Peter did not think it was a good idea to jump in the car and drive three hours in order to pop in on his sister unannounced, but his parents were urging him to do so.
“Your father’s back is acting up,” his mother said, “or else we would go.”
“Mom,” Peter began in protest, but she cut him off.
“What if something has happened, Peter?” His mother had now closed the book. He would go, as uncomfortable as it made him. His sister was tougher than he – she never asked for anything and so Peter never had to give anything, which worked for him. He was not uncharitable, just timid.
His sister, Veronica, was two years younger than him, but he always thought of her as older. That’s because she was usually the first to do things: buy her own car, move away, get married, etc…Peter thought of himself as a late bloomer, or at least, a later bloomer because he had done all the same things as his sister, just not before she did.
His wife set his coffee down on the table. “Do you want me to go with you?” she asked, blowing into her cup.
“Thank you,” he said, reaching for his coffee, “but I don’t even know what’s going on. For all they know Veronica could just have a cold or not feel like talking.” But he knew that wasn’t true. He knew as he said it that something was wrong in Veronica’s life and he was scared to imagine what it was.
“Still,” his wife said, “maybe I should follow you out there.”
He looked over at her. She was smart and careful and thoughtful and that was why he loved her.
“Okay,” he said, “let’s do that then.”
They finished their coffee in silence. Caroline rinsed the cups and put them in the dishwasher.
“Alright,” Peter said to her, signaling that he was ready to leave. They each grabbed their keys and put on their respective jackets. Caroline kissed him lightly on the mouth before they got into their cars. He waited for her to back out then followed behind her. Caroline could navigate like a bird. Peter trusted her to get them places whenever they traveled together. He imagined her brain was shaded and lined like a map. For a while when they were first married he called her Atlas, but she didn’t like it so he’d had to stop. About two hours into the trip, Caroline texted and asked him if he had let his sister know that he was coming. He had not. He then asked Caroline if she thought that he should. ‘I honestly don’t know’ was her reply. He decided not to.
When they made it to the town where Veronica lived, Caroline pulled over.
“Right,” she said as he pulled alongside her. “I will grab lunch in that café while you go to Veronica’s. Let me know when you get there.”
He nodded and got back onto the road. Normally, Caroline would come with him to his sister’s – she and Veronica got along very well and considered each other sister’s – but this was…what was this? Peter felt scared. Did he think Veronica was dead? No, he didn’t. Had there been an accident? He didn’t know, but he hated this feeling, this dread. Once, when he was six, his father had gone to the store during a blizzard because he needed medication for Peter’s ear (Peter was one of those children who had had near constant ear infections as a child) and he was gone for almost two hours. He remembered his mother staring out the window, waiting. Peter and Veronica watched their mother wait. And Peter remembered the sense of fear he had experienced knowing that someone you loved could walk out the front door and never come back. When his father did walk in the door, knocking snow off his hat and boots, the family nearly erupted in cheers. Peter remembered his father hugging his wife and kissing her forehead, a gesture which instantly made him feel secure again. The pharmacist, Peter’s father explained, had gotten to the store very late due to the weather and that’s why it took him so long to get home. Then, from his coat pocket, his father produced candy bars for both Peter and Veronica, and their parents let them eat them on the spot, something which never happened. Peter smiled faintly at the memory.
He turned his car onto the street where his sister lived with her husband. He could see her car parked in the driveway. Peter took a deep breath and pulled up along the curb. He got out of his car and walked up to the front door. He had his own key, but he rang the bell anyway. He stood and waited. He counted to twenty and rang the bell again. He heard his sister shout, “Just use your key.” So Peter let himself in.
“Veronica,” he called. She strolled out in her bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head. “You know I’m here,” she said. She looked at him. “Did mom send you?” she asked.
“Mom and dad,” he said.
“Jeez,” she said, and began walking toward the kitchen. “Where’s Caroline?”
“At the café,” Peter replied.
Veronica filled a kettle with water and put it on the stove. “Why?” she smirked, “did you guys think I was dead or something?”
Veronica’s smirk annoyed Peter.
“We were concerned,” he said.
“Yeah,” Veronica said, softening. “I know.”
“So?” Peter said.
Veronica poured water for tea once the kettle whistled and gave him a mug. They sat down at her kitchen table. “Rick and I are splitting up,” she said. She was matter of fact about it, not sad. Peter said nothing. He liked Rick well enough, but he wouldn’t feel like he was losing a brother or anything.
“I had an affair,” Veronica said. Peter looked up at her. “I know, I know,” she said, blowing on her tea. “It was stupid. It was a way for me to get out.”
Peter felt bewildered. “Why not just leave,” he asked.
“Marriage isn’t like that and you know it,” Veronica said sternly.
He shook his head. “I have to call Caroline,” he said.
“Tell her to come,” Veronica said. “I mean, why wouldn’t she?”
Peter called Caroline from Veronica’s bathroom. He wanted privacy from his sister.
“Everything is alright,” he told his wife. “She and Rick have split up. She had an affair or something.”
“Oh,” Caroline said.
About fifteen minutes later she pulled into Veronica’s driveway. Peter let her into the house and kissed her. She squeezed his hand.
“Where’s Rick then?” she asked Veronica, after they had made their way into the kitchen.
“He’s at a friend’s,” Veronica said. “He wanted to try and work things out, but…” She trailed off.
“You don’t want to?” Caroline asked. Peter suddenly didn’t know what to do with himself, but Caroline still had his hand.
“No, Veronica said firmly. She stood up and leaned against the counter by her sink. “Maybe I will regret it, but I just don’t want to be married anymore.”
“You should call mom and dad,” Peter said. Veronica groaned.
“Better to get it over with,” Caroline said. Peter handed his sister his phone. He and Caroline went into the living room and turned on the TV. Caroline sat next to him and put her head on his shoulder. He kissed her hair. They heard Veronica mumbling in the kitchen. Peter looked at his wife.
“Do you ever not want to be married anymore?” he asked her.
“Never,” she said, and turned the TV up in order to drown out the sound of Veronica’s voice.