Thea at Sixteen (17 page)

“We'll manage,” Meg said. “We always have before, and we will again.”

“What about Aunt Grace?” Thea asked.

“No,” Nick said. “We've never taken a penny from her, and we're not about to start now.”

“I can leave Harvard,” Evvie said. “I don't know if we can get our money back for this semester, but at least we won't have to pay for next.”

“No,” Sam said. “Don't be ridiculous, Evvie. I'll ask my grandparents to pay for you. I'm sure they will.”

“Stop it, all of you,” Meg said. “Sam, Clark, Evvie, I understand your concerns, and you're really very sweet, but right now the important thing is for Sybil just to make it through the night. Don't you understand that? We have to take this one day at a time, and right now all that matters is Sybil getting stronger. The money is secondary.”

“I'm sorry,” Evvie said. “Megs, you must be exhausted. Why don't you rest for a little while? You, too, Nicky. There's a phone in your room, you'll be sure to know if the hospital calls.”

“Will you girls go to sleep?” Meg asked.

“After we clean up,” Evvie replied. “I promise.”

“All right then,” Meg said. “Come on, Nicky. Let's get some rest.”

Nicky followed Megs upstairs. The others busied themselves with washing dishes and putting things away, and then went to their respective bedrooms.

“I'm not going to be able to sleep,” Thea said as she stretched out by Evvie's side. “I keep picturing the accident, the way Sybil looked.”

“It's all right,” Evvie said. “You don't have to sleep. Nicky and Megs aren't sleeping. I doubt that Sam is, either. But just resting will help.”

“She isn't going to die,” Claire said. “I know Sybil, better than any of you, and she isn't going to die.”

“I agree,” Evvie said.

“But the rest,” Claire said. “The legs, the knees. What was the doctor saying?”

“I'm not sure,” Evvie said. “I think maybe Sybil will have to have more surgery. He did mention an orthopedic surgeon.”

“Is she going to be crippled?” Claire asked. “Sybil would hate that.”

Evvie took a deep breath. “If that's what's going to happen, then we'll all have to do what we can for her,” she said. “So she can adjust better.”

“You mean in a wheelchair?” Thea asked. “Or on crutches?”

“I don't know,” Evvie said. “Maybe. Maybe just temporarily. You know as much as I do.”

Thea tried picturing Sybil in a wheelchair, but she couldn't. Sybil's face kept turning into Gina's. Thea realized that she had no idea if Gina was still alive, and Kip, in his turn, didn't know of Sybil's accident. She almost laughed, but was afraid that, if she did, she'd start crying again, so she swallowed her emotions, and lay there, absolutely still, until some form of sleep overtook her.

None of them slept past dawn the next day, and within an hour, they were back at the hospital. Sybil was getting stronger, the nurse told them. She'd awakened once, asked for her mother, and gone back to sleep. As soon as Megs heard that, she insisted that she be allowed to see Sybil, if only for a few minutes.

Clark didn't seem perturbed by last night's rejection, but continued to stay with them in the hospital, purchasing Danish and coffee and insisting that they eat something, stretch, take walks, keep their strength up. They were in a different waiting room now, but it looked much the same as the last one, just different innocuous prints on the wall, different magazines to thumb through.

“Thea? Thea Sebastian?”

Thea turned around, expecting to see Kip. Instead she saw Peter Grass. It took her a moment to remember who he was.

“Mr. Grass,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I read about your sister in today's paper,” he said. “Are these your parents?”

Thea nodded. “And my other sisters,” she said. “And friends.”

Mr. Grass walked over to Nicky and Megs. “I wrote about Sybil,” he said. “About the wonderful work she was doing for the poor.”

“I remember,” Meg said, and she was smiling and gracious and Megs-like again. “We were very proud.”

“No, for tomorrow's paper,” Mr. Grass declared. “I did another column about her, about how Sybil got hurt because she was trying to help others.”

Thea just barely kept from yelping. She could see Claire swallow a giggle.

“That was very nice of you,” Meg said. “I'm sure Sybil will enjoy reading it when she's up and about.”

“She's a wonderful girl,” Mr. Grass said. “How is she doing?”

“We won't know for sure for a while yet,” Nick said. “But we're hopeful.”

“I spoke to my editor before coming over,” Mr. Grass said. “A lot of people made the connection between the news story and my original column. They remembered Sybil's name, and of course when my column appears tomorrow, even more people will remember just who Sybil is.”

“That's very nice,” Meg said. “I'm sure Sybil will like getting cards if people send them.”

“It's more than cards,” Mr. Grass said. “Two different civic groups have already called the paper about fundraisers. There's bound to be more of that sort of thing tomorrow, and all of next week. We understand that there's been extensive damage to her legs. If, I mean when, Sybil pulls through, she'll be facing a lot of physical rehabilitation.”

“Fund-raisers?” Nick asked.

Peter Grass nodded. “I can give you the information if you want,” he said. “I know you people are fairly new to Briarton, but this is a community that cares. And when the people feel they know someone, the way they got to know Sybil from my column, they want to reach out and help in any way they can. There's going to be an editorial tomorrow about her, as well as a call for the hit-and-run driver to turn himself in.”

“That really isn't necessary,” Nick said.

“We want to help,” Mr. Grass said. “The whole community wants to help.”

“We can take care of it ourselves,” Nick said. “My family has always managed to handle its problems, and this one is no different. There will be no fund-raisers, no charity. Whatever has to be done, we'll do ourselves.”

“We are grateful,” Meg said, and again, that restraining hand went on Nicky's arm. “Our time in Briarton has been wonderful, and everyone at the hospital has been very kind. But we'll manage.”

“They can donate blood,” Sam said. “Sybil's lost a lot of blood. There's a blood shortage, anyway. My grandfather worries about that. He's a doctor. People can donate blood.”

“That's fine,” Mr. Grass declared. “And I'll certainly mention that to my editor. But the people of Briarton want to do more. When people open their hearts you can't just turn them away.”

“Watch me,” Nick said. “Now, if you'll excuse us, Mr. Grass, it's time for us to visit our daughter.” He left the waiting room, and Megs trailed behind him.

“They'll change their minds,” Clark said. “When the reality of the bills sets in.”

“It could be too late by then,” Mr. Grass replied. “Do they have any idea what they're sacrificing, what kind of money they're going to need?”

“We'll manage,” Claire said, and for a moment, she was Nicky, her face, her gestures, her inflections. “We're the Sebastians, and we can take care of ourselves.”

Thea stared at Claire and didn't know whether to applaud or laugh. Instead of choosing, she put her head between her knees and began to worry about money and pain and desperate desolute futures.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

“All right,” Nick said. “Here's the situation.”

Thea sat in the living room. The house seemed empty, although Evvie, Claire, and Megs were there as well. Clark and Scotty had left Sunday night, and Sam had gone that morning. Evvie would be going the next day, and Thea dreaded to think how quiet things would be then.

“We know Sybil's better,” Evvie declared. “They wouldn't have let me see her today if she wasn't.”

Nicky nodded. “She's going to live,” he said. “We're over that hurdle.”

“How many more hurdles are there?” Claire asked.

“We spoke to an orthopedic surgeon this afternoon,” Meg said. “He said it was possible Sybil might never walk again.”

“That's obviously untrue,” Nick said. “Sybil will walk. We'll see to that. But she's going to have to have several operations and a great deal of physical therapy.”

“I don't believe it,” Thea said. “If she'd been standing one foot away, or if we'd gone there twenty minutes later, none of this would have happened. I hope they find the guy who hit her and kill him.”

“It was an accident,” Nick said. “Maybe they'll find him, maybe they won't, but either way, Sybil's in for a long, hard spell, and we have to do everything we can to help out.”

“What can I do?” Evvie asked. “I'm still willing to leave Harvard.”

Megs shook her head. “Nicky and I have been talking a lot about the money,” she declared. “Clark was right when he said how much was involved. But we feel very strongly that if you make it through this year, Harvard will help with the rest of your tuition. We'll have to borrow more, of course, but the one sacrifice we don't want to make is your education. Not just yours, Evvie, but Thea's and Claire's as well.”

“So go back tomorrow, and work on your grades,” Nick said. “The better your average, the more likely you are to wrangle some scholarship aid.”

“I'll try for A's,” Evvie said. “And get a part-time job.”

“I can get a job, too,” Thea said. “The fast-food places are always looking for kids.”

“Thank you,” Meg said. “Every penny is going to help.”

“There's nothing I can do, right?” Claire asked. “I already go to a public school, and I'm too young to work.”

“You could baby-sit,” Thea said.

“Would you trust your babies with me?” Claire replied.

“Listen to me,” Nick said. “We're either all in this together, or else we're no longer a family. Those are the choices. Daisy isn't going to be able to get a job, because we're going to need someone full time with Sybil, both while she's at the hospital and after she gets out. Any extra money any of us can bring in is going to go to the family. There aren't going to be any new clothes for a while, or new playthings.”

“Or new pianos,” Evvie said. “Oh, Megs, I'm sorry.”

Megs smiled. “I can live without a piano,” she said. “I still have my four daughters.”

“We're going to sell the house,” Nick declared.

“No!” Thea said.

“Dammit, Nicky,” Claire said. “Not another dump.”

“I want to finish the renovation,” Meg said. “We'll get a lot higher price for it that way.”

“I don't believe this,” Claire said. “As soon as we get this place nice-looking, we're going to have to leave it.”

“I'm also going to sell out my interest in the factory conversion,” Nick said. “I have a meeting tomorrow afternoon. I'll try for the best possible price, but since the project is still in the speculative stages, we shouldn't count on my getting very much. The house is the best investment we've made, and when we sell it, we'll find a low-cost apartment to rent, and we can use the money for Sybil's care.”

“Don't get me wrong,” Claire said. “I love Sybil, too. But this stinks.”

“Yes, it does,” Nick said. “No argument.”

Thea looked around the living room. Maybe in the past they'd had more money, but this was the best home she could remember them ever having. And Claire was right. “Low-cost apartment” was just a euphemism for dump. Thea knew what dumps were like, and she wasn't thrilled they'd be going back to one.

“Why not let other people help?” she asked. “Let the civic organizations have their fund-raisers. I can understand why you don't want to take money from Clark, but if the people in Briarton want to help, why turn them down?”

“There are always strings when people give you things,” Nick replied. “I won't have us indebted to strangers.”

“Or friends,” Claire said.

“In the short run, it'll be harder,” Nick said. “In the long run, you'll be grateful.”

“Besides,” Meg said. “We've had setbacks before. Just because Nicky's giving up on this one deal doesn't mean there won't be others. And wherever we live, it'll be our home.”

“An apartment will be better for Sybil,” Evvie said. “She couldn't manage the stairs here.”

“How long?” Thea asked. “The operations and therapy?”

Nicky took a deep breath. “A couple of years,” he replied. “Maybe more.”

“We'll all help with the therapy,” Meg said. “They'll train us so we'll know what to do.”

“She's going to be in a lot of pain,” Nick said. “And most people might quit. But not Sybil. She's a fighter, and she's going to walk again.”

Thea wondered just what odds the doctor had quoted, but then she decided it didn't matter. Nicky was right. Sybil was going to walk. She had to. They couldn't be giving up everything just to see her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

“I can work full-time in the summer,” Evvie said. “Move back here, so in the evenings I can help out with Sybil.”

“But then when would you see Sam?” Thea asked.

Evvie smiled. “I think that's the kind of sacrifice Nicky meant,” she said. “Besides, if I can stay at Harvard, I'll be with him there.”

“I'm glad I'm only fourteen,” Claire said. “By the time I'm old enough to have to do some sacrificing, Sybil will be healthy again.”

“Don't count on it,” Thea muttered.

“Sybil's first operation is scheduled for Thursday,” Nick said. “Barring complications.”