Jenna leaned across the table, her features scrunched in earnest. “Did he tell Beth he was going?”
“Oh, honey.” Claire grasped her hand. Jenna was talking more about her own husband. Last year, Kevin had rejoined the military without telling Jenna until after the fact. “Kevin apologized for not telling you.”
“That doesn’t exactly help at the moment while he’s over there getting shot at!”
“I know.” She squeezed her hand and let go. “According to Nana, BJ and Beth made the decision together.”
Max said, “He promised her he would come home.” His voice cracked. His dark eyes shone. “That’s what she told me. He was such a purest, I know he never broke a promise in his life.”
Claire watched him blink back tears. “And that’s why Papa can’t accept Tuyen’s story. Uncle BJ always kept his word. Even if he couldn’t make it home, he wouldn’t have cheated on Beth. Their commitment was old-fashioned, like in ancient days when people were betrothed. It meant the same as being married.”
Danny fidgeted in his seat. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know war does strange things to a man’s mind. Would he have wanted her to see him burned and maimed? Would he have wanted to dump that horror on her? Saddled her with that kind of future?”
Claire stared at him.
Danny kept talking. “Not to mention the psychological scars. I mean, he flew Phantoms, right? It’s no secret he bombed and killed people. Add to that getting shot down and not being rescued by your own country. Imagine the number that would play on your psyche. Who knows what was going on in the poor guy’s head?”
No one said a word.
Danny shrugged. “I vote for Tuyen. It doesn’t subtract anything from Uncle BJ’s reputation. Not for me anyway.”
Of course Danny had heard the same stories Claire had. BJ attacked life with a zealousness that both charmed and annoyed others. If he got into trouble, it was only because of his great big heart.
Odd. She’d never noticed before how that description sounded an awful lot like his nephew Danny.
D
anny’s summary ended the conversation about Uncle BJ and Tuyen and Beth Russell. There seemed to be nothing to add.
Abruptly, Erik stood. “Well, I vote for going home. Jen? You’re the one with the
car.”
“We should help Mom clean up first.”
Wordlessly Erik began to collect plates. The other three followed suit. Carrying things to the counter, they all appeared to be in a hurry. Claire didn’t blame them for wanting to get away from the difficult talk as soon as possible.
The thought crossed her mind to tell them they needn’t bother with the dishes, but then she saw Max massaging his fingertips against his forehead. Was he getting a migraine? He hadn’t had one in several months. She felt a twinge of panic. Had they even unpacked his medication since moving to the hacienda? Where would it be?
The panic tied itself into an anxious knot in her stomach.
And what of the kids? They needed her. She should stay with them, help in the kitchen that was still unfamiliar to them. She should comfort and hug them, walk them outside to the car.
She should check on Indio and Tuyen. And Ben! She should call. Had he made supper for himself? The dog and the cat usually hung out with him. Surely he’d fed them?
Max rose slowly to his feet and moved across the room toward the door.
The matriarchal weight pressed in upon her again.
“God is good.” She echoed her mother-in-law’s old phrase. The words slipped out with no conscious thought.
Scattered about the kitchen, her family turned as one and looked at her.
The heaviness lifted. The knot untwisted.
She shrugged. “Well, He is good. What else can I say? We will get through this.”
Swiftly, she went to her children and, in turn, planted a kiss on four cheeks and said four times, “Love you. Thanks for cleaning up. Good night.”
Then she went to Max by the door, kissed him, and whispered, “Let’s go tuck you into bed, honey.”
His eyes mere slits, he said hoarsely, “You just quoted my mom.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“If you start dressing like her, we will have a huge problem.”
She laughed.
T
he morning after delivering the bombshell to the hacienda, Lexi, Danny, Erik, and Jenna met at a restaurant for breakfast. The previous day still hovered over them like a dark cloud.
“Hey.” Danny whispered in Lexi’s ear.
She ignored him. Like that would stop him from speaking.
“I thought you swore to never, ever,
ever
meet with all your siblings at the same time again?”
She wrinkled her nose and took another bite of waffle.
“Does this mean sib socializing has been promoted? Oh wow. No way! Is it true?”
Danny could recite Hamlet’s soliloquy in a hoarse whisper and not miss one dramatic nuance.
He continued at her ear. “Sakes alive! It might be true! Sib socializing is now officially”—he inhaled sharply—“an acceptable activity?”
“Danny!” The exasperated complaint burst from Jenna.
Erik said, “Dan, can you pay attention and not mouth off for just two minutes? Huh?”
“Sure.” He leaned back against the booth, one arm stretched behind Lexi. “I didn’t think I was interrupting. I mean, we’ve rehashed this scenario for the past forty-five minutes. Do any of you have anything new to add to the conversation?”
Glares went round the table.
Lexi noticed a busboy hovering nearby and wondered if he wanted to clear their table. “Jen.” She lifted her fork. “You want that pancake?”
“How can you eat at a time like this?”
Erik set down his water glass. “Give us a break, Jen, and drop the huff. We’re all getting through this in our own way. I drink, Lexi eats, you turn shrew, Danny does an incredible imitation of two magpies yapping at once.”
Danny said, “I’m praying too.”
“Uh-oh. Now he’s going into his Nana routine.”
“Make fun all you want, Erik. But God knows what’s what. He works something good out of even the messes we make, if we let Him.”
“Aye, there’s the rub.”
“What have you got to lose except your false sense of being cool?”
“Whatever.” Erik seldom rose to the bait when Danny challenged him on faith. “So what do you and God propose we do with this new cousin of ours? Besides drink, eat, yap, and be shrewish?”
Lexi swallowed a bite of pancake and resisted an urge to scoop bacon from her twin’s plate. When had Erik noticed her eating habits?
Danny said, “I think—”
“God and I aren’t on speaking terms.” Jenna interrupted. “Kevin is running around in a blazing-hot foreign desert wearing a flak jacket and a helmet and carrying a loaded rifle, all of which will do so much good if a bomb blows his truck to kingdom come.”
As usual, Jenna positioned herself as the center of attention. Lexi snagged bacon from Danny’s plate—he’d never minded sharing with her—and popped it into her mouth. She could always skip lunch.
Danny said, “Jenna, joining up was Kevin’s choice. God didn’t make him go.”
“He could have stopped him.”
“He doesn’t make us do or not do anything. We get to choose. Kevin did what he thought he was supposed to do. Just like Uncle BJ did.”
“Don’t you dare compare him to Uncle BJ!” Jenna wailed. “Uncle BJ got shot down! And now, come to find out, he wasn’t all that missing, was he? And we’re stuck with some stranger invading our family! And of all times! With Mom and Dad’s life in an upheaval. Selling their house. Selling the business. Moving up to the hacienda, of all places. Getting remarried. What a royal mess!”
“Hold on, Jen,” Danny said. “It’s not exactly a mess, royal or otherwise. We have to admit, Mom and Dad are doing better than ever. Why not let them do their thing? Whining about a re-wedding isn’t going to help. And what is Tuyen to us? We may never know her full story or even if half of it’s true. Maybe she’ll show up for Christmas dinner. I vote we all just calm down and give the poor girl a chance. At least welcome her to America.”
Erik laid money on the table and slid from the booth. “I vote for getting on with my life. I think I need a job.”
Jenna said, “I vote for moping and grading papers.”
Lexi set down her fork. “You okay?” She made eye contact and felt a brief connection with her sister.
“Moping alone does wonders for shrews.” She twisted her mouth into a crooked smile. “What’s your vote?”
“Um, to paint, I guess. It’s Saturday. It’s raining.”
Danny said, “I’m going up to the house, see how everyone’s doing. You want to come, Lex?”
Suddenly she’d had enough of Danny’s opinions. Maybe it was lack of sleep. Maybe it was a stranger from Vietnam. Whatever.
“No, I don’t want to go,” she said.
“Papa could probably use your company,” Danny urged. “The gardens always need attention these days.”
“Danny, I don’t want to go. I don’t think I ever want to go there again.”
He stared at her.
Erik
let out a low whistle. “She speaks.”
And she continued to speak. “Papa’s a grown man, and it’s too rainy to work outdoors. Tuyen may be a long-lost cousin, but I don’t care to see her today or tomorrow. I’ll think about Christmas. Excuse me.” She pushed at Danny’s arm until he moved off the bench seat.
With her heart in her throat as well as breakfast, Lexi hurried from the restaurant.
That was definitely the last sib socializing with any of them, together or separate, forever.
Wiping her paint-covered hands on a towel, Lexi looked through her apartment door’s peephole and saw Erik, hand poised to knock again. Or rather pound. With her music blasting at eardrum shattering levels, she wouldn’t have heard him otherwise.
She opened the door, motioning him inside.
He mouthed an exaggerated hello. His dark hair glistened with the rain.
She went to the CD player and lowered the volume.
“No need for that, Lex. We could just read lips.” He grinned. “Don’t your neighbors complain?”
“No. The nearest one is an old woman who’s half deaf. How did you get inside the building?”
“Someone was leaving. So much for security, huh?”
“I guess.”
“You’ve got a dazed look on your face. Either I’m interrupting your work or you can’t believe I’m here.”
“Um.”
“Alexis.” An odd tone in his voice set her name apart, as if it were spoken by a stranger.
She stared at him. Erik was four years older. His life never really intersected with hers beyond family gatherings. She couldn’t remember ever being alone with him in the same room. In her imagination, she pictured him as existing on some far edge of her world, all but out of her peripheral vision.
He’d been the smart, popular athlete. Now he was the charming handsome guy on television. There was no reason for him to pay attention to his mousey little sister who’d barely graduated from high school, dug holes for a living, and painted strange images in her spare time.
But he always spoke her name with the familiarity of a brother. No big deal. Until now.
“Alexis,” he said again.
“What?”
“Let’s sit.” He sat in the overstuffed chair.
She sat on the couch and twisted the hand towel.
“I don’t bite,” he said.
“I know that.”
“Seriously, I don’t.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Now, will you try to be straight with me for once? Either I’m interrupting your painting or you’re flabbergasted that I’m here. Which is it?”
“Both.”
He smiled. “Thank you for speaking your mind. Again. You got a good start at the restaurant.”
She shifted, folding one leg underneath herself. “You’ve never stopped by before.”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
Of course he was in the neighborhood. Her apartment was most centrally located. The four of them had met at a restaurant near her place.
He winked. “Besides that, I’ve never been fired before. Nor have I ever been cheated on by my girlfriend. I never knew I had a cousin from Vietnam. And I never realized before how much you and I are alike.” How weird.
“You just got a funny look on your face, Lex. What are you thinking?”
She shrugged.
“Come on. Stay with me here. Stay open. What are you thinking?” “That it’s so weird you’d say that. Max said the same thing.”
“You still don’t call him Dad.” He held up a hand. “Totally understandable. So what did he say?”
“That he and I are alike.”
“I presume you got the ‘woe is me, forgive me’ speech too?”
She nodded. “He was talking about work ethics.”
“Oh, that.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s a curse we siblings share. Everyone of us works our tails off. It’s how we win his affection, you know, because that’s what’s important to him.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Kind of a nasty way to think of it, isn’t it?”
“Well . . . It’s not exactly warm and fuzzy.”
“Nope.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hazel eyes intense. “Unfortunately, what you and I have in common isn’t warm and fuzzy either.”
She glanced around the small living room. “We have the same last name that belongs to a wacko family.” Her stomach knotted.
“Lexi.” Again he pulled her back.
She looked at him.
“I drink too much. You eat too much and you don’t gain an ounce.” She shrugged a shoulder and twisted the towel, unable to turn from his gaze.
“An eating disorder?”
She tilted her head, a half acknowledgment.
“Can I help?”
She shook her head.
“How long?”
How long . . . She didn’t want to add up the time.
“Years?”
She nodded.
“Danny doesn’t know, does he?”
Her eyes stung.
“Your twin should know. You two are closer than two pods in a pea.”
At the old family joke, Lexi’s breath caught. If she didn’t exhale, the sobs that felt like bricks in her chest would dissipate. They needed air to survive.
Erik moved from his chair and knelt on the floor before her. “I still remember the first time you said that. ‘Two pods in a pea.’” He untwisted the towel from her fingers and laid it on the floor. “I think you were three years old. It was so funny. You were the cutest thing I’d ever seen.”