He still knocked on the door, even though he was always expected. The fact that no one answered did not surprise. He knocked again, a little louder. He shifted the blooming azalea around in the crook of his arm, adjusting his grip.
The door opened just a crack and flew open wide. Polly Templeton stepped out and threw her arm around his neck.
“Oh, my little brother!” she exclaimed. “What a wonderful surprise.”
“You look radiant,” he told her.
Polly’s smile withered. “You don’t need to humor me, Peter. I know I’m looking pretty wan. And let’s face it. I’m bald.”
“But it’s a lovely turban you have–”
“Fiddle-dee-dee. I look like Norma Desmond in detox.”
Peter changed the subject by thrusting the azalea towards his sister.
“Gorgeous,” she said, taking the flowers in hand. “I see you were smart enough to buy them already blossomed. You knew there was no time to spare.”
“I just picked the cheapest one.”
Polly loosed a rousing laugh and hugged Peter with one arm. “That’s my boy. Come in and join me for a cup of hemlock.”
Peter trailed his sister into the kitchen where she stashed the flowerpot on the counter and poked about in the cupboards. He settled himself on a stool on the other side of the breakfast bar and watched as she brought out the cups, twirling them about their handles.
“You seem in good spirits,” Peter commented.
“You like herbal tea? I’ve forgotten.”
“I’ll have what you’re having.”
“Steamed self-pity?”
“How’s Lyn doing?”
Polly dug through her tea stash in silence.
“Taking it hard, I guess?” Peter said.
“Stoic and heroic. I hardly have any idea that he notices my condition.” Polly filled the cups with water.
“You want him to be more upset, perhaps?” Peter said.
Polly chose a tea and removed two bags. “It would be nice to hear him say…something. I don’t exactly know what, except that I’ll know it when I hear it.” She plunked the bags into the cups and loaded them into the microwave.
“How about ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do without you’? I’m losing my…” his voice cracked as he started back up.”—my big sister.”
Polly took Peter’s hand in hers and kissed it. “On second thought, maybe Lyndsey is doing me a favor. I can’t bear to hear that kind of talk.”
