Chapter Three: September
Laurie doesn't understand it.
Why is her mother so excited?
She assumes, at first, that it's all a ploy. Edith Myers has always been sensitive to the well-being of her family and if the overall mood has a general inclination which upsets her mother, she tends to swing the other way, acting buoyantly to demolish negative emotions. Her mother lives a lie and fights tooth and nail to keep it that way.
But, on the drive here, the woman cries behind the steering wheel with no amount of sorrow. Every bit of joy is seen in her broken, trembling smile, while Laurie fears for her safety in the passenger seat of the car.
Perhaps, her mother's behavior is not so unusual. After all, she finally will see her son. After all, it has been years.
As they wait in the common room, Laurie's skin prickles with goosebumps under her thin white blouse. She unrolls the sleeves which were rolled to her elbows. Though summer was near concluding, it was still uncomfortably hot outside. Here, it was uncomfortably cold.
A patient escorted by a nurse skulks past in the thin hospital tunic, glaring at Laurie and then her mother who was signing papers at the front desk. Besides the dirty look, he doesn't say a word and loses interest in them entirely.
Laurie feels out of place. She is a stranger in this building filled with strangers, though she may have just been the most normal person here.
Behind her, she hears a hiss of the double doors opening. Her mother makes a small sound of surprise then releases elated utterances which makes Laurie's stomach quiver with unease.
Her feet move in a circle and stop.
"Oh Laurie!" Her mother exclaims. "Come, come, come quick!"
An impatient hand gesture pulls Laurie closer, but not too close. It might be that she's a teenager and everything is awkward at her age, but Laurie can't help her discomfort from keeping her away from her brother.
With an irritated sigh, her mother grabs Laurie's shoulder and her mouth draws close to Laurie's ear and whispers.
"Show your brother how much you've missed him."
Her feet are lead, but her mother has surprising strength as she pulls Laurie. Once a few steps away, she gives Laurie a firm push in which she shuffles forward.
Laurie's breath hitches as she sees him, the closest she's ever seen him.
"What do we do, Laurie?" Her mother asks lightly, but there is an odd forcefulness in the lilt of her question.
Laurie swallows and she does a poor job of concealing the sound. She is certain her brother hears it, but he gives no indication. He only looks at her. Straight at her.
As she steps in, Laurie notes his eyes are black. Endlessly black. Not even the graces of the sun could think to penetrate it.
Afraid her mother might act or say something inappropriate to embarrass her, Laurie leans forward and her arms move around his broad shoulders as though her joints were rusted metal hinges. Their height difference forces Laurie to her tiptoes. It's too late for her to think against it, when her lips ghost over the smooth slope of his cheek which smells heavily of antiseptic.
As she pulls back, Michael's face has not changed. He is still jarringly impassive and he still stares at her.
As her mother fawns over her children, Laurie finds she is mistaken.
Her brother is looking through her.