She was home by six thirty.
She walked in and shut the door behind herself carefully. The lights in the kitchen were off, and the TV flickered in the living room.
She stood quietly in the doorway with sad eyes.
Alex sat on the floor in front of the couch, brown eyes fixed on the still figure that lay before her.
Max took a step further into the room and peered down at the couch. Their mother was laying down, perfectly still but for her deep breathing.
Tears stung Max’s eyes, and she turned from her sister and walked out of the living room. She slid the deadbolts into place and gripped the doorknob. It was all locked up.
She turned back to the living room. Her sister was still fixated on Lillian.
On Mother, she reprimanded herself. On their mother.
Quietly, Max sat down on the floor next to her sister. Her eyes also fixated on their mother, and her chest threatened to cave in on itself.
“Did it last?” Max asked.
Alex didn’t answer. She just kept staring at her mother, as if Lillian could be fixed by sheer concentration.
Max took Alex’s hand and held it firmly.
“She asked where Dad was,” Alex said softly. “Then she just wasn’t here anymore.”
Tightness reigned in Max’s chest, and she squeezed her sister’s hand.
“But she was here for a little while. That’s what counts,” Max murmured.
Alex nodded softly, then leaned against her sister, her head resting in the crook of Max’s neck, her hands curled in front of her stomach. Max wrapped her arms around the little girl sadly.
“I miss her, Max,” she murmured.
She leaned her head against Alex’s.
“I know, kiddo. I do, too,” Max said.
“Do you think she’ll ever come back for good?” Alex asked with childish hope.
Max closed her eyes. The hope in Alex’s voice hurt her; it hurt the wall she had set up. The wall was the only thing that kept her sane sometimes; she couldn’t afford for it to be torn down. It was the one thing that separated her from the madness of her daily life.
“I hope so. I really hope so,” she said.
They didn’t speak for a few minutes. They just sat there, watching their mother breathe.
“I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’m starved. Did you eat?” Max asked.
Alex shook her head softly, and Max knew she must have lost her appetite when their mother reverted back to her old nature.
Max nodded softly, then tried to cheer up.
“Well, I’m too sore to make anything. How does pizza sound?” Max asked.
Alex smiled tentatively.
“Pizza is always the right answer,” she said.
“Okay. You go order it and I’ll get Mom to bed, okay? Your choice tonight,” she said.
Alex scrambled up and dashed to the phone in the kitchen before Max could change her mind, and Max was left in living room with their mother.
Max knelt in front of Lillian and brushed the hair out of her face.
For once, she looked peaceful. The right kind of peaceful, not the dazed, dizzying oblivion that covered her face when she was in her spells. In sleep, her face was so young. It smoothed out her eyes, which were usually narrowed or furrowed in confusion. She was only forty six but she looked older when she was awake. So much older and so very confused.
