The Truths Behind the Life of Maeve Sun Lively

108

ROSALIE SEEMS TO BE A different person after the drug overdose. She's a lot calmer, and she's not acting calm like she had used to. She's actually calm. And composed. She seems to know everything, like the Yoda or something. It's kind of terrifying.

Carlise and her parents are driving some random junk into a storage place before their plane sets to fly to Los Angeles tonight. The rehab is going to be there, and it seems that they wanted Rosalie away from the place where she had done the "incident" (which is what everyone's calling the overdose now).

So now, we have the rest of the afternoon to the two of us before Rosalie and the others have to leave. I don't know how long finishing the rest of the recordings is going to take, but it'll be a time where I'll listen to these alone without anyone, in this big fancy penthouse. I find it for the first time scary, and finally coming to an understanding of the feeling Maeve described when she was alone in her large home despite all the pleasures and riches that filled her needs.

We sit down in our usual spots like always, her in her small sofa chair and me behind the glass desk. I'm struck with a sudden nostalgic feeling this brings, and it's only been two weeks since we were last here together. Although it's different now, we both feel it. The atmosphere is a lot lighter, no tension. The air of alcohol smells has cleared, and the curtains are drawn far open to let the sun in instead of the darkness of cool that used to be. We are both different, I guess that's what feels the most changed. We're different people now than we were two weeks ago.

"Ready?" Rosalie asks, a gentle smile on her face.

My throat goes tight. "Wait."

She leans back, the last remaining recorder in her hand. Seconds tick by into minutes. I draw in a sharp breath.

"I want to ask you something," I clasp my hands together tightly, they're so sweaty for some reason.

"Go ahead."

"How are you okay right now?"

She grinned, as if she was waiting the entire time for me to ask this. "The answer's simple: I'm not."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying. I don't feel as stable and good as I seem."

I stand up and leave the safety of my chair that's a few feet away from Rosalie. I step toward her, and then, I sit on the floor near her legs. I gaze up at her, so many questions in my mind I want to ask that I don't know how.

"Fine. Let me rephrase the question: How are you so well enough right now after everything Maeve has put you through?" The defiance in me gone, I add: "What she has put both of us through."

She bites her bottom lips, then, climbing out of her comfortable chair, she sits down on the floor criss-crossed beside me. There's no more itchy carpets, the cleaners have gotten rid of it. The marble floor is cool against our skins.

Rosalie takes the recorder and sets it between us. "I'm going to rehab. I'm going to go for Carlise. But more for myself. I think it's about trying, really. How hard are you willing to make that change in your life? To make it easier for those around you? Through the days at the hospital, with everyone around me, I realized that this is not the end. That is the big difference between Maeve and us, Izzy."

Her hazel eyes stay sharp and tuned. The wind and breeze from the window blows nicely against the back of my neck.

"Maeve saw only the end. She saw life as a finish line. But that's not the truth. The race to life stretches on for infinity, because what matters isn't the race you're in. It's about the experience you go through during it. What Maeve wasn't able to see or enjoy was the nice views that happened along the way as she rushed through the passages of her life, fighting to win at something that wasn't there. When she realized, it was far too late and she just gave up. But not us, Izzy, not us. Her story is a story after all, it's a lesson. And it is left to us for the truths she never told, but I think how I see it now, more importantly, is that it was to lead us to a better way Maeve never got herself. It's not left to leave us ruined. It's left as her last source of hope, the only thing she thought she could give."

I feel a small understanding for the first time in days. No hatred, jealousy, any of that. I gaze up at Rosalie's face, and what I see is what I think she has been holding back.

"You'll be okay, I promise." Rosalie reaches her hand over the recorder to hold mine. "But if you're not after it's over, I'll be here to help. You won't be alone."

I nod, unable to utter the words that should be spoken. Right now, I'm too emotional. And more or so, I think I'm going to miss Rosalie in my days alone here.

"Now, are you ready? I'll try to stay for as long as I can with you before I have to go."

I nod again, taking in a deep breath. She hits the recorder, the slow sound showing that it's starting to play.

Rosalie holds my hand as Maeve's voice fills the air.