Playing the Part

“That’s progress,” Lindy remarked with a smile and stopped to spread their beach blanket on the soft sand. “So what’s new, Li?” she asked as they both settled on the blanket. “It seems like something’s bothering you.”

“Why would you think that?” Lilah asked.

“Well, Pops mentioned something and I thought if something were bothering you, you might open up to me if you were inclined to open up to anyone.” Lilah nodded but remained silent. Lindy tried again, saying, “Of course, you don’t have to, but I hate the thought of you being in pain over something when I might be able to help.”

Lilah’s sad smile said it all. Lindy’s heart sank a little. She’d been hoping everyone else was just imagining things, but the proof that her hope had been misplaced was currently staring off into the distance, with a bleak light in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Lindy asked, concerned.

“It’s hard to describe in a way that you could understand,” Lilah answered.

“Try me.”

Lilah sighed. “Have you ever felt that you just don’t have a place in life? That no matter what you do, you’re still standing on the outside looking in?”

Lindy shook her head. “No.”

“I didn’t think so,” Lilah said with a short cynical smile. “You’re the kind of person who walks into a room and all eyes are drawn to you because you shine with a light that’s hard to ignore. When I walk into a room, no one notices.”

“That’s not true,” Lindy protested. How could Lilah see herself like that? How could Lilah not see that she shone with a different kind of light, one that was soft and gentle and kind? “You have an ability to see the good in people, for smoothing over the rough spots in a person’s personality... I mean, that’s a true gift.”

“Some gift,” Lilah muttered, clearly not impressed. “Hardly useful if you ask me.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. It’s difficult being sandwiched between Lora and me. We’re both in-your-face type of personalities but that doesn’t mean that you don’t stand out in your own way.”

“It’s not just that, Lindy,” Lilah admitted softly. “It’s that I don’t seem to have anything that I’m good at.” As Lindy started to protest, Lilah held up her hand with a gentle admonishment. “No, wait. Let me finish. It’s all part of that knowing-your-place-in-the-world feeling that I was describing earlier. You’re an actress. Lora is a businesswoman. What am I? The flighty sister who can’t be trusted to handle tough jobs, the one who breaks under pressure. Not exactly the most flattering picture of myself, you know?”

“You’re an amazing artist,” Lindy interjected firmly, not willing to buy into Lilah’s assessment. “Teachers always said you had an uncanny way of knowing how to bring emotional depth to your work, even without much formal training. If that’s not talent, I don’t know what is.”

“What teachers said in high school certainly doesn’t do much good now. I was adequately talented with art. And now that Heath isn’t able to fire the glass for his glass fusion pieces, I’ve been filling in, but I’m just following his template. Any monkey could do what I’m doing.”

“That’s not true. Lora can’t do it. Heath told me that he loved the woman but if she tried to fuse another glass piece it might ruin their relationship.”

At that Lilah smiled. “Okay, you’re right. Lora isn’t any good with artistic mediums but she’s such a sharp businesswoman, she doesn’t need another talent. I’d like to be good at something. Anything.”

Lindy didn’t know what to say. It hurt her heart to hear her twin so candidly admitting how lost she was and it hurt worse knowing that Lindy couldn’t fix Lilah’s feelings about herself. She bit her lip, almost unable to believe the words were going to leave her mouth given her low opinion of therapists, but she knew her sister needed someone to help her through this. “Maybe you ought to see, like, a counselor or something,” she said, wincing at the words. “Or I don’t know...maybe read a self-help book?” she suggested, floundering for ideas.

“I’m fine,” Lilah said, shaking her head. “It’s my problem and not a new one. I’ll get it figured out...eventually.”

They were the right words, but Lindy sensed not even Lilah believed what she was saying and it scared Lindy. What scared her worse was that bleak expression on her sister’s face, the way she seemed resigned to...what? Giving up? Fading away? Lindy didn’t like any of those choices. “Move to L.A. with me when I go back,” she said impulsively, almost desperately.

“You and I both know that’s a terrible idea. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to fit in there. I’d slowly die inside without my island.”

“It kinda looks like that’s what’s happening now,” Lindy risked murmuring, shooting Lilah an uncertain glance. “You’re not happy.”

“What’s happiness?”

Lindy rolled her eyes, mildly irritated. “Don’t go all philosophical on me. You’re deflecting because you don’t want to think about what’s happening.”

“That’s all I do is think about it. I’m tired of thinking about it,” Lilah returned a bit sharply. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap but you’re wrong. It’s not like one day I woke up feeling melancholy and lost. It’s a feeling I’ve had for a long time and it’s just gotten worse.”

“You sound depressed,” Lindy blurted out, panicked by the utterly calm face of her twin as they discussed her situation. Shouldn’t there be tears? Or anger, or something? Lindy had once read that suicide victims often knew weeks in advance of the day they were going to kill themselves and when they did finally do it, they were very peaceful about their decision. Lindy suppressed a shudder of dread as the horrid thought seized her mind. “Don’t walk into the ocean and just disappear!”

Lilah did a double take, with a strange look. “What are you talking about?”

“Well...you’re acting so...like the people who are about to kill themselves and I couldn’t take the thought of you doing that so I figured I ought to throw it out there so you know that I’m not okay with that plan. You know?”

Lilah chuckled and the laughter actually reached her eyes, for which Lindy was inordinately grateful. “I can promise you I’m not interested in killing myself. I’m sorry to have put that idea in your head. I’m just sad, okay? Not suicidal.”

Lindy let out a deep breath. “Oh, thank God,” she said, feeling a weight lift from her chest. “Sad I can handle. Suicidal tendencies I cannot.”

Lilah chuckled and as her gaze traveled farther down the beach, she frowned. “Isn’t that the little girl in Bungalow 2?”

Lindy followed Lilah’s gaze and indeed, saw Carys walking down the beach, her feet splashing in the surf in a sullen manner. Lindy sighed. “Yeah,” she said and stood up. “I better go see what’s going on.”

Lilah nodded and Lindy walked to Carys. “What’s up, kid? You trying to ditch your dad again?”

“No, he was supposed to meet me down here but he hasn’t come yet. I guess he changed his mind.”

Inside, Lindy winced at the forlorn tone couched within the thinly veiled sarcasm. This kid was hurting. Couldn’t Gabe see that? How could he be so blind? She propped her hands on her hips and made a split-second decision. “Come hang out with me and my sister Lilah. She’s cool—you’ll like her. I promise.”

Carys’s gaze lit up hopefully but she held back, unsure. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I didn’t say you did. I just thought you might like to hang out with the cool kids, you know? But if you’ve got something better to do...”

“No,” Carys said quickly, smiling. “That sounds fine with me.”

“Great,” Lindy said, returning the smile as they walked back to the blanket where Lilah was sunning herself. Lindy stole a glance at Carys, troubled by the fact that she cared more than she should for this kid. She wasn’t the kind of person who adopted people or causes. That was Lilah’s gig. Lindy preferred her relationships easy and superficial. But for some reason, she couldn’t turn a blind eye to Carys’s pain. So how could Carys’s father not see that his daughter was clearly losing the battle against her grief and sadness? Stop it, she ordered herself. Gabe was the kid’s father; he’d figure it out. But what if he didn’t? That same voice she was trying to silence was irritatingly persistent.

And Lindy didn’t know what to do about it.

* * *

CARYS DIDN’T WANT to admit it, but she was grateful Lindy had invited her to hang out with her. Even though Lindy had promised to be available if Carys needed her, Carys was a little shy about actually hitting her up on her promise. But Lindy and her sister Lilah had happily dragged her along as if it weren’t a huge inconvenience to have a kid hanging around and it made Carys feel good inside.

“Lindy said you guys lost your mom when you were young?” Carys prompted, sipping at the coconut-and-pineapple smoothie Celly had created for them as they sat on the Bells’ private terrace.

Lilah and Lindy shared a look and Lilah nodded. “Yeah, and then our Grams died when we were teenagers. But Pops doesn’t remember that, so we try not to remind him.”

Carys frowned. “Huh?”

“Pops is losing his memory and it’s easier on him to think that she’s still here,” Lindy explained, her expression dimming for just a moment. “So if he tries talking about Grams just try to pretend that he’s making sense.”

“That’s weird,” Carys said. “Can’t you take him to the doctor or something?”

Lindy sighed. “I wish it were that easy. You can’t fix dementia.” Then she glanced at Lilah quickly. “You can’t, right?”

Lilah shook her head. “No. The doctor said the damage to his brain is irreversible. All we can do is manage his care, and since all of us agree that we are not going to put him in a home, that means he’s here with us. We just have to do what we can to keep him safe.”