When I Was Whole (And When I Fell Apart)

5 - Cinq

        In the weeks after Elisabeth turned eighteen, a letter came in the mail.

There were several letters, actually, enough that the table was spread with opened envelopes and folded pieces of thick paper. Elisabeth never seemed satisfied with whatever was inside, her face twisting from a half-smile into a frown, before throwing them into an existing pile of past letters.

Laurence didn't understand exactly what about these letters Elisabeth found so appalling, but she wouldn't answer whenever he asked, so he decided to leave it at that. She'd tell him when she was ready, he assumed; his sister always had good reason for what she did, and he trusted her to tell him when the time was right.

That day came sooner than he thought.

It was a regular Saturday morning, the blinds opened to let in the afternoon sun, bathing their kitchen in a blanket of soft white light. Laurence was at the kitchen stove, gray smoke wafting into the air as he pressed beef patties onto a piping hot grill. Elisabeth was behind him, washing the morning's dishes as the sound of cutlery clattering against one another resounded in the air.

The comfortable silence, however, was cut short by the shrill ring of a phone, slicing through the kitchen as Laurence and Elisabeth both turned to the sudden sound. It kept ringing, loud noise growing suffocating in the small room, and it took all of Laurence's self-control to prevent himself from slamming the telephone right then and there.

There was a tense moment as she and Laurence made eye contact from across the kitchen, both challenging one another to pick it up.

"You do it," Laurence said, knowing that she wouldn't miss the pleading look in his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow as he let out a pout in response, eliciting a small chuckle. "Really?" She laughed, practically scoffing. "You can't do it yourself?"

He shook his head, unwilling to move from his place near the stove. "You know I hate phone calls."

It took a few more seconds, Laurence unrelenting as Elisabeth sent a glare his way, but they were siblings, tied together by frost-laden blue eyes and years of speaking through unsaid words. He knew his sister, in the way she crumbled at the sight of her brothers, and it felt wrong to take advantage of that now, but it was still better than answering the phone.

One more moment passed. The phone kept ringing.

Elisabeth let out a tired sigh.

"Fine," she relented at last, and Laurence flashed a grin her way. "I'll handle it."

Laurence kept his Cheshire smile, watching Elisabeth's irritated look from the sink without shame. "Thanks."

"You owe me," she groaned, wiping her soapy hands onto a dishcloth before walking over to the line and picking up the phone. "Who is it? Mhm, yeah? That's me."

Laurence should have known, in the way she tensed as she held the phone, feet frozen to the ground like ice.

"Lizzie?" Laurence asked, finally turning from the stove to look at her. "Lizzie, are you okay–"

Elisabeth suddenly raced for the living room, speechless as he watched her slam open the front door with a single push. There was a man standing there, his mundane outfit a stark contrast to Elisabeth's beaming grin as they conversed, muffled voices just barely audible in a series of exchanges that felt private even to Laurence's ears.

He should have known.

And then, a white envelope was passed from his fingers, somehow different from all the other letters still stacked atop the kitchen table.

She donned a smile Laurence hadn't seen in years, gently taking the envelope to peel open the adhesive and read what was inside. The man was long gone, a quick greeting fading into the distance as she closed the door shut behind him.

God, he should have known.

"Come here!" She shouted, her voice making him jolt.

Laurence let out a yelp, nearly burning himself on the hot skittle. Seemingly ignorant, Elisabeth kept calling for him, and so he just let out a deep sigh, killing the heat of the stove to walk over to where she was jumping up and down. The patties kept sizzling in the still-hot pan, and Laurence had to force himself to look away in favor of making eye contact with his older sister.

Her face was cracked with a wide grin, clutching the letter in her hands like a lifeline, and he wondered vaguely what could have happened to make her so happy.

"What the hell was that?" He asked, throwing his hands in the air. "What was so important that you just had to make me run over here? I was cooking burgers."

Completely ignoring the look of exasperation currently plastered onto his face, Elisabeth shoved the letter into his face, forcing him to read the words embedded in print onto the paper. "I got in!"

"In?" He scanned the paper, trying to make out what he could from so up close. "What do you mean in–"

And then it hit him all at once, a mound of bricks falling onto his shoulders as the realization dawned on him. Laurence's jaw dropped as he kept rereading the words, unable to bring himself to believe what he was seeing.

It was an acceptance letter from Stanford, her dream university across the state.

Elisabeth was ecstatic, crashing into Laurence and giving him a tight hug. Laurence choked out a quiet but audible congratulations, giving her a weary grin as he tried to breathe inside her viper-like grip.

Letting go of him, she muttered a quick hold on before rushing into Arthur's room, allowing him a moment to finally get some air into his lungs. A high-pitched squeal came soon after, and it wasn't long before Arthur also stumbled into the kitchen, flashing a toothy grin as Elisabeth hoisted him onto her shoulders and danced around the living room.

He should have known, he told himself, replaying the memory in his head, he should have known all things were temporary.