They aren’t the perfect words, maybe for either of us. No words will mean exactly what I want them to, but for now, these will do. I reach over and find her hand and hold it and she holds my hand back.

We stay like that for a while.

Then she says, “Show me the rest.”

I turn to her and give her my best full-on, wide, emoji-worthy, puppy-dog grin. “Okay!”

She laughs.

I slide the camera back up toward us, click on the display screen, and we start from the beginning. I show her the shoe picture from Café du Monde. We look at pictures of the graveyard, pictures of trees on the side of the road whipping past, and the high-angle shot I took of Ruth in her bed. We linger on the silhouetted picture of Ruth and the little girl at the aquarium.

When we get through all the pictures, Ruth leans back in the bed and closes her eyes. “So, Miss Travel Photographer,” she says, “where are we headed to next?”

“Either New Zealand, for the diving, or London, when you and the internationally renowned band you write for go on your grand European tour.”

“Eight-week tour, minimum,” she says.

“I’ll take pictures of you and the band on Abbey Road.”

She rolls her eyes the friendly way. “Duh, of course. If…” She pauses, looks down at our hands, then back at me, then back at our hands. I think she’s trying to find the right words for something. Finally she just sticks out her tongue in faux annoyance and says, “If you don’t bug me too much before then.”

Maybe it’s the rain, maybe it’s her music, or maybe I’m just getting better at it, but this time I think I know what she’s trying to say:

If I’m up for traveling. For anything. For leaving the house. It’s unknown and uncertain waters, sis. That’s what she’s saying.

Here’s what I’ve learned about The Pit. You don’t really have a choice about falling into it. You just do.

Maybe one day we’ll go to New Zealand or London.

Maybe we’ll watch Edward Scissorhands and The Twilight Zone for three weeks.

I’ll be there, either way. Holding on to the rigging.

“I’m sorry,” Ruth says again. “I’m sorry you were worried.”