An Unexpected Serving

Chapter Two: Hayley

I close the door and walk back into the apartment in a daze. How could I not have known? "So, what do I need to do to get some food around here?" Hayley's voice tore into my thoughts.

"You can look in the fridge. See if there's anything you'd like," I say automatically. Hayley does just that. She sifts through whatever I have and settles on an apple. Then, she sits on one of my chairs and stares at me defiantly.

My brain is occupied with two things. My sister and Hayley. The only sound is that of the apple as she munches away. Her eyes are glued to mine, and I'm the first to look away. "What happened?" I ask, moving closer to her.

"Why would you care?" she grumbles back. "You never even showed up to the funeral. You never showed up at all."

"I—" Before I go on, I stop myself. Now is not the time to tell her my reasons for avoiding my sister and her family. "I'd still like to know."

"They died in some random robbery," Hayley says. "So, now I'm going to stay here." She was so blunt about it. Had she moved on so quickly? From the way her eyes shifted as she spoke, I guess not.

A robbery? What a meaningless way to die. They had a daughter and a family, and here I am. Alone. Maybe that's just fate's way of laughing at us all.

It's true that I never visited, but that didn't mean that I wouldn't even want to go to my own sister's funeral. We used to be close. We used to tell each other everything. I feel an ache behind my eyes and swallow hard to control myself. I need to think of more practical things right now. Hayley didn't need to see me breakdown during our first real meeting.

     Why hadn't I been notified? And then I remember. A week ago, I got a letter in the mail. It was postmarked Ohio. I always chucked mail from that place. Reading about my sister's perfect life wasn't one of my favorite things to do. Maybe that letter had been about the funeral. So, it was just me messing it all up again.

"Hayley, of course you can stay here," I say.

"Thanks, you're a real angel," she replies bitterly. Then, she gets up, goes to my room, and slams the door shut. I sigh and lean back against the wall. My sister...

I want to cry, but the tears won't come. It's been fourteen years since I talked to her. I don't even really know her anymore. Instead, I have a dull ache in my heart and throat without the strength of feeling to release the pain.

I spend the rest of the afternoon reading the newspaper without seeing the words and flipping through channels on my old TV. The pictures aren't very clear, but it is a good distraction. Better than trying to make sense of what is going on. I can't read my book either since it is locked in my room along with Hayley.

Hasn't she been there long enough? I don't want to upset her by asking her too many questions, but it isn't healthy. Readying myself for a storm, I knock on the door.

"Hayley, is there anything you'd like for dinner?" I ask. No answer. "Hayley?" I call out, louder this time.

Click.

The door unlocks, and Hayley stares up at me. "No. I'm not hungry." She moves to close the door again, but I jam my foot in the crack just in time.

"You're going to eat. I don't care if you're not hungry," I say, doing my best to be firm. She is a child, after all.

"You don't care about me at all. You're just doing this so you can feel better about yourself," she mutters. But she still opens the door and walks to the kitchen.

Was she right? It was true that I didn't really feel anything for her yet. I was still in shock. It's not that I didn't care about her. I just didn't know her yet.