Conversations

Dal sits next to me in the waiting room, eating a packet of chips.

I'm doing my best to refrain from elbowing him in the ribs when he turns around and attempts to strike up a conversation.

"So. I heard you really made it in Jersey. Got yourself a new apartment, some new clothes, new friends. Sure knew you needed ‘em."

It brings me that much closer to the edge, but being an overly courteous, newly successful younger sister, I give him my blankest smile, and ask what he's been up to. I'm not usually one of those people who can straight out ignore a rambling person, but sleep deprivation following a red-eye flight can do that to a person.

"...and it's been three whole months. I can tell it's gonna be the thing for me." Dal says this with such conviction that for a moment, I can forget that he's said fly-fishing, face-painting, and fire-eating were all things for him. I can forget he broke things off with his ex-girlfriend only to have to beg for rent money from her. I can forget a lot of things he's done and said, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy to see him.

Dal gestures wildly with the empty package of salt-and-vinegar chips in his left hand, spewing crumbs all over the waiting room, and waves a spongy paper cup in fierce circles. What in the world is he talking about?

He knows I don't care. But he just wants to tell me he's there, because nobody's ever stayed so firm and true to my side. Not before Dal, not since. I'm not sure if that's a good thing. He's distracting me, because everyone and everything knows I sure don't want to deal with the reason I'm here.

"-and I still remember she said she loved pink, and the whole room burst out laughing. Remember that, Lily?"

"Wha...?" I'm not ready to be pushed into this conversation.

"Sorry Dal, it's just...uhm, a whole...thing to deal with and..." I finish with an incoherent mumble, and Dal's arm tightens around my shoulders.

"I mean, I know I haven't been around, but she can't just up and leave, right? That just doesn't work."

Dal murmurs something.

"What?"

"I said, sometimes things just gotta happen. And we can't do anything to change it, Lily."

"Dal, I feel so selfish, you know? And when'd you go all philosophical on me?" I blurt out rudely, interrupting the conversations going on around us.

Dal sighs, and his happy-go-lucky farce ends. He's trying to think something up, something that'll cheer me up, and make me realize that life lessons can only be learned by people who experience the world. Make me realize that he's the older one for a reason. To my surprise, he doesn't say a word. Doesn't pretend he knows what to say. I'm sure they're plenty of people who could help, plenty of things, but Dal's not going to even suggest I go seek anything or anyone out. I realize that he has faith in me to find my own way out of this. He doesn't seem to see I'm just another selfish person whose karma is so far down the drain that I could have the whole waiting room collapse on me, and still wouldn't have a clean slate.

I never expected my aunt to pass away so soon. But I know I'm being selfish. She's in her mid 70s and has had a good, long life, by any standard, and I feel like such a spoiled brat because I want her around for just a couple more years. It's a lie, too. I'd want her around forever. I'd want her to see her grandkids-wait, grand-nieces, go to college.

Dal's concerned by my silence. I can see it written all over his face, even though I've never been one for reading expressions and people's faces.

"Sorry, Dal. This isn't something where you can go back and change your answer, right? I need to make sure I'm not gonna regret this four, five, or ten years down the road. I mean, what if there's a miracle thing-you know, the ones on TV? Where the person-"

I wonder if I should've said "we", instead of "me" and "I". He's made up his mind, even if I haven't.

He turns to me, clasping a hand to mine.

"Lily."

I nod and walk into room 407 for one last look.