"It's up to me. I know. She's always saying things are up to me-- as if I really had any control of anything," he complained.
"You do when it comes to our relationship." He stared and then smiled.
"What's your real name?"
"That's my name."
"Rose? That's on your birth certificate?" "Yes."
"What were they going to call the next child. Daffodil?"
"Very funny," I said. "Look. I'm hungry. There's a nice lunch out there. Do you want to have some lunch with me and talk sensibly, or do you want to shut yourself up in here and try to make us feel terrible. too?"
"That's a tough one," he said. He looked back at his computer. "I may have to go on a search engine to find the answer."
"Yes, well when you do, come on out and join me," I said and started to turn away.
"Okay," he said.
"Okay?"
"Okay, I'm coming, Lead the way. Rose."
"I'm glad my name amuses you," I said and we started down the hallway, him wheeling himself alongside me. "I can push you, if you like." I said.
"Thanks, but this is all the exercise I'm getting today. My therapist isn't coming today."
"What were you doing on the computer? Who were you talking to?"
"I was in a chat room with other shut-ins. I created the club. It's called Invalids Anonymous. We compare notes and depress each other."
"Doesn't sound like fun."
"We just got started. We'll find a way to have fun yet."
We reached the patio doors. Charlotte looked up. She and Mommy were seated at a table, talking and eating. "Well, isn't this nice," she said.
"Yes," Evan said. -'one big happy family."
He looked up at me with a half smile on his face, waiting for my reaction. In that split second. I saw the pain and the loneliness as well as the impishness in his eyes. He wasn't just crippled with a bone deformity. He was all twisted emotionally, full of anger and self-pity.
And yet I thought he was actually a very goodlooking boy. He had the best of Daddy's features and his mother's. If some sparks of joy could light some happiness in those eyes, he would be very attractive, I concluded.
He seemed to be challenging me with his recalcitrant stare, daring me to do something that would help him, daring me to really be his sister, to be sincere and care about him. He looked like he expected me to flee, to turn away in disgust, but I didn't.
I smiled at him.
"This is my mother, Monica," I said. "She and my father named me Rose."
His eyes softened and filled with some humor. "Hello, Evan," Mommy said.
He said hello politely.
"Can I get you a plate of food. Evan?" Charlotte asked him.
"No," he said sharply. He looked up at me. "I'd rather have Rose do it. By any other name, she'd smell as sweet."
Okay I thought. I'll play, too.