All for a Sister (42 page)

“Instead—” Celeste brought her cool, perfect hand to her hot, tearstained face—“I was given a life. Can you think of any other paths that would bring us to this place?”

“No.” Not outside of the orchestrations of God, though she hated the litter of sacrifices left along the way. She leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and looked down to see Werner silhouetted in the light of the burning torches. He was sitting, elbows propped on his knees, his head touched to his clasped hands. Deep in thought, possibly deep in prayer, and she relished this time to study him openly.

“He likes you, you know,” Celeste said, with all the wisdom and assurance of youth.

“Do you think so?”

“And he thinks you’re beautiful. I can tell.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Just then, he looked up, straight into the window, and the warmth of his gaze carried like torchlight through the glass. Dana lifted her hand in a small wave.

“Go down to him.” She accompanied her command with a sisterly nudge.

“But we still have so much to talk about.”

“Do we?” Celeste seemed to gather herself for a declaration, sitting a bit taller before she spoke. “When I make a movie, I’m the same
person
I was in the last film. You know, same me—flesh and bone and whatnot. But I’m playing a new character. So everything I thought and knew about that old character has to kind of die off. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Dana said, but she didn’t. Not really.

“The way I see it, you and I—up until this point—we were living a story. And now, tonight, everything’s changed. Everything we knew, or thought we knew. Our past—it’s different.”

“A new story.”

Celeste nodded with the exuberance of a child and grasped her hands. “Starring Celeste DuFrane and Dana Lundgren as sisters. Tonight is act one, scene one. Nothing before that existed.”

This time, when they fell into each other’s arms, it was an embrace grown out of the same root and fused again with affection and promise.

“But we have to promise each other something,” Celeste said as they pulled away. “We can’t ever lie to each other. About anything. There’s been enough of that already.”

“Agreed.”

“Now—” Celeste gave a stronger nudge—“go downstairs and kiss that man good night. It’s getting late, and I have a reputation to uphold.”

Dana smiled, kissed her little sister’s cheek, and ran down the stairs at a rate twice that which had taken her up, and was surprised to see Celeste right on her heels, saying, “There’s just one more thing I want to do.”

She moved ahead, and Dana followed her through the kitchen. Celeste scooped the papers containing her mother’s confession off the table and continued out to the patio, where Graciela and Werner appeared to be in easy conversation.

“Where are the other pages?” Celeste asked, not mindless of her interruption.

“Oh, Celita,” Graciela pleaded with anguished concern, “do not trouble yourself—”

“Here.” Werner handed them over without ceremony.

Celeste took them in one hand and, with the other, led Dana from beneath the cover of the patio, onto the narrow stone pathway of the yard, where they could look up into the stars. She held out the folio, and through a mysterious understanding, Dana held it too, until the sisters were joined not only by their grasp on each other, but their grip of Marguerite DuFrane’s account of bitterness and lies.

“Mother,” Celeste said to the sky, “we have read your words, and we forgive you.”

Dana, too, looked to the stars and the moon but knew her answer didn’t wait in the heavens. Instead, she closed her eyes, bowed her head, and gripped Celeste’s hand ever tighter, inviting her into her prayer.

“Father God, send your Holy Spirit with an anointing of peace to our mothers. And our sister. Until that day when we will find each other in your presence.”

“Amen,” Celeste said, making Dana’s heart swell with expectation of the journey they would take together to fulfill that destiny.

For now, she loosened her grip on the confession but walked hand in hand with her sister back to the patio, where Celeste gave her over to Werner’s casual embrace.

“That was beautiful,” he said, drawing her close.

Graciela made the sign of the cross, saying, “May all their good souls rest in peace.”

“Amen,” Celeste said again, this time with stronger conviction. Then, without another word, she threw her mother’s tragic tale of anguished deception on the glowing coals in the chimenea. There was an immediate burst of flame, then a blackening and a curling.

“Once upon a time there were two sisters,” Celeste said as a latent flame ate the last of Marguerite’s tortured script.

Dana watched too. “And they lived happily ever after.”

THIS IS ONE OF
those stories born from the question
What if . . . ?
It’s no secret that I’ve long been fascinated with the 1920s. Such a fabulous decade. Such a decadent decade. And yet we know the roots of evangelism held strong. Whether talking about one of my books or teaching one of my classes, I always visit the idea of the Twenties mindful of the swift, sweeping changes: hemlines, communication, transportation, values, norms, vocabulary—everything made new within half a generation.

But what if you missed it? What if you were dropped, like a time traveler, into this world you knew nothing about? Thus, Dana was born.

I have to admit it was a blast to write a character as deliciously amoral as Marguerite DuFrane. And I’ve been waiting for the chance to lurk around the movie sets of a newly minted Hollywood. Alas, with this novel, I bid farewell to the very real Aimee Semple McPherson, and I will always be grateful to Bill Jensen (aka Agent Bill) for introducing her to me. Also, sadly, I’ll be stepping away from Roland Lundi—a character I’ve grown to love as much as any romantic hero.

I’m off to new stories, and I hope you’ll follow me! Look me up on my website,
www.allisonpittman.com
, or find me on Facebook (
Allison Pittman Author Page
) and Twitter (
@allisonkpittman
).

1. All for a Sister
   is a story of secrets. Discuss the ways in which various characters were hurt by the secrets that were kept from them. Was anyone helped or protected by the secrets? Is there ever a time when keeping a family secret is the best course of action?
   
2. Young Celeste knows from an early age that she wants to be an actress. In what ways has she been an actress all her life?
   
3. Would you classify Marguerite DuFrane as a villain? Why or why not? Do you feel any sympathy for her?
   
4. Do you think that Dana’s inheritance is fair compensation for Marguerite’s actions? What more could she have done? Why didn’t she?
   
5. After the death of Arthur DuFrane, Celeste is left without a father, and Dana never knew her father at all. In what ways do Werner Ostermann, Christopher Parker, and Roland Lundi help to fill these roles in the girls’ lives? Has God ever provided someone to fill a key role in your own life in an unconventional way?
   
6. Both Celeste and Dana are familiar with the story
   Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
   . Why would each of them be drawn to this story?
   
7. Marguerite DuFrane believes there is a connection between her emotional bitterness and the physical devastation of cancer. What role do you think our emotional and spiritual health plays in our physical well-being?
   
8. What do you think was Graciela’s motivation for removing the pages from Marguerite’s confession detailing the birth of Celeste and the death of her mother?
   
9. Graciela presents an ethical quandary. Does the revelation of her relationship with Arthur DuFrane change your view of her relationship with Celeste? How do you think it will affect her relationship with Celeste going forward?
   
10. Imagine you’d been cut off from all the social and technological innovations of the past twenty years. Which would you find to be the most exciting? Which would be the most intimidating?
    

Award-winning author
ALLISON PITTMAN
left a seventeen-year teaching career in 2005 to follow the Lord’s calling into the world of Christian fiction, and God continues to bless her step of faith. Her novels
For Time and Eternity
and
Forsaking All Others
were both finalists for the Christy Award for excellence in Christian fiction, and her novel
Stealing Home
won the American Christian Fiction Writers Carol Award. In 2012, she was named ACFW’s mentor of the year. She heads up a successful, thriving writers’ group in San Antonio, where she lives with her husband, Mike, their three sons, and the canine star of the family—Stella.