Chapter 94: Improvements

Sunday, March 4, 1984

It took me a little while, but I managed to get to sleep and slept fairly well. When I got up, I called the Hilton up in Skokie and left a message for Dad and Mom, giving them Gene’s phone number (on the chance they didn’t have it with them) and telling them we expected to be there from two to six. We’d go right home afterward so that they could easily call us.

The mood had mostly perked back up. Everyone remembered that Angie and I were worried and preoccupied, but we didn’t want to wreck the mood. If anything, we wanted a distraction from things.

We stopped for brunch at a diner in La Grange, arriving back at Memorial just before two. After a bunch of hugs, people hopped in cars and took off. Those of us in Study Group headed to Gene’s, of course.

Gene beat us there this time and had the house opened up. We hadn’t seen Marsha in quite a while. Presumably, at worst, they’d decided the cow was long, long gone from the barn and not going back, especially with Gene and Sue starting to apartment-hunt. That, and we’d shown no sign of having a big drunken party, much less burning down the house.

Today it was anything but a party. Not only were we busy studying for next week’s tests, but our news had everyone that much more coldly sober.

We’d only been at the house for about fifteen minutes when the phone rang. Gene answered, then shouted, “Steve! Angie!”

We came running, and wound up taking the call in Curtis’s (former?) office, since it had a speakerphone. Nearly everything was gone, but the phone remained.

“Hello?” Angie said, once I’d pushed the button on the speaker.

“Angie? Hello!” Dad said.

“I’m here, too,” I said.

“Hello, son!” Dad said. He sounded tired, which didn’t surprise me at all.

“I hope your trip was good,” Angie said.

“It was, thank goodness,” he said. “We’ve been here about an hour. Professor Berman is doing well, they say. We haven’t seen him yet, but we will soon. Mother — Grandmother, I mean — is in the ICU with him right now, and he’s only allowed one visitor at a time. If he continues to make good progress, they’ll relax that.”

“He’s conscious?” Angie said.

“He is. They say he’s hearing everything well, but having some difficulty responding. He can get his point across, though.”

“That does sound encouraging,” I said.

“I’m glad you didn’t drop everything and come up here,” Dad said. “There’s nothing happening, and I know you have things to do.”

“They’d excuse the absences,” Angie said.

“Yes, but you never know when you might need those for something else,” he said. “I don’t know if we’ll be up here the entire week, but if we are, and you want to, you could come up. If he keeps making progress, though, we’ll come home.”

“Tell Grandmother, and Professor Berman, that we’re thinking of them,” I said. “And tell Mom that we’ll miss her, too!”

“Yes!” Angie said. “All of that. Also, please pass along that Paige and Jasmine are thinking of them. And Cammie, but she never met Grandmother, just Professor Berman.”

“I’ll do that!” Dad said. “It’s good to hear your voices, too. I hated having to go so quickly, but...”

“We completely understand,” Angie said. “Sometimes you have to drop everything and just go. We’ll be fine.”

“We talked about it, and we’re planning on going home for dinner after school every day except Tuesday. That puts us home by four. We’ll be easy to reach,” I said.

“Tuesday we’ll be here, of course, until maybe seven,” Angie said.

“Thank you. I know that changes your schedule,” Dad said.

“It’ll be fine. We’ll just hang out at the house,” I said.

“We’ll see how things go,” he said, again sounding tired. “Everyone knows we can’t stay that long, but work is being good about the unexpected time away, and my customers will understand.”

“One of the many advantages of treating them well,” I said.

“You said it!” he said, chuckling softly. “I hate to presume on that, but life sometimes gets in the way.”

“It does, at that,” Angie said. “We’ll make sure everything is fine. Is there anything we need to watch for in the mail?”

“No,” he said. “All of the bills are paid and I can’t imagine anything urgent will turn up, but if you see something that looks urgent then, by all means, open it and let me know.”

“We will,” she said.

“I should go,” he said. “Not that I expect anything, but your mother will be waiting for me.”

“We love you both,” Angie said, with me chiming in.

“We love you, too!” he said. “I’ll try to call around seven-thirty tonight.”

“We’ll be looking forward to it!” I said.

Everyone was, of course, very supportive. Most everyone had had a grandparent fall sick or even pass away, and they knew what it was like.

The irony for me was that I’d had all of my grandparents pass away, but I’d never known them very well. Certainly not as well as I knew Professor Berman now. It felt very different from anything in my first life.

We got home just after seven. Not being sure what was in the fridge or pantry, we’d picked up some tacos from Rico’s.

Well, that, or we were lazy.

We’d invited Jas and Paige over, but they’d opted to go home, as we’d both expected. It made more sense; they’d been gone for two nights and their parents wanted to see them.

The phone rang at seven-thirty, as expected, with the usual ring we’d use after hours. We hardly needed it, but it was a nice signal. Angie and I picked up different phones.

We didn’t talk long. Dad hadn’t seen Professor Berman yet, but had been assured that he was doing well and that he and Mom would be able to visit tomorrow unless anything changed. Mom was happy to hear that we were home. Grandmother thanked everyone for thinking of her.

Angie and I stayed up until just after nine, doing a bit of homework and getting settled. I repacked my bag out of habit (who knew when we might have to rush off to Austin?) and then got ready for bed.

I wasn’t in the least surprised when Angie came in, wearing just her underwear, and climbed into bed.

“No PJs?” I said, teasingly.

She giggled. “No one to catch me, and you’d behave if I was stark naked.”

“Of course.”

“Wanna take over Mom and Dad’s beds?”

Mom and Dad had a very 1950s bed that put two twin mattresses side-by-side. They could have used king sheets, but they didn’t. They probably slept better that way, but it was something I’d never discussed with them.

“I’ve slept there before. Not this time, though, I think.”

She giggled. “I wasn’t serious. When?”

“When I was cleaning out the house after Dad passed away. I stayed in here for a while, but it made sense to move to the master bedroom after a while.”

“Ah! I hope that’s a very long time away.”

“Me, too.”

She sighed. “This sucks, you know?”

“I know. It’s not like I haven’t been through it, except...”

“You haven’t. Me, neither. I’m pretty sure Professor Berman died at some point while Sharon was being an FW. By the time I was down here, I think he was dead, and Grandmother was ... running down. It took her a while, but she died ... hell if I know. I was in classes at that time and couldn’t go because of finals. Well, or I said that was why. Either way.”

“I went to her funeral, which I think was in 1988. I think. She and Grandma died a few days apart,” I said, sighing.

“Sucks. We knew it was coming — it had to be coming — but it sucks now that it’s here. I mean, it’s really not here, maybe. It sounds like this may be partly a near miss. But ... it feels like it’s changed things.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I agree.”

“The thing is, he’s on borrowed time. Or, may be, anyway. You think he was dead by now. I’m nearly certain he was dead by now. This universe is different, but...”

“But it’s probably got at least something to do with us. Not directly, but how we’re doing.”

“Me,” Angie said, nodding. “You’re doing really well, but you were in your first life, too. Not as well, but more than well enough. Meanwhile, I’m doing really well, too. In my first life, and yours, I was struggling in Chicago. Even when Frank was still alive, my high school years sucked. Endless drama, and I kept getting busted doing things I shouldn’t. Matters got much worse when I was with FW Sharon, but Professor Berman was dead by then. Of course, then I came here and it was weird. By the time it wasn’t weird — if there was such a point — the damage was long since done.”

“I think it’ll matter to him to see us graduate high school. People sometimes hang on for reasons like that.”

“Which bodes well for the short term, but not for the long term.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Him making it to college graduation seems unlikely, though I hope I’m wrong.”

She nodded. “Even high school graduation would have seemed like a long shot in 1980, though.”

“I agree. Anything’s possible.”

She giggled. “Considering our experience, truer words were never said.”

“We’d better try to sleep.”

“Yeah. Hopefully, tomorrow will bring good news.”

“Fingers crossed.”

We rubbed noses, then kissed softly.

“It means so much that you’re who you are,” she said, sighing. “My first life was just ... it was all...”

She stopped, bit her lip, then said, “People leave. People die. People suck. Mom and Dad didn’t, but I almost convinced myself that they would. I don’t know what I’d have done this time without you as an anchor.”

“You’d have done fine,” I said. “I’m overjoyed that we’re brother and sister — that means more to me than I can say — but I’ve watched you for over three years, and well before you knew about me. I really think you’d have cast Max aside before he could be a real problem, and you’d have navigated high school successfully.”

“Yeah, but that’s with you,” she said. “If you’d been Iceberg Steve, and there was a chance of saving Max...”

“But there wasn’t a chance of saving him. And, without me, Mom doesn’t let you date or go to dances or...”

She bit her lip, then nodded. “I’d have shaken it off.”

“I think so.”

“It’d still have been completely different.”

“Of course! We’re much better off together. Still, you’d have done great. Also, don’t get me wrong — it means just as much to me that you’re who you are! You are a big part of why I am doing so well. But ... I didn’t fix you. You fixed you! If you hadn’t, I’d have been trying to save you, because that’s what I’d set out to do. I never had to, except that once, and even then it was just a shortcut, I think.”

“We really are always, aren’t we?” she said.

“And forever,” I said. “I just don’t see anything splitting us up. Maybe that just means I’m naive, but...”

She shook her head. “No, it means you’re you! That’s both good and...”

She paused, then said, “Not so good. But mostly good. It just also means that you stayed with your ex-wife until she dumped you! You’re not going to walk away from things most people would run away from. But like I said, it really is good, because I don’t think we’ll ever give each other cause. Not even a little, but definitely not the storming-off kind.”

“Me, neither. I also don’t think I would stay together with someone like that this time.”

“You wouldn’t. Partly, though, that’s because you have people who would kick your ass if it needed kicking.”

“That I do,” I said.

“Okay,” she said. “Sleep. Really.”

“Sleep,” I said, nodding.

“Love you,” she said.

“Love you, too,” I said.

Monday, March 5, 1984

It was strange getting up to go to school without Mom home. As best as I could recall, this was something completely new, something that had never happened in either life.