Afterlife - Julia Alvarez Page 0,55

The motel to house them. The farm to feed them. Now the pregnant teenager and the fatherless child she will soon give birth to.

Ay, Izzy, Antonia sighs, moved in spite of her exasperation. You have to start by taking care of yourself. The mantra of the First World. First, your own oxygen mask, then everyone else’s.

Izzy lets herself fall back on the bed. What for?

What do you mean “what for”?

All this goddamn self-care? “What’s it all about, Alfie?” her sister sings, a favorite song of their teen years.

“Is it just for the moment we live?” Antonia sings back, trying to brush off the question. Sometimes it’s not the right time to address the existential angle. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other—that’s the road she’s traveling and wants to encourage Izzy to travel.

How’s the migraine, by the way? Antonia changes the subject, something that never works with any of the sisters or ever worked with their mother. Dogs with a bone—all four. Just like Mami. The mango tree, the mangoes.

Forget it, Izzy says, rolling over, turning her back to Antonia. Leave me alone, she says, shrugging Antonia’s hand from her shoulder. If you’re not going to help me, at least help that poor kid.

Antonia feels a flash of anger. Everyone is always telling her what she should do! Starting with Sam, who claimed it was because Antonia didn’t know her own mind. Into the vacuum of her considerations he would step with his big, clunky certainties. She’s suddenly angry at him, too.

If he were alive, this would be the moment when they’d have one of their fights. That, too, is over. Which makes her all the angrier. Again, and once and for all, he has the last word.

Dr. Campbell has an appealing, androgynous look, with the toned forearms of someone who works out, a firm handshake, no makeup, no wiles or easy smiles. The only whimsy is a purple strand in her brown spiked hair, signaling something, Antonia is not sure what. Her students would know. Who will teach her these things anymore?

Dr. Campbell escorts the sisters into her office, lined with shelves stocked with what look to be textbooks, the flank of volumes punctuated here and there by a snow globe or paperweight. No family photos. Perhaps, as with PI Dot, that personal a touch would give too much away.

Dr. Campbell greets Izzy as Dr. Vega, a courtesy that will endear her to Izzy, who—as she likes to remind her sisters when they get uppity with what they know—did earn a doctorate in psychology. And not a half-assed MSW or one of those “honorary” doctorates like the ones they’ve given to Antonia for being a blabbermouth author, spilling everyone’s beans in the family and calling it fiction, but a real bona fide sheepskin that took her a decade to earn, with the help of Antonia’s edits and a hypnotist to boost her confidence. (So had it already started then, the paralyzed will, the lack of confidence, the tiny chemical worm in her brain?)

May I call you Felicia? Dr. Campbell asks Izzy, who makes a face. Call me Izzy, as in, dizzy Izzy, she says, glaring at her sisters. She’s heard their “secret” epithet for her.

Izzy? Dr. Campbell smiles tentatively. Please call me Kim.

It’s unsettling to entrust a beloved sister’s psyche to someone named Kim. Dr. Campbell, Antonia persists in calling her.

Dr. Campbell has a calm, focused manner. The old iron hand in a velvet glove. She must be in her early forties. She could be my daughter, Antonia muses, as she often used to with her students—first, thinking they could be her kids, then, by the time she retired, her grandkids. Dr. Campbell wants to hear from Izzy what she is experiencing. Let your sister explain, please, she admonishes whenever the other sisters interrupt to correct Izzy’s version of the story of the last couple of weeks. Back in childhood, when Mami was the referee, such preferential treatment would have brought on jealous accusations. You’re playing favorites! That’s not fair! But Antonia guesses Dr. Campbell’s approach is a therapeutic strategy, not favoritism.

According to Izzy, her sisters totally overreacted. She was headed to Tilly’s house, but then one thing led to another, including losing her cell so she couldn’t very well call and inform them she had changed her plans. Right? Absolutely, Dr. Campbell nods, as if this is indeed reasonable. She is no fool, though, nudging gently. What about some llamas I heard you