“So much pressure.” Callie stood back up. “All it proves is that you can make any words come out of your mouth.”
He laughed again. “That’s very true.”
Leigh tried, “Cal—”
“Walter, I gotta say, I love the whole idea of this.” She had moved on to the bookcases Walter had built from cement blocks and slabs of wood. “Very masculine, but it works with the overall style of the room.”
Walter bobbed his eyebrows at Leigh, as if Callie didn’t know that Leigh despised the bookcase.
“Look at this amazing gewgaw.” Callie shook the snow globe they’d bought at a roadside stand on the drive to Petoskey. She couldn’t tilt her head down, so she brought it to her eyes to watch the tumult inside. “Is that real snow, Walter?”
He smiled. “I believe it is.”
“God damn, you guys—I don’t even understand the fancy-ass world you live in. Next you’ll tell me you keep all your perishables in a refrigerated box.”
Leigh watched her sister tromp around the room, picking up books and souvenirs Walter and Leigh had collected on the scant few vacations they could afford because fifteen thousand dollars was a lot to blow on someone who was going to spend one day in rehab.
“Hello?” Callie called into the mouth of an empty flower vase.
Leigh felt her jaw clench. She hated herself for feeling like the perfect little space that only she and Walter had ever shared was being ruined by her obnoxious, junkie sister.
The wasted fifteen grand wasn’t the only money Callie had effectively set on fire. Over the last six years, Leigh had flown back to Atlanta half a dozen times to help her sister. Renting motel rooms for Callie to detox in. Physically sitting on her to keep her from running out the door. Rushing her to the emergency room because a needle had broken off in her arm and the infection had nearly killed her. Multiple doctor’s appointments. An HIV scare. A Hep C scare. Mind-numbing mountains of paperwork for bail to be processed, commissary accounts to be funded, calling cards to be activated. Waiting—constantly waiting—for a knock on the door, a cop with his hat in his hands, a trip to the morgue, the sight of her sister’s pale, wasted body on a slab because she loved heroin more than she loved herself.
“Sooooo,” Callie drew out the word. “I know this is going to come as a shock to both of you, but I’m between places right now, and—”
“Right now?” Leigh exploded. “God dammit, Callie. The last time I saw you, I was bailing you out of jail for crashing a car. Did you skip bail? Did you show up at your hearing? There could be a warrant out for—”
“Whoa there, sister,” Callie said. “Let’s not crank up the crazy.”
Leigh could’ ve slapped her. “Don’t you ever talk to me the way you talk to Phil.”
Callie held up her hands, taking a step back, then another.
Leigh crossed her arms so she didn’t strangle her. “How long have you been in Chicago?”
“I got here yesterweek,” Callie said. “Or was it lasterday?”
“Callie.”
“Walter,” Callie turned away from Leigh. “I hope I’m not being rude when I say this, but you seem like an excellent provider.”
Walter’s eyebrows went up. Technically, Leigh made more than him.
Callie said, “You have provided my sister with an awesome home. And I see by that ring on her finger that you’ve decided to make her an honest woman. Or as honest as she can be. Nonetheless, and what I’m saying is, I’m very happy for you both, and congratulations.”
“Callie.” If Leigh had a dollar for every time she’d said her sister’s name in the last ten minutes, she could pay herself back for rehab. “We need to talk.”
Callie pivoted back around. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Leigh said. “Would you stop acting like a goddam ostrich and get your head out of your ass?”
Callie gasped. “Are you comparing me to a murder dinosaur?”
Walter laughed.
“Walter.” Leigh knew she sounded like a harpy. “Don’t laugh at her. It’s not funny.”
“It’s not funny, Walter.” Callie turned her body back toward Walter.
Leigh still found the robotic movements jarring. When she thought of her sister, she thought of the athlete, not the girl whose neck had been broken and fused back together. And certainly not the junkie who was standing in front of the man Leigh desperately wanted to create a new, boring, normal life with.