Madly (New York 2)

The water ran, the bathroom filling with steam.

“I missed you, too.”

“It’s been kind of an epic year. I think I felt like, after Matt, and with you gone, I had to handle it all by myself. Like you were always the one who kept the family together but now I had to be you, only I didn’t know how to do that.”

“I never kept the family together.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to see that. Like, you had your family, and I had my family, and Mom has her family, and Dad has his, and none of them are exactly the same family. Ben told me this thing about bees—”

“The thing about bees and the bank?”

“Yeah, he’s said that to you?”

“He tells me some version of that story every few weeks.”

“So you know about everything coming apart, and coming back together again. I think I felt like after you left, things were maybe coming apart, and I had to keep them from coming apart. But now I feel like we’ve come all the way apart, or most of the way. Which is a relief, actually.”

The water hit the floor of the shower in loud splashes. May washing her hair. “I knew things weren’t right with Matt,” she said. “But you only ever wanted to tell me how great he is. And, dude, he is not that great.”

“Yeah. I had a big throw-down with him last night.”

“Yeah?”

“I called him and told him he needed boundaries, and to quit acting like he was part of my family and part of my life, because he’s not anymore.”

“Da-a-ng. I wish you had recorded that. When I am finished being mad at you, I would really like some kind of reenactment. I’m pretty sure no one has told Matt no since preschool. Maybe not even then.”

A soft thud and more splashing. May was always dropping the soap.

“I told him I want the dogs back.”

“Good for you.”

“I’m going to start telling you what’s going on with me.”

“I’d like that.”

“And you have to tell me what’s going on with you, too. Like, seriously tell me, including how much money you need, because that’s the one thing I could actually do for you, easy, and you know it. I mean, how many days has Ben got left at that restaurant before he’s going to have to close? The wait staff is a skeleton crew. He’s got a four-star rating on Yelp, and everybody says the same thing—‘Fantastic food, but the service is slow.’ That tells me it’s only a matter of time before he cuts breakfast service completely. He’s probably already dropping things off the menu.”

The water ran. Across from the toilet, Allie’s face was reflected in the bathroom mirror, but only in the bottom quarter where the mirror had a beveled border, distorting her reflection.

She recognized herself, though.

She knew who she was, and how it felt to talk to her sister in a bathroom with the water running, and what she wanted to happen next.

“You know I’ve got the restaurant in my building, right, but did you know I’m an investor? I’ve got a piece of two other restaurants. I’ve got tenants who are creatives, like you, too. I mean, I’m renting out gallery space to this woman who does the most incredible cow paintings, and I’m giving it to her for a pittance and pretending not to notice when she misses rent because her foot traffic sucks but her paintings are good, May. Your stuff is great. You should have a studio, not be sitting around here all the time working by the window in the bedroom and constantly having to chase pencils you dropped out from under the radiators. You’re going to have to tell me stuff. Let me help.”

The water cut off. Allie pushed a folded towel through the gap in the curtain, and after a minute her sister emerged, pink and wet and clean. “I can do that,” May said. “I mean, let me think about the money stuff, but I can tell you all about it. Give me another towel for my hair.”

Allie did, and May twisted it around her head. She looked so much easier now. Tired, but more like herself.

“It’s all I wanted, you know,” she said. “To tell you.”

Allie smiled. “I’m glad.” She took a deep breath. “So you know I met a guy. Winston. I should tell you I’ve been staying with him. He’s really nice.”

“Matt nice?”

“Jesus. No, not like Matt. He’s from London, and he’s divorced. He has a daughter at NYU.”