Callie's Sister

Chapter 25

At dinner that night we actually sat together at the kitchen table. I had fears of my mother wheeling Callie's bed in so she could join us or of Mom moving the kitchen table to Callie's room so she could be "a part of the conversation," but luckily none of that happened.

My fantasies of a home cooked meal were fruitless, but we did get a chicken dinner from the local takeout place so you could kind of pretend it was a home cooked meal.

"Callie had a great day," my mother said brightly. My father was chewing his food and not saying much. Dad could get caught up in his work and there were many times where it appeared he was at the dinner table with us when in reality his brain was back at his lab or at his computer trying to figure something out for his research or longing for one of his medical journals. My father, the esteemed Dr. Charles P. Knowles, was a big scientist at Martin Pharmaceuticals. He had a PhD in biology and worked all day and most nights to find a cure for diabetes. So while it seemed like he was dining with us, he was really trying to sort out the mysteries of insulin production and things like that.

"I'm going to go to the Halloween Dance with Jess and Lara," I said.

"Callie loved that dance," my mother said.

And we were back to Callie again.

I wasn't in the mood to hear the entire history of Halloween costumes Callie had worn over the years so I dropped it. I finished my meal in silence, slid my chair back and took my plate to the sink.

"You're going to read to her tonight, right?" my mother asked. I took a deep breath.

"I've got tons of homework, Mom," I protested.

"Maddie, we can't drop the ball on this," she said. "I gave in to you not coming to the rehab facility, but I need you now."

"You gave in to me?" I said. "You didn't speak to me for the entire time."

"I'm not going to get into this again with you. We all need to pitch in. Surely you can give her an hour."

How about I trade you? I'll read to Callie if you'll take me clothes shopping. Or spend five minutes with me not talking about Callie?

Okay, scream, yell and protest or go along? Going along took far less energy so I opted for number two.

"No problem, Mom," I said. "Whatever Callie needs." Did she notice this was becoming my refrain? And that I said it, but didn't really mean it?

"Thanks, Maddie!" Mom said. "Go do some work and then come down around 8:30. Sound good?" Oh yeah, sounds terrific. And then we'll go to the mall, right? Do something for me?

At 8:29 I was halfway paying attention to my Social Studies homework. We were learning about the branches of government and it wasn't complicated, but it was a lot to memorize. My books were spread out all over my bed and I was juggling index cards, trying to take notes on them but keep them in categories: Judicial, Executive and Legislative. I had come to the conclusion over the years that my study skills were not particularly effective. The amount of time I spent reviewing the material was never reflected in my test grades. My mother found some articles on study habits a few years ago and tried to impart the ideas to me, but nothing seemed to work. She even got the PTA to sponsor a study habit workshop. Still nothing. Luckily I could use homework grades, projects and general sucking up to bring my grades closer to the A's and B's that were expected.

You would think Callie, whose grades were so good she was going to be Salutatorian, could have helped me, but she was the kind of person who knew things, but couldn't tell you why she knew them. She read the material and it stuck. Creepy to think she spent all that time filling her brain with information and now it was all gone. Did it disappear or was it in there and impossible for her to get to? Could we bring her back, as my mother seemed to believe?

I grabbed my Social Studies book and went downstairs. Callie was getting a history lesson tonight.