Comfort & Joy

White hot wonder suffuses me; with it, I can see how cold and empty I was before. “You see it,” I say. “It’s really there. ”

“It’s an arrowhead, I think. What does it mean?”

“It means I’m going north. ”

“I don’t understand. ”

“Neither do I, but I’m using my plane ticket. ”

That stops her. “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. ”

I see how her face creases at that, how her eyes fill with fear and worry. It’s the crash. Like me, she’ll battle those memories for a long time. “It won’t happen again,” I say gently.

r /> “I’m going with you. ”

I touch her arm. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think I need to do it just like I did before. Alone. Looking for hope. ”

“I’m driving you to the airport, then. Don’t even think about arguing with me about it. ” She runs past me and goes upstairs. I can hear her moving down the hallway overhead. I return to the living room, where Thom is waiting. We stare at each other.

“Take good care of her,” I say at last. “She really loves you. ”

“I love her, too, Joy. ” I hear the throatiness in his voice and know he means it.

I feel a pinch at that, a phantom pain, but it’s gone quickly. “Good. ”

A few minutes later, Stacey reappears. Grabbing her keys from the copper bowl on the entry table, she kisses Thom good-bye, then leads the way to the garage. While she’s starting the van, I get my purse and the ticket. Then I climb into the passenger seat and slam the door shut.

My sister looks at me. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely. ”

“Okay, then. We’re off. ”

Thirty-five minutes later, we are at the airport. We pull up to the curb and park, then get out of the minivan.

On the sidewalk, she pulls me into her arms and holds me so fiercely I can hardly breathe. “Don’t you vanish on me. ”

“I’ll call you when I get there,” I promise.

“Wherever there is. ” Stacey draws back. “I’m afraid I’ll never see you again. ”

“How can I disappear? I have a wedding to go to in June. ”

Stacey draws in a sharp breath. “You’ll come?”

“We’re sisters,” I say simply.

I can see the impact of my words. Stacey smiles, but its watery and weak. “I love you, Joy. ”

And I know then: no matter what I find or don’t find in Washington State, I will always have a place where I belong. It has taken us a long time, but Stacey and I have finally returned to the beginning. We’re sisters again, two little girls in the back of a hot VW bus, experiencing our lives through each other, holding hands when we’re scared.

“I love you, too, Stace. ”

It takes almost forty minutes to get to my gate, and then another twenty minutes before they call my flight.

I get in to line.