Read When We Were Sisters Online

Authors: Emilie Richards

When We Were Sisters (17 page)

Hal left us in the car and went to see how long the wait might be. Donny had called ahead to be sure we could get in eventually.

We chatted about the film and where we might go next. Mick's arrangements are still iffy, and our next destination isn't yet clear. Getting permission to film and interview isn't always easy. That's part of the reason he works the way he does. Firm plans could crack wide-open, so it's more productive to remain fluid. If he can't find what he needs in one place, he can go to another while he waits. Sometimes after longer negotiations he might be successful.

“Thanksgiving's just a couple of weeks away,” I said. “Are you looking forward to going home?”

“Pet and I are going to make all the family favorites, even though Kris's parents won't be joining us. Nik will help, too, if we can get him in the kitchen. Where are you going to spend the holiday?”

We both know I won't be spending it with her, although sometimes I have in the past. The year I divorced Sage I was her guest for an entire week, but this year she doesn't need me hovering as her family attempts a normal celebration.

I haven't given the matter much thought, but when she asked I knew the answer. “Sanibel.” The moment I said it, my decision was made. “Gizzie loves Sanibel, so he'll come. He's promised to work with me on a song for the film. Mick's beside himself with joy.”

Gizzie Wray is my songwriting collaborator, and our work relationship and friendship go back to my early years in New York. He swears he discovered me, and I love him too much to correct him. We were once constant companions, fellow members of Slaughter Street, my first and remarkably unsuccessful band. Only when we accidentally began to write songs together did the magic commence.

“Perfect,” Robin said. “A guarantee you'll have fun. What about Donny?”

“What about him?”

“Will you invite him, too?”

“Donny has a life.”

“Really? Because I get the feeling his life revolves around you.”

“Don't go there. I'm just the cash cow.”

“You think?”

“I
know
. I think he's still living with some interior designer who owns a beach house in Malibu. Every time he goes home she's changed the color of the walls. I know he rents a slip for his sailboat not too far up the coast.”

“You
think
?”

It's not my job to keep track of Donny's personal life. I do know he hasn't mentioned her in a long time.

Hal came back to tell us our table was ready. I slipped on my wig. Robin straightened it for me, laughing at the final product. I donned the granny glasses. “Okay?”

“No one will believe that's really your hair.”

“For all we know this is a popular style in these parts.”

We got out and scurried through a cold drizzle to the entrance, which was a stone's throw from a cheerful bar. I liked the feel of the place. Casual, warm, friendly. A young woman hugging menus showed us to a booth. Hal said he would eat at the counter.

I learned a long time ago not to expect a vegan offering in rural America. But the restaurant did offer portobello mushrooms in place of meat on their salads, and when I asked our server to leave off the cheese she was more than willing. Robin got fish tacos and ordered a beer from the local Southern Tier microbrewery, which the server recommended.

I caught her just as she was about to leave. “I'll take one, too. Same kind, same size.”

The young woman tilted her head and stared at me. “You know what? You kind of remind me of somebody.”

“Really?” I smiled without showing my teeth, since my natural smile is supposedly a dead giveaway.

She examined me for a long moment. “Did anybody ever tell you you look like Madonna?”

I widened my eyes. “Really?”

“Like when she was younger. Maybe it's the hair.” She turned and left.

Robin was laughing softly.

“I don't think Madge would be at all pleased to hear I'm impersonating her,” I said. “Of course she'd be even less pleased if someone thought she was impersonating
me
.”

“This is unusual,” Robin said. “Not the Madonna sighting. You drinking beer, I mean.”

“It's been that kind of day. If I turn into my mother right before your eyes, you'll roll me out the door and into the car?”

“Hal and I will get you right to detox.”

I make jokes about Maribeth because I'm in no danger of forgetting her. If I have to carry her in my head, at least I can mute my memories with black humor. Robin understands.

“So back to Donny,” she said. “I think you should invite him for Thanksgiving.”

“Donny needs a break. The whole mess in Australia was awful. Canceling appearances, trying to keep my condition out of the press, holding my hand during therapy sessions.”

“He held your hand in therapy?”

“You have to stop this. Donny and I are not a couple. I tried the couple thing, remember?”

“Donny is not Sage Callahan.”

“Of course not. Donny has a voice like a buzz saw.”

“Gizzie will bring his partner, right?”

Gizzie has been out of the closet since he was twelve years old and was still known as Gunther. For the past ten years he's been the soul of monogamy with a guy named Pat, a top producer in the world of rock music.

“I'm sure Pat will be with him,” I said.

“So
you'll
need somebody. Three is awkward.”

“This conversation is awkward.”

Robin held up her hands in defeat. Our server returned with mugs of beer and we toasted.

“Best beer ever,” Robin said.

I had to agree.

“So this is a different conversation,” she went on. “But if Donny's not for you, is there a guy who might be?”

“Nobody who's made it past three encounters.”

“I don't think I want to know what
encounter
entails.”

“We used to call encounters dates. But the men I meet aren't into movies, a Coke and a good-night kiss. So I call them encounters. It's more like Sumo wrestling. One person trying to knock the other off his feet. Or hers.”

“Three times is the charm?”

“Three times is about as long as I ever want to engage.”

“Is this because of Sage? Because you never really seem angry when you talk about him.”

I liked the way the beer tickled as I swallowed. If you don't drink very often, the buzz is greater. I was already feeling more relaxed, and when our server reappeared, we both ordered a second. “If I tell you a secret, and I do mean a secret, you'll keep it to yourself? Because I've promised this will never get out.” I paused. “Until it does. From somebody else.”

“Call me one hundred percent reliable.”

“Sage...” I managed a graceful shrug. “He just wasn't into me. I knew it. He knew it. But getting married was such darned good publicity.”

She stared at me, clearly unsure what to ask next.

“Sage likes men better than he likes women,” I said.

“No...”

“Oh yeah.”

“You said you knew it. What did you know? When?”

“Early on. I was like a lot of women. I hoped I could convert him.”

Our food and second round came, and we waited until the server left and we were eating before Robin spoke again. “I'm sorry, but I don't believe you.”

“You don't believe Sage is gay? Or bi, depending on how you look at it? Because we did have sex, and for a little while he seemed to enjoy it. More or less.”

“No! I don't believe you were stupid enough to think he'd fall so madly in love with you that he'd lose interest in men.”

“Then what
do
you think?”

“I think if you knew, you didn't really care. If you knew ahead of time, then you didn't marry him because you loved him. You married him because you didn't, and you knew you could get out of it once the publicity waned.”

“Wow, you're good.”

“CeCe! Did
he
know that was your intention?”

I gave up all pretense. “Of course he did. I figured out he was gay just a few weeks into our relationship, but by then the tabloids were filled with speculation. I was a man-eater, and here this hunky country boy with a guitar had finally brought me to my knees. We watched our album sales climb. I made a surprise appearance onstage at one of his concerts, and we sang a duet. The crowd went wild. In my own way I did love him and he loved me, but we loved the publicity best of all. We got even more after we tied the knot.”

Robin's mind was obviously whirring. “And afterward, when you broke up, if his sexuality had ever been in doubt it wasn't anymore, because he'd conquered and married a sexy superstar, which had to prove something.”

“For my part I played up the men-are-two-timing-bastards card, which worked for me, too. You know how many great songs there are about divorce and breakups?”

“You took everybody for a ride.”

“A harmless Sunday drive in the country, Robin. I wish we lived in a world where Sage didn't have to hide who he really is. But he's not ready to come out of the closet. I'm not sure he ever will be.”

“Who else knows?”

I shook my head.

“You mean you didn't tell
anybody
else? Not Donny? Not your therapist.”

“Only my sister. Just now.”

“This is some weird kind of honor, isn't it?”

“There are some things only sisters understand.”

“Even if they're just foster sisters joined at the hip and the heart.”

Clearly she hadn't forgotten the reporter's throwaway remark at the Chelsea, and I knew the “real sister” thing had bothered her in the same way it had bothered me, although we had heard it many times before.

And that's when I got one of my best ideas ever. I waited until she was halfway through her tacos before I proposed it.

“I know a great way to end this evening.”

“They don't have vegan ice cream here.”

“I was thinking about something that lasts longer.”

“When you get that gleam in your eye, we're in trouble.”

This time I did show my teeth. “You're going to love this, Robin, trust me.”

Hal came over to see how we were doing, and I asked him to pay our check. “And while you're at it,” I added as he started to turn away, “will you find the name of the best tattoo parlor in the area.”

“Oh, no,” Robin said. “Count me out. Not happening. No way, CeCe.”

I smiled radiantly and finished my beer.

21

Robin

Even as a child desperate for affection I never did everything Cecilia told me to. I am certainly mature enough these days to say no with real force. The thing is, the more I considered it, the more matching tattoos appealed to me.

Or maybe it was that second beer, the one that tasted so good with my tacos?

Whatever the reason, Cecilia and I now have matching tattoos on our hips. They are tasteful and delicate, sweet little hearts with an infinity sign bisecting them. Written into the infinity sign is the word
sisters
.

Even though Cecilia is taller than I am, the artist made certain that anytime we stand side by side and our hips touch, our tattoos will touch, as well.

Joined at the hip.

Cecilia wanted the tattoos inked on our breasts, over our hearts. I had a feeling Kris might not want to be reminded of Cecilia every time we make love. Hips are less intimate, and hopefully soon enough he'll forget the tattoo is there.

If Kris and I ever again have occasion to get naked together.

Kris is the master of bad timing. He called from his cell phone while I was getting my tattoo, so I knew it wasn't one of our children. Since I'm not a fan of pain I was in no position to answer, and when Cecilia volunteered to answer for me I told her not to. But now I'm back in my room with my phone. I just set the alarm so I'll know when to remove my bandage and begin aftercare. Nothing sounds complicated; keeping the tattoo clean, dry and lightly lubricated is all I need to know.

Cecilia is no tattooed Lady Gaga, but the whole process was old hat for her. In addition to permanent eyeliner, she has a cascade of stars on the back of her neck and a Celtic tree of life tattoo above her right ankle to symbolize her connection to the earth and harmony with all living things. On a completely different note she has a viper tattooed on her left-hand ring finger, inked there the day her divorce from Sage was final. Now as I tapped Kris's number and waited, I wondered if Sage helped her come up with the snake to enhance publicity.

When exactly did she learn to be so casually devious?

The phone rang so long that I thought I might need to leave a message, but just as I prepared to, Kris answered.

It seems like forever since I've heard his voice. I didn't even check voice mail. Whatever he needed to say I wanted to hear in person.

“Hey,” I said. “I couldn't answer when you called.” I decided explaining
why
was not a great conversation starter. “But I'm back in my room now. How are you?”

“I guess you didn't listen to my message, did you?”

I was ready for something a little more intimate, a softer, warmer tone. Not staccato bursts that sounded as if he was biting off each word and spitting it across the miles.

“No...o...o... I wanted to listen to
you
. In person. Apparently I made a mistake?”

“This is anything but a catch-up call.”

I sat up. Then this was not a call to recline in bed for. “Are the children all right?”

“That depends on how you look at it, Robin. One of them—our daughter, in fact—had a stash of marijuana in her dresser drawer.”

For a moment I couldn't process what he'd said. I was silent.

“Did you hear me?”

“I heard you. I'm trying to make sense of it. Can you start at the beginning?”

“I more or less did. I took her laundry upstairs tonight and decided to put it away while she finished brushing her teeth. When I moved things around to make room, I found a plastic bag with marijuana. I opened it and found some suspicious-looking pills, too.”

“Does Pet know?”

“What do you think?”

I was moving quickly from distress to anger. “What I think is that I'm in New York, you're in Virginia and I need some answers that don't come with a side helping of self-righteousness.”

He followed an audibly frustrated sigh with, “Pet says she doesn't know where it came from.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Would you?”

“It's always better to follow a question with an answer, not another
question
. They may not have taught you that in law school.”

Sigh two. “I did not believe her.”

“I'm sure you told her.”

“I did. And she continues to insist she doesn't know how it got there, even though she burst into tears the moment she saw I found it. Not the reaction you expect from a child who has no idea what Daddy found under her favorite Minion T-shirt.”

I knew that shirt. A bright yellow one, with a goofy Minion smile. Pet had loved
Despicable Me
, and still did. Pet was a child. Pet was not a drug abuser. “Had you gone into that drawer lately?”

“Right. I have all the time in the world to straighten my children's clothing, Robin.”

I took a deep breath. When he didn't apologize I said, “Look, when you're willing to have a civil discussion and problem solve with me, we'll talk again. But I'm not going to be your whipping girl.” I clicked End and put the phone on my nightstand.

I wasn't sure which family member to be most upset with. My daughter, who was lying to protect somebody—I was sure of that. Or my husband.

I'd had the idea that Kris and I were adjusting to the change in our relationship, and I had told myself that as adults who loved each other we would find ways to compromise. Now I seriously doubted I was right. Kris was so angry he wasn't going to simply adjust. He was going to drag me down until I gave up hope of going back to my career. By the time this gig finished I wouldn't dare find another.

Or one of us would find a divorce lawyer.

The phone buzzed. I considered not answering, but in the end I took a chance.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “You're right.”

I was so stunned I took the high road. “Let's start over, okay?”

“The last time I opened that particular drawer was last summer. I got out a change of clothes for her because you asked me to. You were driving her to a pool party.”

“I've put things inside her drawers since then. I usually leave the laundry on her bed, but I think I went ahead and put away clothes right before I left.” I thought about it. “I'm sure I did. I would have noticed a stash of drugs.”

“You probably would have. It wasn't well hidden.”

“So we don't really know where the drugs came from. But they weren't there before I left. Can we figure out who's been in the house in the past week and a half?”

“The kids. Elena. Me. Those are the obvious ones.”

I let him continue thinking, because like any good lawyer, he's thorough to a fault.

“Nik hasn't had a friend over since you left,” he continued after a moment. “He's gone to Brandon's, though. Maybe Brandon has been here while I've been gone. I can check with Elena and Grace.”

“If the owner was one of Nik's friends wouldn't the drugs be in his room?” I paused as something else he'd said hit me. “Grace?”

“Jody's sister. She's babysitting evenings and Saturday mornings now when I need her.”


Grace
is your babysitter?” Kris and I hadn't spoken since he hired extra help. Pet had said something in passing about a babysitter, but I hadn't followed up. Maybe I hadn't wanted to because I was in no position to critique Kris's choice, and I just assumed he would use someone from my list.

“When I realized I was going to need someone in addition to Elena I asked Pet who she wanted, and she said Grace. She said Grace was—” I could hear him struggling for the precise word “—cool, but not too cool. I interviewed her, and she's had lots of experience with her own sister and some kids in her neighborhood. She's always on time, available when I need her and she's saving for a car, so she needs the money. The house is still standing when I get home.”

I knew better than to criticize him for not consulting me. I wanted Kris to take charge. And look how thoroughly he'd done so.

Instead I inched my way in. “She babysat for us a couple of times last summer.”

“I think Pet told me that.”

“Kris, the second time, her twin came over and apparently called Taiwan or Hong Kong on our phone, I don't remember which one now. Some place our calling plan doesn't exactly cover. When I got home that day Grace didn't tell me he'd been there. I only found out about the call when the bill came. I saw it took place on the day Grace babysat, so I cornered her the next time I picked up Pet at their house. She finally admitted it was Gil.”

“Did you tell me this?”

I tried to remember. “I think you were out of town or in the middle of a case and didn't want to be disturbed. But that's why Grace wasn't one of the sitters on my list.”

“Pet never told you Grace was helping out?”

“I didn't ask for a name. I didn't want to sound like I was checking up on you, and I bet Pet didn't want me to know. She knew about that phone call. So when I didn't ask, she didn't volunteer.”

“Illegal drugs and a telephone call are two different things.” His voice said something else, because in the end he really was a father first, but lawyer was a close second.

“Like two different-sized peas in the same pod?”

“Pet won't talk to me. She probably would talk to you.”

“I'll be happy to try. Is she still up?”

“I don't mean on the phone.”

And here it was again. We had a crisis on our hands, and only I could solve it. In person.

If I actually believed my daughter was using drugs, then I would already be on my way to the nearest airport, or to a rental agency to find a car for the drive home tonight. But I didn't believe it. I was almost sure I knew what had happened.

“The problem with talking to Pet at the moment is that we're forcing her to take sides,” I said. “She has to learn to take the right side, but at her age going against a friend's sister and brother? Her best friend at that? It's so hard. And she probably worships Grace. After all, she asked you to hire her.”

“So, Robin? You have a solution here?”

“I'd like us to come up with one together.”

“I'm so exhausted my brain isn't even processing this call.”

Kris never complains. Or he never used to. But I heard what amounted to a cry for help. Maybe it was time to throw him a life preserver. I had been out for a fun dinner and a stop at the tattoo parlor, and Kris had been dealing with a ten-year-old's drug stash. Maybe in years past
he'd
gotten the dinners out and I'd gotten the crises. But that didn't mean I had to let him suffer.

“Let me do what I can from this end. We'll talk in the morning and figure out the rest of it. Will that work for you?”

“What are you going to do from there?”

“Have a heart-to-heart with Lynette. Jody and the twins' mom,” I added, in case he didn't remember her name.

“You know her well enough?”

“She's reasonable. I should have told her about the phone call, but Grace promised Gil would pay me back, and she showed up the next day with the cash, so I let it go because I didn't want the whole thing to blow back on Pet.”

“This time we can't sit back.”

He was right. “Gil's been in trouble with the law. Nothing so bad that I worry about Pet being at their house. Lynette keeps an eye on things there. But he got in with a tough crowd in high school, and some of those kids are still his friends. She's told me she worries about him.”

“You're pretty sure he had something to do with this?”

“With a little help from Grace and Pet.”

“How am I going to talk to Pet about this? What in the hell should I do about her lying to me?”

In the midst of our mutual anxiety I heard “I.” Twice. I had extended a hand to help, and as a result he was no longer expecting me to take care of everything. Exhausted or not, Kris was stepping up to the plate.

If it weren't so late at night I would dig for the lesson there.

“I'll call Lynette,” I said. “You go to bed. We'll talk in the morning and figure out what to do next.”

He didn't answer right away. When he did, he surprised me.

“I miss you.”

I wanted to ask what he missed. Having me take charge of all family problems, the way I had for years? Having me talk to our children face-to-face so he wouldn't have to?

Or maybe, just maybe, he missed
me.
The woman he married. The one he swore to love and honor.

I knew which Kris I missed. The one who used to be truly present in my life. The one who rubbed my feet when I was pregnant, and watered his newborn son's and daughter's bare skin with sentimental tears. The one who hadn't been busy every minute working his way up the career ladder.

“I miss you, too.”

“How did all this happen?”

He wasn't talking about Pet. Now tears filled
my
eyes. I cleared my throat. “A little at a time. While we weren't paying attention.”

“Do you ever wish you could start all over?”

“Only if I could start with you.”

“We'll talk tomorrow.”

I put the phone on my nightstand. The tattoo was throbbing, but not as much as my heart. There was no bandage for that, no ointment to soothe it. I would just have to live with this pain until Kris and I figured out who we were to each other again.

Other books

Dawn Patrol by Jeff Ross
Stolen-Kindle1 by Gemus, Merrill
Split Second by Douglas E. Richards
When Fate Dictates by Elizabeth Marshall
Death of a Squire by Maureen Ash
The Grand Banks Café by Georges Simenon
Last Message by Shane Peacock
Past Due by William Lashner
Savior of Istara by Pro Se Press