Page 120 of Bobby Green
“Wait a sec!” Dex waylaid him with a hand on the arm. “About filming scenes. You think, maybe, not your thing anymore?”
Reg gnawed on another cuticle because the first one was bloody. “You think of something a guy who barely finished high school can do that gets him health and dental, you let me know,” he said honestly. Oh God—he was gonna be thirty. “And I’m not great with animals. I mean, I know Tommy’s at PetSmart and stuff, but I may get a dog someday, and that’s gonna be the end of it, you know?”
Dex nodded, looking sober and a little sad. “I hear ya. Look, just hang on, okay? I’ve got a thing I want to do. John’s coming back in a couple of days—I think he’ll help. It’s so, you know, guys who work here have maybe something to do when they’re done working here.”
Reg smiled, but even he recognized the bitterness. “That sounds real nice and all, Dex, but we both know those plans are for other guys. Not me.”
He turned away then and walked out. Bobby was waiting for him with a special meal he’d cooked all by himself, and movies, and generally some peace and quiet. Reg, who used to be able to go out and fuck himself raw after a scene, thought peace and quiet with Bobby was about the best dream a guy like him could have.
“I WANTto go back to the place.”
Reg stared at his sister, uncertain. “V?”
She looked better. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail, and she was clean, wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater that fit. He’d asked her doctor—the one who’d been assigned to her as she’d climbed rung after torturous rung of mental health institutions until she got to the one that said she could be released and taken home—and he’d said she’d never stop wearing long-sleeved shirts, even in the worst of the summer.
Damned bugs crawling out of her skin. She would believe that until she died.
“I had a boyfriend there,” she said accusingly. “I don’t know where they’ll put Kevin after this. How am I supposed to find him?”
“You could write him,” Bobby said, and Reg’s heart beat triple-time, he was so relieved. Oh, thank God for Bobby, who had dealt with the acres of paperwork and legions of doctors, taking careful notes the entire time.
Reg had signed everything—his name was on the conservation—conservatorship—papers, so he was legally in charge. Somehow, being legally in charge felt worse and harder now that V had been inside a hospital she apparently didn’t hate and wanted to go back to.
“I could write him?” she asked, suddenly curious.
“Yeah.” Bobby grabbed one suitcase by the handle and stepped forward to take hers. She yanked on hers, keeping it in her possession, and he shrugged and started up the stairs. “We have the address of the care home in about sixty different places here. You write him a letter, we get an envelope and address it, and we send him a letter. Then he has your address, and he can send one back.”
“That’s a good idea,” Reg said in an undertone, and Bobby winked at him. It wasn’t until he winked that Reg realized how much he’d been dreading this moment, with V home. He’d almost seen Bobby just ditching her at the door and saying “I’ll see you around.” But that wasn’t the case at all, and Reg could suddenly breathe again.
It wasn’t over. It wasn’t over. V was here, and Bobby was here, and maybe Reg didn’t have to give her up after all.
“I’ll do that,” she said, following Bobby upstairs. “Thank you.” She smiled briefly at Bobby, who inclined his head inyou’re welcome. Oh, that was encouraging, wasn’t it? “Make sure my pill is ready in two hours, Reg. They said I have to keep to a real strict schedule, remember?”
Reg remembered. The week before, the doctor had briefed him on the different medications she took three times a day. He’d written it down and put it on the refrigerator and then put everything in the little weekly pack they’d gotten at the drugstore. The regimen was longer and more complicated this time, but V swore it helped her keep the voices at bay while letting her function without the cloud around her brain.
“Yeah, V. I’ve got an alarm and everything. We don’t want any bad shit to happen.”
She turned to him, brown eyes troubled, biting her lower lip. “I don’t always remember when it does,” she said honestly. “But no. You gotta know that, Reg. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Reg smiled and bit his lip at the same time. “I knew that, V. Me and Queenie always knew that. You wanted to keep us safe.”
V looked sad then. “I miss Queenie,” she confessed. “I… I liked having a sister. And the babies were sweet.”
Reg sighed. He’d gotten a letter from Queenie over Easter, with pictures of the kids—five of them now. He’d shown it to V during their last visit, and she’d wept hard and begged him to have her visit.
Queenie didn’t respond to his letter. Reg guessed she didn’t know what to say. For a minute he thought about Bobby’s mom and how excited she’d been to hold Frances. He’d been there the night Dex and Kane went over for dinner. She’d bought toys for the little girl to play with, and after dinner, she’d held Frances on her lap so she could do her hair. Reg wondered, for maybe half a minute, if he could do the same thing, have Frances visit, but in that half a heartbeat, he saw the way V waswithouther medication.
He didn’t want his friend’s kid to see her like that.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he lied, his throat dry.
“Thanks, Reg.” She smiled a little and yawned. “I’m going to go lay down now, okay?”
Reg nodded and watched as she followed Bobby up the stairs. “I’ll wake you up when it’s time to take your medicine. We’ll have lunch.”
“What’s for lunch?” she asked, animated for the first time.
“Spaghetti with salad.” He and Bobby had made the sauce from scratch.