House Broken Read Online Free Page B

good daughter! I’m here, aren’t I? She told herself not to be pathetic. “How are you feeling? You were sleeping so heavily.”
    â€œI don’t do anything but sleep.” The nurse picked up Helen’s wrist, silently counted pulses, then moved to the end of the bed and picked up the chart. Helen looked Geneva in the eye. “Every time I wake up I pray I’m not here anymore.”
    The ambiguity of the statement hung in the air between them.
    The nurse handed Helen her pills, ensured she had swallowed, then wrote the time in the log. “A few more days, Mrs. Riley. Then you can go home.”
    Geneva reminded herself to talk with Dublin about home care assistance after Helen’s release. It might be a while before she could get around.
    â€œWho brought those dahlias?”
    â€œI did, Mom.”
    â€œThey’re my favorite.”
    â€œI know.”
    The nurse asked Helen about headaches and the level of pain in her shoulder and leg.
    â€œIt’s tolerable, but I don’t much care for that medication you’ve been giving me. Makes me feel I’m floating along like a bunch of balloons in a breeze. Why can’t I choose my own medication? It’s a free country, isn’t it?”
    â€œMrs. Riley, we’ve gone over this . . .”
    â€œI know, I know. Hospital policy. Too much policy and too little sense, if you ask me. It’s only a drink, for Pete’s sake.” She turned to her daughter with a look that said this would be an appropriate moment for Geneva to speak up and demonstrate her solidarity. Geneva’s face was noncommittal, so Helen changed direction. “Have you seen Dublin? Do you know when he’s coming?”
    Geneva was used to this question, and the anxious tone accompanying it. Her mother was always searching for one of herchildren. It started when Paris was fifteen. Geneva, at nine, would walk into the house, and her mother would be standing at the window, hands nervously flattening the front of her skirt. Her first question was always “Have you seen Paris?” Geneva didn’t understand her concern because Paris wasn’t ever hard to find. If she wasn’t at the school library or the one in town, she was at the mayor’s office with their father. For as long as Geneva could remember, Paris wanted to follow in their father’s footsteps and become a lawyer. She applied herself at school with remarkable dedication, determined to be the top of her class as Eustace had been. After she graduated, she secured an internship at the State House in Columbia, and moved there. Several months later their father died, and after the initial shock wore off, Helen began asking Dublin and Geneva if they’d seen Florence, the next eldest. Didn’t her basketball game end an hour ago? Why isn’t she back from her friend’s house? Then Florence graduated and left to play college basketball at Chapel Hill. She was too busy to return home often, so Helen shifted her focus to Dublin. When Geneva started high school, she began to wonder if she would finally become visible to her mother only after she left her behind. It never happened.
    â€œHe should be here soon, Mom. It’s rush hour, so it’s hard to say exactly when.”
    Ten minutes of stilted small talk later, her brother blew into the room like a dust devil, wearing the same leather jacket he’d had since college, his brown hair rumpled as if he had been roused from a nap. His smile was tense at the corners. He flung his arms wide, and Geneva sank into his bear hug. They were the exact same height. Bookends, Helen had called them.
    â€œIt’s good to see you,” she said.
    â€œYou, too, Ginny.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and appraised her. “You look like hell. Good hell. Hell that’s keeping up appearances. But still hell.”
    â€œThanks.”
    â€œThat’s enough cursing,