she closed the door, sat at the edge of the bathtub and waited quietly for her to finish. Kate did so, then flushed and brushed her teeth, avoiding Elizabeth's eyes in the mirror. Finally, though, she turned around to face her, her back against the counter. "Don't you think it's gross to watch me do that?"
Elizabeth considered. "I'm a doctor. I've seen plenty of bodily functions. It doesn't really bother me anymore … but I do think it's disgusting for a perfectly healthy person to do that to themselves."
Kate paled. She sank to the floor, her knees bent, and looked up at Elizabeth. "I know it is." She sighed. "I wouldn't do it if they didn't make me eat, you know."
Elizabeth's gaze was even and clear. "Kate. They're only making you eat because they love you and they're terrified – look at yourself. You're making yourself sick and they're horribly frightened that they're going to lose you."
Kate had obviously considered all of this, but she'd never had it spelled out for her. "Lose me?"
"Yes, lose you."
"That's crazy. I'm not trying to die, or anything like that!"
"But that's effectively what you're doing. You can't go on like this forever, can't you see that?"
Kate stopped for a minute, looking thoughtful and surprised. She spoke slowly, "My mom once tried to kill herself, did you know that? She's never told me or Tess, I heard it from one of my cousins. She took a bunch of pills."
Elizabeth hadn't known Carol then, but Mark had told her about it. "Yes, I had heard that."
She rationalized, "But I'm not really sick. I just don't really like eating food that's, you know, fattening –"
"Or greasy, or dairy, or barbecued, or mushy, or green or brown or yellow or red or rainbow-colored. I know, I know, you don't want to be fat and you know that eating food will do that to you. It's the most terrifying thing you can think of, and you're sure that if you eat as much as a normal person, or as much as your mom wants you to, you'll be a huge, flabby mess for the rest of your life. I know."
Kate was nearly shaking. She regarded Elizabeth for a moment, speechless. "How do you know all that?"
She softened. "Did your mom ever tell you that I went to boarding school?"
Kate shook her head, back and forth against the cabinet. "In England?"
"That's right. Well, boarding schools are quite notorious for fostering eating disorders. Something about the combination of being away from your parents, living so closely with so many girls your own age, and of course the terrible food … anyway, that's how I first knew."
"Did you …?"
"No. I didn't. But several of my closest friends certainly did."
Kate was quiet. Elizabeth rested her chin in her hands and looked into the hazel eyes. "Kate, do you understand how very worried your mother and your father and your sister are?"
She hesitated and looked down at her fingernails, which, Elizabeth couldn't help noticing, were a particularly unhealthy shade of grayish blue. When she spoke again her voice was thick and wet. "I know they're worried. But I just, I just … can't …" she buried her face in her knees, hugged them to her chest, becoming even smaller.
When she'd imagined such a conversation in her head, Elizabeth had envisioned maintaining her resolve, but when faced with this anguished, miserable child, she couldn't help lowering herself to the floor, taking her in her arms, rocking her gently until her sobs slowed.
Kate was exhausted by the emotion and the tears, and curled without a word for some time. Finally, she looked up. "I don't know how to not be like this. Sometimes it scares me because I know it's not good for me, but I don't think I even want to stop."
"I know. It's very scary. You're going to need the support of everyone who loves you – and I hope you know that we're all here for you whenever you need us. To stop this you're going to have to be stronger than you've ever been in your life. But you can."
She looked doubtful and hopeless, but Elizabeth could see that at least the idea had been planted in her head.
New Year's Eve proved to be the first clear night in nearly a week, which was a treat because from the big windows at the front of the house, they could make out the fireworks that were set off over the bay. At about eleven-thirty, Ella was stretched out on the living room floor, watching the recorded broadcast of the festivities in Times Square on television. She turned to Mark, who was sitting with Elizabeth and an enormous bowl of popcorn on the sofa behind her. "Do you think Rachel's there this year?"
"Oh, I don't know. Probably. She usually tries to make it down there with a few of her friends. Tomorrow we'll call and wish her a Happy New Year and ask."
Tess bounced in from the kitchen, wearing a party hat, star-shaped sunglasses and a sparkly tank top, carrying noisemakers for all of them. Kate, draped across the loveseat, swatted her as she sat down. "Newsflash – we're inside. How can you even see with those on?"
"I can see fine. Or I could, if you weren't in my way," she returned, shoving her sister to make room for them to share the loveseat.
Doug came in next, with a tray of champagne glasses and sparkling cider for the girls. "Do you think you can pretend to be civilized and well-trained for a few minutes and not spill this?" he said to Tess and Kate, holding out two glasses of cider.
They both laughed and accepted them. Ella watched as Kate endured several seconds of a hard look from Tess, then tossed her head and raised the glass to her lips, almost in a challenge.
Doug distributed the rest of the drinks, then joined Carol at the far end of the sofa, pulling her to his chest. She laid her head against him, thankful that they'd had several tension-dissipating conversations earlier in the day.
Elizabeth watched them from her own comfortable position in Mark's arms, glad to see any sign of improvement. She'd filled them in the night before about what Kate had said in the bathroom and told them of her own experiences and opinions. Doug had finally been ready to see, and Carol had known exactly what to tell him. Ultimately, nobody could be sure what would happen with Kate, but her parents had at least been able to agree to get her into some therapy as soon as possible. She was nowhere near being ready to have a conversation about this with either of her parents, but she was becoming aware of the support around her. Finally it seemed possible that she might someday harness some of her own confidence and strength in order to see through this confusion and difficulty.
As the countdown to midnight began, both in New York on the TV screen and there in the living room, and they all waited for the fireworks to erupt, Elizabeth looked up at Mark's face above her, and over at Ella, trying valiantly to stay awake on the floor, and was suddenly flooded with gratitude all over again.
THE END
