Mayra was just finishing her drink when I came back into the living room.
“Dad texted me, saying he was going to be late,” Mayra informed me. “So I’ve got some extra time. Do you want to watch TV or something?”
“Okay,” I replied.
“What do you have there?” Mayra asked as she nodded toward my hands.
“Nothing.” I quickly hid the plastic bag behind me, then kind of walked backwards into the kitchen and shoved it into the drawer next to the scissors.
Mayra narrowed her eyes and shook her head at me. She headed down the short set of stairs to the lower level and the family room with the television. She grabbed the remote and dropped onto the loveseat. I slowly walked over and sat down beside her on the other side of the small couch, determined to put all thoughts of dirty lottery tickets out of my head.
We found a repeat episode of MythBusters.
“I love this one,” Mayra said. “The whole bit where they just crash the car between the semis is about as inspired as destruction gets.”
I had to laugh.
We watched in silence until the commercials started. That’s when the phone rang. When I answered, it was Megan’s doctor on the line.
“Hello, Matthew,” Dr. Harris said. “I need to talk to you about your sister.”
“Is Megan okay?”
“She’s fine,” Dr. Harris said. “We just need to adjust her medication.”
Dr. Harris went on for a while about drug interactions and how this new treatment might actually make Megan more communicative. I had heard it all before. When the doctor was done, she got to the point.
“I’ll need you to sign a few forms,” she said. “Basically the same forms you have signed before, just with the different dosages. Should I send them to your uncle’s fax machine at work?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll look them over and get them back to you.”
“Thanks, Matthew. You take care.”
“Bye.”
I hung up the phone and saw Mayra watching me.
“Your sister?” Mayra asked.
I nodded.
“It was her doctor,” I said. “I have some forms I have to sign.”
I sat back down and stared at my hands in my lap. The last time we changed Megan’s medicine, she completely freaked out for about four days. She eventually settled back down, but the doctor had to adjust the medicine three times before she went back to normal. Well, normal for Megan.
“Matthew?”
“Yes?”
“Will you tell me more about your sister?”
I thought about it for a minute, finally deciding I wanted Mayra to know about Megan. I didn’t want to keep anything from her, and Megan was important.
“Megan is four years older than me,” I said. It seemed like as good a place as any to start. “I can’t really talk about her without explaining about me, too, though.”
“I’d like to know more about you,” Mayra confirmed.
I nodded to her.