Chương 9
She looked embarrassed.
"He'd ask me things and remember the answers."
"He did that with everyone."
"No."
She shook her head.
"He did it with me differently."
"Did you enjoy that?"
"Yes."
At least she did not lie.
She rubbed her eyes.
"I hate saying that."
"Good."
"I know."
"When did it start?"
"December twenty-eighth."
Two days after Christmas.
I remembered Daniel disappearing from our apartment that evening to help Eric with a flat tire.
"Where?"
"At the bar near my office."
"You just happened to be there?"
"He texted me."
"So it was planned."
"The drinks were."
"And the rest?"
She hesitated.
"Not until it was."
I laughed once.
"That's a very Claire answer."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you can make anything sound less bad if you put enough words around it."
She stared at me.
I expected her to defend herself.
Instead she nodded.
"Yeah."
That hurt too.
I wanted resistance.
I wanted someone to fight so I could keep being angry without interruption.
"How long before you slept with him again?"
"Four days."
"Did you tell Mark?"
"No."
"Did you tell me?"
She looked at me.
"No."
"Obviously."
"I'm sorry."
"I don't care."
"I know you don't."
"Stop saying you know."
She nodded.
"Okay."
I pressed my fists against my knees.
"Did Daniel love you?"
Claire's mouth opened.
Then closed.
"I don't know."
"Did you love him?"
"No."
Too fast.
I stared at her.
She corrected herself.
"I don't think so."
"Better."
She looked down.
"I liked being chosen."
My throat tightened.
Of all the things she could have said, that one found the exact old bruise.
When we were children, Claire was chosen first for everything.
Teams.
School plays.
Partners.
Photographs with relatives.
She had longer legs, louder opinions, better grades, better hair.
People remembered her.
I was the easier sister.
The one who waited.
The one who adjusted.
I had spent half my life telling myself I did not mind.
Claire said quietly, "That's the worst part."
"What?"
"I knew what it would mean to you."
I stared at her.
She started crying again.
"I knew."
"Then why did you do it?"
"Because for once I wanted something that was yours."
The sentence landed so hard I stood up.
Claire stood too.
"Anna."
"Don't."
"I know how that sounds."
"Do you?"
"Yes."
"No, I don't think you do."
I stepped down onto the walkway.
"You wanted something that was mine?"
"I didn't mean Daniel like property."
"Oh, good."
"I mean your life."
I turned around.
She wiped at her face.
"You always thought I had everything."
"You did."
"No."
"You're really going to do this?"
"I'm not saying I had nothing."
"That is exactly what you're saying."
"I hated how easy you seemed."
I stared at her.
"Easy?"
"You had a job you liked."
"So do you."
"You had friends who didn't compete with you."
"Because I don't turn friendship into a ranking system."
She recoiled.
I kept going.
"You had Mark."
"Mark barely spoke to me."
"Then leave him."
"I should have."
"Yes."
"I know."
"You had Mom and Dad."
"So did you."
Claire laughed bitterly.
"Not like you."
I almost walked back inside.
She said, "You were always the safe one."
I stopped.
"What does that mean?"
"When Dad got sick, you moved back for six months."
"He had cancer."
"I know."
"You were in Chicago."
"I had just started my job."
"So?"
"So I stayed."
"You visited twice."
"I know."
"You don't get to rewrite that."
"I'm not."
Her voice cracked.
"That's the point."
She pressed both hands against her face.
"You did things I didn't do."
I felt some of my anger shift, not disappear, just change shape.
Claire lowered her hands.
"Mom calls you first when she's scared."
"Because I answer."
"I know."
"Dad asks me about insurance and prescriptions because I actually read things."
"I know."
"You hate that they're close to me because I showed up."
"Yes."
Her answer stunned me.
She looked ashamed.
"I hated you for being dependable."
I could not speak.
"I hated that every time I screwed something up, you quietly fixed it."
"You asked me to."
"I know."
"Then what exactly was I supposed to do?"
"Nothing."
She looked at the driveway.
"That's why it made me crazy."
I almost laughed.
"That's insane."
"Yes."
"You're blaming me for helping you."
"I'm telling you why I resented you."
"That's not better."
"No."
She sat back down on the step.
I stayed standing.
"Did you tell Daniel any of this?"
"Some."
My stomach tightened.
"What did you say about me?"
She looked miserable.
"Things I shouldn't have."
"Specific."
"I told him you always wanted what I had."
I stared at her.
"You believed that?"
"Sometimes."
"Did you tell him I copied you?"
"Yes."
"Did you tell him I was jealous of you?"
"Yes."
"Anything else?"
She hesitated.
That was enough.
"What?"
"I told him you only started dating him because you knew he'd asked me out first."
For a second the street disappeared.
"What?"
Claire's eyes filled again.
"It was years ago."
"Daniel asked you out?"
"Once."
"When?"
"Before you met him properly."
My hands went cold.
"How long before?"
"About two months."
"You said no."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I was already seeing Mark."
I looked toward the house.
Everything rearranged itself again.
Daniel noticing her.
Daniel comparing us.
Daniel calling me a substitute.
It had not begun with the affair.
The affair had merely given something old permission to become cruel.
"Did he tell you he still wanted you?"
"Not at first."
"When?"
"January."
I swallowed.
"What did he say?"
Claire's voice dropped.
"He said he picked the wrong sister."
I closed my eyes.
She started to say my name.
I opened them.
"Don't."
She went silent.
"Did you like hearing that?"
Her face answered first.
Then she whispered, "Yes."
I nodded.
That honesty hurt worse than another lie.
"But later," she said, "it changed."
May you like
"How?"
"He started asking about you all the time."
