Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
She didn’t cry for long. It was like one of those thunderstorms that come in a roar, drench the landscape in water, then vanish without a trace. Wiping her face in the aftermath, Darcie began to breathe deep and even. “I don’t want anyone else to know that I’ve been crying.”
“Sure, I get that.” I picked an orange off a low-hanging branch. “These are nice and cold. If you close your eyes, then put oranges on them, it’ll probably make sure they don’t puff up.”
Darcie took the orange from me, paused for a second, then began to laugh. It held a slight edge of hysteria. “Can you imagine one of the others coming here and seeing me sitting holding two oranges to my eyes?”
I decided to help her pretend everything was all right, that she hadn’t just cried hard enough that her throat was rough with it. “Hey, I was trying to help.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” But she put the cold oranges to her closed eyes. “I promised myself I’d take Bea’s secret to the grave. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Of course I won’t.” I continued to struggle to accept the shape of her words. “But why was it a secret in the first place? It wouldn’t have been a big deal in our group.” We’d come of age at a time when our friends were dealing with depression and burnout and other mental health issues, therapy or pharmaceutical treatment no kind of taboo topic.
Darcie took a long time to reply. “It was our parents.” Lifting the oranges from her eyes, she put them in the basket. “They didn’t know what to do with a child who wasn’t”—she hooked her fingers in the air to create air quotes—“ ‘normal.’ ”
A shake of the head, the sun glinting on the strands. “I tried to do what I could, tell Bea she didn’t have to hide who she was from our friends, but she just wouldn’t have it.”
I’d always thought the Shepherds the best of parents. “Did they get her counseling, other treatment?”
“Yes, of course. They weren’t negligent.” Sharp, hard. “To be honest, I think my mother was scared by the Shepherd family history. Blake wasn’t playing with a full deck by the end, and there was also the so-called mad cousin of my father’s. I was too young to know much, but he did something pretty awful, got himself committed for life.”
She stared at the burned-out part of the structure that began their history. “I think, given time, my mother would’ve come to terms with Bea’s needs, figured out the best way forward—but she didn’t have that time. And we’d almost stopped noticing the problem; the medications worked so well while our parents were alive.”
“I would’ve never guessed.” Betrayal was a sour taste on the tongue. “Not in a million years.” Beatrice and I, we’d had an understanding. I was the keeper of her hopes and her secrets, the one person she could trust to never speak those secrets.
Darcie’s face softened. “She’d be happy to hear that. On her meds, she was the sister I grew up with. She was herself.” A sudden passionate look. “Don’t ever think that the girl you got to know wasn’t the real Bea.”
“I’d never think that.” I brushed her hand with mine. “She must’ve been excellent about taking the meds if we didn’t notice any fluctuations.”
“She was militant about it. Remember that watch she used to wear with all the alarms on it?”
“The one she told us was for her vitamin regimen?” We’d teased her about her obsession, told her nothing would happen if she missed a dose of vitamin D or A.
“She did actually have a vitamin regimen.” Darcie leaned back against the tree, her lips curving upward. “Got into holistic health at fourteen, had a crazy schedule of vitamins and minerals and herbal teas. At first, we thought it was a manic episode, the way she was so excited about it—but she kept it up.”
“Never missed a day of yoga,” I murmured, thinking of how she’d done it even when we’d all gone camping, her body fluid in the slow dance of the ancient practice. One of my favorite photos of all time was of her sliding between moves in a forest clearing, the sunbeams her spotlight.
I don’t need anything special, Nae-nae. Just clear space and my breath.
“Yes.” Darcie’s smile faded. “But hidden in among the rest of it were the drugs she had to take to maintain her moods. It was so hard for me not to talk to you and the others about it, but I had to talk to someone. So I started calling our family doctor.”
“Dr. Cox?” I said before I realized I probably shouldn’t know that. Thinking fast, I added, “I think I might’ve chatted to him at your wedding? Name just stuck in my head for some reason.”