Irises (27 page)

Aunt Julia took a step back, a shocked expression on her face. “Don't talk to me that way. I'm here to help you and you talk to me that way? I don't have to be here, you know.”

“I'm sorry. I'm very tired.” Kate reached out to touch Aunt Julia's hand.

“All I wanted to know was where you were. We were worried.” Aunt Julia's voice quivered and her right eye twitched. She seemed suddenly very old and fragile.

“I'm sorry,” Kate said again. “I'm tired. You saw the letter?”

“Yes.”

“I was upset, that's all. I went out. I . . . I really need to go to the bathroom.”

“Kate.” Aunt Julia sat down. It didn't look like her shaking legs would hold her up. “I talked to Mary this morning. I don't think I can stay here any longer. I need to go back home. There are . . . things I need to do.”

“Oh?” Kate said. At that moment, there was nothing anyone could say that could make her feel worse.

“I was going to leave at the end of the week.”

“Whenever you think is right.” She saw Aunt Julia's eyes redden. “Thank you for coming.”

She walked into the bathroom, closed the door, and began to fill the tub with hot water. This state she was in, she was not going to let it last long. She would go out after the bath and hug Aunt Julia and apologize for her bad mood, and then she would go about trying to make things right for Mary. She undressed and eased herself into the cleansing water.

After her bath, she slipped into her blue terry-cloth bathrobe. It sounded like Aunt Julia was doing something with her things, like she was packing. Kate had a choice when she left the bathroom: to turn right and talk to Aunt Julia or turn left to her room. She turned left. It would be better to talk to Aunt Julia when she was dressed. She sat on the bed and then she lay down on it. She needed to close her eyes for just one minute. Only one minute to subdue the anger and sadness and whatever else was in there.

She woke up three hours later.

 

H
i,” Mary said when Kate opened her eyes. “Are you all right?” She was sitting on the edge of Kate's bed.

“Yes.” Kate shook her head slightly. “Sorry to make you worry.”

“I'm just glad you're okay.”

Kate sat up on the bed and propped a pillow behind her back. Mary waited for her to speak. “I had a terrible night. First Simon and I broke up, and then I read the insurance letter. I . . . needed to go out,” Kate said without looking a
t Mary
.

“I told people that you probably stayed with Stephanie,” Mary said.

“How's Aunt Julia doing?” Kate asked, changing the subject.

Mary bit her lips. “Aunt Julia left.”

“She
left
?”

“She wrote a letter.”

“What did she say?”

“She was leaving because she needed to get back to work. She said she would send us a little money now and then and come visit us as often as she could. She didn't write down the real reason.”

“What's that?”

“She's very ill, Kate. She has cancer. She needed to go back to start the chemo treatments.”

“She has what?”

“Breast cancer, I think she said.”

“Oh, God!”

“It explains a lot,” Mary said.

“Why didn't she tell us?”

“She didn't want to worry us with one more thing. She said she had trouble accepting it. Kate, I think that's why she didn't want to sleep in Mama's room. Mama reminded her that she was ill.”

“And all along I thought she was just mean.”

They were quiet. Mary was aware they were both silently asking the same question:
What are we going to do?
The question had plagued them since the first night Father died, only now it was louder and seemed to have fewer answers.

“There's still hope,” Mary said. “Renata's mother talked to a social worker who said there are programs to help us. Maybe we can get someone to come in and watch Mama while we're in school.”

“We'll work it out,” Kate said. She seemed distracted.

“Kate, we can't do it alone.” Mary could feel a newfound strength in her voice. “I think we should talk to the social worker.”

“We need to figure out this week first.”

“I already called Talita and Mrs. Guerney. Talita can come a couple of extra hours in the morning, and Mrs. Guerney can stay with Mama until I get home from school.”

Kate tilted the alarm clock next to her bed. She didn't look to Mary like the usual focused Kate. The Kate in front of her seemed disoriented, like she had woken up from a long dream she could not shake off.

“I called the insurance company,” Mary continued. “The lady who answered told me we could appeal the decision. She said we could write and ask them to explain their reasons for not giving us the insurance. We should write to them, Kate. Maybe they got it wrong. Papa made all those payments all those years. It just doesn't seem fair.”

“You called them?” Kate seemed surprised at Mary's initiative.

“We can even go talk to them in person. They're right on Mesa Street. We can take the morning off from school tomorrow and go together.”

Kate shook her head. “We'd be wasting our time. The medical records showed Father had a congenital heart defect. That means he had it since birth.”

“But what if Papa never knew about it? If he didn't know about it, he didn't lie to the insurance company.”

“Think about it. How could that be? All those years of going to the doctor. And why was he rejected by the army when he was young? He never told us.”

“You make it sound as if he lied to us too.”

“He knew, Mary. The heart condition was noted in Father's records. How many years had Dr. Rulfo been seeing Father? Can you imagine Dr. Rulfo not telling him? Father went out and found a rinky-dink insurance company that didn't require a medical exam, and he bought a policy. Or maybe he got Dr. Rulfo to say there was nothing wrong with him. You know what great friends they were. What was Father thinking? Didn't he think the insurance company would check before they paid? He wasted all that money on insurance premiums that we could have used for other things.”

“We should at least get the medical records from Dr. Ru
lfo.
Suppose they show that Papa and Dr. Rulfo discover
ed the
genital condition after Papa bought the insurance policy.”

“Genital?” Kate laughed and then Mary followed. For a few moments they were two sisters again, laughing together. Then Kate stopped laughing.

“I don't know if there's anything more we can do.”

Mary looked at Kate. “Why are you giving up so easily?”

“Mary, he didn't tell the truth when he filled out the application.”

“We should take a look at the application. Suppose the insurance company is lying just so they don't have to pay.”

“Okay, we'll write to them or go to their office on Mesa Street and talk to them,” Kate said. She sounded exhausted. She started to lift herself out of the bed again, but Mary wasn't budging.

“What's going on with you anyway? Tell me. Are you worried about not going to Stanford?”

Kate looked as if she wanted to tell Mary something and then changed her mind. “I'm not worried,” she said, looking away.

“You haven't given up on it, have you? When do you have to let them know?”

“May first.”

“So there's still time. Maybe we can still convince Aunt Julia to let Mama and me live with her. It would be perfect, wouldn't it? You could go to Stanford and we would be close by. Aunt Julia needs us and we need her. Maybe when she's had time to think, she'll change her mind.”

“You asked if you and Mother could go live with her?”

“She said no. But I made her promise that she would think about it. I don't think it was an it's-out-of-the-question no.”

“You shouldn't have asked her.”

“Why?”

“It's an incredible burden to ask of someone, especially someone with cancer. To take Mother on? And what about you? You'd be taking care of Mama and Aunt Julia both. You need to start thinking about yourself.” Kate's eyes lingered on Mary. “We all need to start thinking about you.”

“But Mama is her sister. Mama is her family. We're her family. People in a family carry burdens for each other. Besides, Mama's not much of a bother.”

“Well, I'm glad she said no, for your sake. It would be too much for you.”

“We need to find a place for me and Mama to stay so you can go to Stanford. They won't let me live alone with Mama.”

“Who won't let you?”

“Social Services, I don't know who else. I'm underage. I
don't know how it all works. That's why we need to talk to that
social worker. Can we do that? Promise me we'll do that?”

“Mary, we need to talk. But not now. I want to make sure that what I say to you comes out right. Let me get up and get dressed.”

Mary didn't move. “Kate.” There was a pause. “I know who you were with last night. I went looking for you this morning. I saw Papa's keys were missing from his desk, so I thought you might have gone to church to
.
.
. pray. I found the keys in his
.
.
. in Reverend Soto's office.” Kate stared at her as if waiting for Mary to get it all out. “I know it's none of my business, but
.
.
.”

“Mary, don't. There's no need to bring this up right now.” Kate's voice was almost a whisper.

“I care about you. I'm your sister.”

“I know. But I'm all right. There's nothing really to talk about. Nothing happened.”

“I don't think it's right for you to go out with him.”

“I'm not going out with him. Trust me.”

“I trust you, but
.
.
.”

“Mary, thanks for telling me how you feel. I don't think you need to worry about it.” There was exhaustion in Kate's voice.

“I'm your sister. I wouldn't be a good sister if I didn't tell you what I thought.”

“I know, I know. I don't know what's come over me lately, but I'm all right now. I haven't been a good sister to you. I know. I promise you that's going to change. But now I have to get up. There are some things I need to do.”

Later that afternoon, Mary was lying next to Mama, listening to Mexican soap operas on the radio. Kate was out in the hall making a telephone call. She heard the word
postpone
and she understood that Kate was calling the Stanford admissions office to postpone the deadline for accepting their offer. Mary saw the call as a good sign. It meant that Kate had not given up on her dream.

The next day, Renata persuaded her brother Jaime to dr
ive them downtown to
see the social worker. Jaime seemed happy to take them, probably because he was skipping sch
ool.
Mary didn't want to get Renata into trouble, but she needed her help and she had no one else. Kate had said sh
e had
something else to do that day.

Jaime drove a truck that had an extended cab with cramped foldout seats. He insisted the girls sit back there. He was a big senior on campus, the star football player, and he didn't want anyone to see him with two insignificant sophomores. As they squashed next to each other with their knees to their chests, Renata wanted to talk about Kate.

“I still can't believe it about Stanford,” Renata said. “She can attend UTEP right here, and she's making you do all this because she wants to go
away
? And you
want
her to go?”

The radio was so loud Mary could hardly hear Renata. She shouted, “I keep thinking of what it would be like for me if I couldn't paint. Going to Stanford is like that for Kate.”