Little Death by the Sea by Susan Kiernan-Lewis

to
Maggie’s apartment.
    Maggie had prattled and wept and rejoiced as
she drove, quickly imagining her parents’ joy, their
self-absolution to learn that Elise was back and alive. Even little
Nicole would be cured, Maggie felt, when she was reunited with her
Maman. And, as she pulled into her apartment driveway, her right
hand still holding tightly Elise’s bony, withered one, Maggie knew
they would help put her right. Whatever was wrong with her,
whatever was hurting her, would be banished and eliminated.
    Now, as she sat watching Elise in her small
living room, Maggie felt her whole world move into place with a
resounding, satisfying “click.” She thought of her parents’ pain
this last year, of how far they had come in saying good-bye to the
daughter they believed they had failed.
    “Elise, Mother and Dad have been so...”
Maggie screwed up her face to keep the tears from coming.
    “I know, Maggie.” Elise set the mug down on
the coffee table as if it were Spode china. She looked up at
Maggie, her face an encyclopedia of suffering as if to say: what is
the pain of these rich people compared to drug addiction? The loss
of one’s baby? Degradation? What do you know about pain?
    Maggie felt her sister’s indicting gaze and
turned away from it.
    “I don’t know what all you’ve been through,
Elise. But I know what our parents have been through.”
    “And none of it was necessary.”
    Maggie turned to regard Elise and her sister
smiled at her. Maggie sat down slowly on the couch next to her.
    “You’re...you’re not in pain right now?” she
asked softly.
    “I’m a junkie, Maggie. That’s not clear to
you?”
    The words stabbed at Maggie’s heart. Other
people, Elise. God, other people.
    Elise laughed and rubbed her hands across her
face. She looked around the room, smiling cheerlessly as she did
so.
    “You’ve got sort of a knack for color,
Maggie. I’m surprised, I guess.”
    “Elise, I need you to tell me what happened
to you. What happened to you over there? I don’t know anything. You
were out of touch for so long. And Gerard. God, explain to me about
Gerard. I guess you know Nicole is with us?”
    Elise stared at the room.
    “Your room at home was always so...orderly
and organized. You’d always have everything in its place.” She
shrugged sleepily and reached for her empty coffee mug.
    “I’ll get some more.” Maggie got up and
walked to the kitchen to pour another cup.
    “But no style. No color or flair
or...life.”
    Maggie returned with the steaming mug and
handed it to her.
    “And your room was a shambles,” Maggie
said.
    “Full of life.”
    “Yeah, teeming with it.” Maggie smiled
nervously at her and Elise smiled back. She felt in awe of her
sister back from the grave. It occurred to her that so completely
had she accepted Elise’s disappearance and probable demise that she
had plunged headlong into the process of grieving her, so that she
now felt off-balance and inadequate.
    “I loved him,” Elise said. “From the moment I
laid eyes on him.” She looked directly into Maggie’s eyes. “I loved
him and I needed him.”
    Maggie swallowed painfully.
    “And all you see is this...miscreant that
could dump me out of a car or beat me up, oh yeah, he did that a
few times. Nicole, too, for that matter.” She shrugged. “Enough
times.” Her eyes returned to their casual inventory of the living
room. “She was born with a heroin addiction, you know. Such an
awful thing to endure...the sound of a helpless baby screaming, not
for food or to be changed...” She looked back at Maggie and smiled
weakly, sheepishly. “But because she needs a fix.” She drank her
coffee in silence.
    Who are you? Suddenly, Maggie wanted
to leave, not to have to hear everything she knew Elise was going
to tell her. Not to have to keep it all from her mother—through the
happy times, warm times, close moments that she was sure were still
ahead of them. To listen to Elise—and she had to listen