Laurie closed the door behind him. All was in order. The suitcases were in the car, and the apartment felt emptier than it was. Laurie, who seemed excited and joyful the whole day, now looked somber. The realization of what was about to come tomorrow finally overcame him as he sulked in the worries of the uncertainty of the situation.
I was already nervous, though that'd be the last thing to show.
Then there was a knock. Laurie was startled. His hand was on the handle as he waited. Another quick knock on the door was followed by Lizzie impatiently asking him to open the door.
He was relieved, and so was I. I had been on edge, terrified that Antonio De Rossi would betray me and that Thomas would come after me.
"You both look guilty," Lizzie put her purse down and raised her eyebrows. "At least pretend like you aren't planning to do something you shouldn't do."
"Did you get the tickets?" Laurie asked broodingly.
"I did," Lizzie sighed. She took out the train tickets from her purse and handed them to Laurie. "You've got a long trip ahead."
"Thank you," Laurie couldn't meet his sister's eye, "for everything."
"I want to be clear that I won't be involved with anything tomorrow. I'm an innocent bystander," she put a cigarette in that enamel holder. "So, I'll be saying my goodbyes tonight."
I struck a match and lit up her cigarette for her. She nodded at me when I took out one for myself.
"Lawrence, look at me," she demanded harshly.
He did out of surprise. I couldn't recall the last time I heard her calling him Lawrence.
"I'd like you to know that I'm proud of you," her tone softened, although not too much to sound sentimental. She let her cigarette burn. "I've always been concerned that your sensitivity and emotions wouldn't make a man out of you. But I'm glad you've proven me wrong."
"I'm still the same," Laurie lowered his head again. "Sometimes, I let it get to me."
"Don't you stare at the floor," Lizzie said. He reluctantly lifted his chin. "Listen, nobody can always be rational, not even Thomas. Having some emotions is a good thing; it makes you human."
"I guess," Laurie said uncertainly as he shrugged.
Lizzie turned to me when I lit up my cigarette. Lizzie never praised anyone for anything. She wouldn't leave her pride at the door if it weren't the end. And I wasn't ready for it.
"You know, I didn't like you at first," she said, "you were just meek. Then over time, it turned out that you're pretty damn resilient."
"Thank you," I tried to smile.
"I see you as a friend," she bit her bottom lip. Her eyes began to turn red. "And I hope, from the bottom of my heart, that you'll be good to my baby brother."
"Lizzie," I faked a snicker, "are you trying to make me cry? Because that's not going to happen."
She didn't have a rebuttal for my tease like I expected. Her brows furrowed and the corners of her painted lips dropped. For the first time in seven years, I saw Lizzie Murphy-Philips weep.
Opening her arms, she quickly walked up to Laurie and me. She pulled us towards her and hugged us tightly. Nothing was said, yet it spoke louder than any words.
"You're making me sad," I patted on her back.
"It's not like we'll never see each other again," Laurie comforted her. "You can visit us in New York whenever you want."
"Yeah," she let us go and stepped back. She wiped her tears, together with her perfect makeup, away and nodded, "you're right. Look at that; I'm the one who's being emotional now."
"And you said having emotions is a good thing," Laurie smiled.
"You're right about that, too," she grabbed her purse from the table. Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to calm herself. "All right, I should get going before anyone asks where I am. Promise me you'll take care of yourselves and be good to each other."
"You're talking to us like we are children," Laurie's hands were in his pockets. I could tell he was doing his best not to show sorrow. "But we promise you, right, Anne?"
I nodded. I couldn't speak. I was overwhelmed by a sense of loss, even though I couldn't comprehend why I felt this way.
"Then," Lizzie sighed and straightened her shoulders, "I'm leaving. Goodnight."
She turned her back to us. She stood still for a moment, then reached for the door handle.
"Lizzie!" I called her name. When she looked back, I ran up to her and hugged her. "Thank you."
"Be good," she said, "be free."
I set her loose. She glanced at Laurie, then me. She smiled for one last time before turning around and left without saying another word.
Laurie and I were left in silence. Neither of us desired to talk about it. This kind of pain was better left unspoken.
Eventually, I managed to speak in my normal voice: "Tomorrow, when the Italians come, I want you to wait inside the car. I'll deal with Thomas, and if it takes too long, then something has gone wrong. And you should start driving."
I had my back to him. I wouldn't be able to say what I wanted if I had faced him.
"No," he objected. "I'll come with you. You've been doing all the work alone, and it is time for me to do my part."
"Please," I begged, "I can't live on if anything happened to you."
He was quiet. I turned my head a little, and all I could hear were the sounds from the streets. We stood still as if competing to see who'd break first.
"Do you think…" he paused. "What makes you think I could live on if anything happened to you?"
I had no answer. He walked up to me and spun me around. In the next second, I was held tightly in his arms.
"Don't be silly," he kissed my forehead. "We're in this together."