Page 18 of When People Leave

Morgan

M organ spent most the four-and-a-half-hour drive back to Los Angeles trying to understand why Carla would keep her green card marriage a secret from them.

It’s not like they would have turned their mother and her “husband” into immigration.

Didn’t she have faith her daughters would understand wanting to help a friend?

Charlie spent the time sending emails to health insurance companies on her clients’ behalf, and Abby had a running text chain with her babysitter to figure out the best way to get peanut butter out of her dog’s ear.

Morgan knew all this because she could hear her sisters periodically yelling into and at their phones.

By the time she pulled into Carla’s driveway, Morgan’s stomach was growling like a police dog excited to catch a predator. The moment they walked into the house, Charlie went to call Rick, and Abby plopped down on the couch with an audible sigh.

“That was exhausting,” Abby said, closing her eyes.

“Yeah, sitting in the backseat doing nothing is tough,” Morgan mumbled.

As Abby drifted off to sleep, Morgan grabbed an apple from the kitchen and headed to Carla’s office. The room was exactly how they’d left it when they went to Vegas. Papers on the floor and all over Carla’s desk. A small piece of her expected her mother to have straightened up while they were gone.

Morgan sat in the desk chair with such purpose that it shot backward so quickly that she almost fell off.

After she righted herself, she pursed her lips and cracked her knuckles as if she were about to play a piano concerto.

She wanted the device to know that she was serious about finding the password, and this time, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Her muscles tightened in readiness, then she put her fingers on the keys and typed.

Morgan started by trying Carla’s favorite things: coconut, Seinfeld, coffee ice cream, and Baby Yoda.

Each time a password didn’t work she banged on the keyboard harder.

After one particularly hard jab, the ‘A’ key popped out and landed in her lap.

“None of you are leaving until I get past this screen,” she said to the other letters on the keyboard.

She picked up the ‘A’ key and pushed it back into the keyboard until she heard it click back into its slot. Thank goodness, she thought. Otherwise, when she wanted to curse someone out, she’d have to write ‘sshole,’ which wouldn’t have the same effect.

“I need a glass of wine,” Charlie called out from the other room. “Where is the bottle?”

“I hid it,” Morgan called back. “You’ll have to get another alcoholic to find it for you,”

“I need wine,” Charlie said again.

When Morgan heard Charlie opening and closing cabinets, she marched into the kitchen.

“Now I need wine,” Morgan said. Charlie stared at her. “I didn’t say I was going to have any. I just said I needed some.” Morgan grabbed the wine out of a cabinet above the refrigerator and handed it to Charlie. “Sometimes you’re a real ’sshole,” Morgan said, going back into the living room.

“What did you say?” Charlie asked, following her.

“Nothing,” Morgan said.

“Hey, you woke me up,” Abby said.

“How can you fall asleep in the middle of the day?” Charlie asked.

“It’s a gift,” Abby said, sitting up and stretching her arms above her head.

Charlie opened the bottle, poured Abby a glass and filled her own glass almost to the top.

“I’m guessing your call with Rick didn’t go so well,” Morgan said, eyeing Charlie’s glass.

“Instead of asking me how I was doing, he spent most of the time trying to convince me to come home,” Charlie said. “He hasn’t had time to go to the market or wash his sheets.” Morgan crossed her arms in judgment. “I know I have to break up with him,” Charlie said, rubbing her temples.

“Needy is not sexy,” Abby said, taking the wine glass from Charlie. “Hey, I should sell T-shirts with that on it.”

“Charlie, you can’t keep saying you’re going to end it with Rick and do nothing. Just pull the plug and let it slip away,” Morgan said.

“It’s not that easy,” Charlie said.

“Yes, it is. Remember, I told you I’m great at break-ups,” Morgan said.

“That’s because you aren’t good at relationships,” Abby said.

“It’s a gift,” Morgan said.

Charlie drained her glass of wine and poured herself more. “Just when the words, ‘Rick, we’re done,’ are about to come out of my mouth, he says something sweet or brings me roses.”

“You don’t like roses,” Morgan said.

Charlie shrugged and nodded at the same time, looking like a bobblehead. “What if I end it, and he immediately finds someone else.”

“Then he’ll be that woman’s problem,” Morgan said.

“True, but what if I never find someone else?”

“I was lucky I found my soulmate right away,” Abby said.

“How do you know Alex is your soulmate?” Morgan asked. “You’ve never dated anyone else.”

“I dated George Clooney in some of my dreams, but it didn’t work out,” Abby said to Morgan. “He was always away on a movie, so we didn’t get enough time together.” Abby turned to Charlie. “I’m sure you’d find someone else. You’re still relatively pretty.”

“I’m still very pretty,” Charlie said. “But men seem to have an easier time finding their next relationship. You’ll see when Alex gets tired of you.” Charlie toasted Abby then drained her glass and began coughing.

“Ha! The wine is trying to kill you for being mean,” Abby said, putting her glass on the coffee table and closing her eyes again. “Alcohol makes me sleepy.”

Morgan went back into Carla’s office. Charlie grabbed her wine glass and the bottle and followed her. Morgan sat on the floor in front of the desk, opened a file drawer, and pulled out a bunch of folders.

“What are you looking for?” Charlie asked.

“Anything that explains why mom killed herself,” Morgan said. As she looked through the papers inside, she fed them into the paper shredder, which munched on them purposefully.

“Are you sure none of those are important?” Charlie asked.

“Not unless you want to keep Albert’s diploma from obedience school.

He failed the first two times.” Morgan dropped the paper into the shredder; the sound of it being destroyed somehow comforted her.

She held a piece of paper out toward Charlie.

“Do you need your vaccination record to enter elementary school?”

Charlie dropped the paper into the shredder and then sat in the chair facing the computer. She picked up her glass and took a drink. “Does it bother you that I drink in front of you?”

“I had to get used to that a long time ago.”

Charlie nodded. “Hey, why is the ‘A’ trying to escape from the keyboard?” she asked.

“I couldn’t figure out the password for Mom’s computer,” Morgan said as if that was explanation enough.

Twenty minutes later, Abby walked in, yawning.

“Thanks for joining us, Sleeping Beauty,” Morgan said.

“Give me a break. I never get to nap. I feel like a lady of leisure,” Abby said.

“Well, lady of leisure, it’s your turn to try breaking into the computer,” Charlie said, standing up and offering the chair to Abby. “Morgan and I haven’t made any headway.”

“What passwords have you already tried?” Abby asked.

“Too many to count,” Charlie said.

“I tried all of mom’s favorite things,” Morgan said.

“What about her most favorite thing of all?” Morgan and Charlie looked at her expectantly. “A-B-B-Y.” Abby’s fingers dashed across the keyboard. “Damn.” She slumped down in the chair.

“You overestimate your importance,” Charlie chuckled.

Abby tried a few more words, then shook her head, and got out of the chair.

“We haven’t found anything in here,” Morgan said. “I think it’s time to search Mom’s bedroom.”

“I’m worried that if we go in there, we’ll lose it,” Abby said.

“Then how about we open the door but not go in right away,” Morgan said. “That way, we can get used to seeing it first.”

Charlie and Abby agreed. “Which one of us is going to open it?” Charlie asked.

“You’re the oldest, Morgan, you should do it,” Abby said.

The three of them walked toward the room, but Charlie and Abby stopped at the end of the hall.

“Hey, you guys come here, I’m not going in alone,” Morgan said.

Charlie and Abby joined her outside the bedroom.

“Ready to go in?” Morgan asked, as she put her hand on the knob.

“No,” Abby said.

Morgan opened the door slowly, and the three women held hands and walked inside. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Morgan began to mist up.

“Don’t you dare cry,” Charlie said, bursting into tears. Albert ran past them joyfully, jumped on the bed, stretched out, and immediately began snoring.

Morgan picked up a library book with a bookmark tucked three-quarters in. “Mom didn’t even get to find out how the book ended,” she said, a tear rolling down her cheek. I hope the library doesn’t fine her , Morgan thought then realized how stupid that was.

Their mom’s bed was neatly made, and every throw pillow perfectly placed.

On the nightstand, was a picture of Carla with the three of them from Charlie’s college graduation, and another from right before the first and only time the three of them went kayaking.

They had to be rescued by the junior lifeguards after getting stuck on the rocks.

Morgan looked over at her sisters. She had always thought that she and Charlie looked the most alike.

Charlie had strawberry-blonde curls; Morgan’s hair was the same color, but straighter.

Charlie was five feet three inches tall, and Morgan was half an inch taller.

The biggest difference between them was that Charlie’s fair skin had very few wrinkles, while Morgan had the face of someone twenty years older.

Eighteen years of drugs and alcohol did that to a person.

Although Abby looked a lot like Carla, Morgan thought Abby was also the perfect blend of her and Charlie. She was five feet two inches tall, with the same golden-brown waves that her mom had. The sisters shared blue eyes and little button noses.