Chương 4
Patricia must have heard something in my silence.
“So that’s it?”
“You chose where you needed to be.”
The line remained open.
Neither of us said goodbye.
Eventually she ended the call.
I sat there long enough for my computer screen to dim.
When Sterling came home that night, he found me peeling carrots far more aggressively than dinner required.
“You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“They’re carrots.”
“Carrots have taken down better people.”
I put the peeler on the counter.
“She asked to come.”
His expression shifted.
“Your mom?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“No.”
He opened the refrigerator, stared inside, then closed it without taking anything.
“That didn’t feel good.”
It annoyed me that he knew.
“I didn’t say it was supposed to.”
“You’ve been waiting twenty years to say no to her.”
“Apparently revenge is disappointing.”
“Most things are once you get them.”
I crossed my arms.
“You have experience?”
“I once spent six months trying to get a zoning commissioner removed from a habitat advisory board.”
“What happened?”
“He resigned.”
“And?”
“I missed arguing with him.”
I laughed despite myself.
Sterling leaned against the counter.
“She should be at Savannah’s wedding.”
“I know.”
“And you’re allowed to not rescue her from that choice.”
“I know.”
“But?”
I picked up the peeler again.
“But part of me wanted her to ask before she found out who you were.”
He nodded.
That was why I loved him.
He rarely tried to improve the sentence I had already said.
The next morning, Savannah called.
Unlike Patricia, she waited until lunchtime.
I nearly let it go to voicemail.
Then I remembered that for all her selfishness, my sister was still a person I had once taught to float in our grandparents’ swimming pool.
I answered.
“Hi.”
“You made Mom cry.”
No greeting.
Some traditions survived.
“I didn’t make Mom do anything.”
“She’s been calling everyone.”
“That sounds more like her.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Savannah’s breathing was loud in my ear.
She was probably outside.
“What is this thing with Sterling?”
“What thing?”
“Stop.”
“Savannah, he has a family trust.”
“A huge family trust.”
“I don’t know what number you want me to say.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you just let everyone think he was some park ranger.”
“He has never been a park ranger.”
“You know what I mean.”
Apparently everyone did except me.
She made a small frustrated noise.
“My planner says Marcus Vance was supposed to be our prestige anchor.”
I frowned.
“Your what?”
“That’s what she calls him.”
“That is a terrible phrase.”
“You work with him.”
“Occasionally.”
“Can you ask him to stop by our reception?”
I waited.
Savannah filled the silence quickly.
“Just for an hour.”
“No.”
“He doesn’t even have to stay.”
“No.”
“God, Elena.”
“You invited him because of his money.”
“So?”
“So I’m not going to reroute a wedding guest like a delivery.”
“He wouldn’t even know.”
“He is seventy-one, not unconscious.”
She swore under her breath.
I could hear traffic passing behind her.
Then her tone flattened.
“You enjoy this.”
That caught me.
I wanted to deny it instantly.
Instead I looked through my office window at two interns trying to carry a printer between cubicles.
One of them walked backward into a trash can.
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
Savannah went silent.
“Sorry,” I said.
“For what?”
“Not you.”
“Right.”
I closed my eyes.
“Do I enjoy watching Mom finally understand that Sterling isn’t what she decided he was?”
“Yes.”
Another silence.
“Yes,” I said.
The word tasted mean.
Also true.
Savannah breathed out.
“At least you admit it.”
“I’m trying.”
“To be what, morally superior?”
“No.”
“I can hear it in your voice.”
“You called me.”
“Because my wedding is falling apart.”
That changed the room.
I sat straighter.
“What happened?”
She did not answer immediately.
“The county rejected the lighting plan.”
“I told your planner that would happen.”
“You told her after she submitted it.”
“She called me after she submitted it.”
“The branded cliff installation is out.”
“It violates the site agreement.”
“The floral structure has to be redesigned because apparently half the imported materials aren’t allowed.”
“That was in the vendor packet.”
“She says your vendors understood all this stuff.”
“They did.”
“She says they won’t work with us.”
“They’re already booked elsewhere.”
“With you.”
“Yes.”
Savannah said nothing.
I could hear a horn in the distance.
Then, unexpectedly, her voice cracked.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
Every prepared answer disappeared.
I leaned forward.
“Do what?”
“Any of it.”
I waited.
She sniffed once and immediately sounded irritated with herself.
“Mom said we could move the date and use everything you already arranged.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“Savannah.”
“I thought it was done.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“No, I mean none of it was done.”
She went quiet.
“The estate was the easy part,” I said.
“Everything else took two years.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t know.”
“No.”
For once she did not fight me.
I rubbed my thumb against the edge of my desk.
“What does your fiancé think?”
Another pause.
“Trevor says we should postpone.”
That surprised me.
I had met Trevor twice.
He seemed pleasant in the vague way of a man who had learned that disagreeing with Savannah in public created content.
“And?”
“Mom says postponing would make us look ridiculous.”
“To whom?”
“My audience.”
“What does Trevor say?”
“He says he doesn’t want to marry my audience.”
I smiled despite the situation.
“That may be the smartest thing I’ve heard about this wedding.”
“Don’t.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No.”
She made a sound that might have been a laugh.
Then it disappeared.
“Elena, did you ever actually want that estate?”
“Yes.”
“Even after you found out you could use Sterling’s island?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I looked at the restoration photograph on my wall.
May you like
Because I had wanted to prove I could build something without borrowing anyone else’s power.
Because I had wanted Patricia to attend one event in my life without being able to say she had created it.
