Chương 12
“You look like that email personally insulted your ancestors.”
“My sister.”
“Worse.”
I laughed.
Then the client joined the call, and I put my phone away.
I answered Vanessa that evening.
Okay.
She called immediately.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Neither of us knew where to put the first sentence.
Eventually she said, “I got a job.”
“Dad told me.”
“Of course he did.”
There was irritation in her voice, then embarrassment at the irritation.
“It’s not amazing.”
“Doesn’t have to be.”
“I’m doing inventory and purchasing.”
“That actually sounds useful.”
“Thanks, I think.”
I smiled slightly.
“How are the kids?”
“Fine.”
Her voice softened.
“Lily lost another tooth.”
“Front?”
“Bottom.”
“Still counts.”
“She says the tooth fairy pays less for bottom teeth.”
“That sounds like something you told her.”
Vanessa laughed.
“I may have established a pricing structure.”
For a moment we were sisters again.
Not the responsible one and the difficult one.
Not creditor and debtor.
Not adversaries standing across Mom’s kitchen.
Just two women talking about a six-year-old’s business negotiations.
Then Vanessa said, “I was really mad at you.”
The warmth drained from the call.
“I know.”
“I’m still kind of mad.”
“Okay.”
She exhaled.
“You’re not going to argue?”
“I don’t know what you want me to argue about.”
“That I’m wrong.”
“You’re allowed to be mad.”
That seemed to frustrate her.
“I thought you left to embarrass me.”
“I left because I needed to.”
“I know that now.”
Her voice dropped.
“Brian explained some things.”
I wondered which things.
I did not ask.
Vanessa continued.
“I didn’t see it the way you did.”
“I know.”
“I thought because you lived there, you were supposed to help.”
“I did help.”
“I know.”
She sounded annoyed with herself.
“I mean, I know now.”
I waited.
“I really did think it was fair.”
“That doesn’t make it fair.”
“I know.”
The words came out fast, as if she disliked saying them.
Then she added, “But I also think you liked being needed.”
I sat back on the couch.
That one struck cleanly.
“Maybe.”
“No, you did.”
A trace of the old Vanessa returned.
“You’d complain, but then you’d fix everything.”
I looked at the lamp Calvin had insulted into existence.
“You’re probably right.”
She went quiet.
That answer seemed to unsettle her.
“I don’t mean it was your fault.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I got used to you saying yes.”
“I got used to saying it.”
Neither of us apologized.
Not then.
The conversation was not ready for that.
Before hanging up, Vanessa asked, “Do you want to see the kids sometime?”
My throat tightened.
“Yes.”
She hesitated.
“Saturday?”
“I can come Saturday.”
“Don’t bring anything.”
“What?”
“For them.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You always bring something.”
I almost denied it.
Then I remembered backpacks, coats, crayons, snacks, shoes.
“Okay.”
“Just come.”
So I did.
The house looked exactly the same and completely different.
Dad had installed a new deadbolt on the front door.
Mom’s winter wreath still hung crooked.
One of Noah’s boots lay upside down beneath the porch bench.
My old car spot was empty.
I sat in the driveway for almost a minute before going inside.
Lily opened the door before I knocked.
“Aunt Emily!”
She threw herself at me hard enough to knock my bag off my shoulder.
Noah appeared behind her shouting something about dinosaurs.
I crouched and hugged both of them.
For the next hour, nobody discussed money.
Nobody discussed Florida.
Nobody discussed my apartment.
We built an elaborate city out of blocks on the living room rug.
Noah destroyed it twice.
Lily accused him of lacking respect for infrastructure.
I looked at her.
“Where did you learn that sentence?”
“Grandpa.”
Dad called from the kitchen, “She asked why bridges cost money.”
“That explains nothing.”
“It explains enough.”
Mom made grilled cheese.
Brian arrived from work halfway through lunch.
He looked tired but lighter.
He hugged me awkwardly.
Vanessa remained careful.
We moved around each other like people learning the dimensions of a rearranged room.
After the kids went outside with Dad, Mom asked me to stay in the kitchen.
Vanessa glanced at her.
“I’m going upstairs.”
“No,” Mom said.
Vanessa stopped.
Mom folded the dish towel in her hands.
“I want both of you here.”
My stomach tightened.
I had not come for a family meeting.
Mom must have seen it.
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
That sentence alone told me how much had changed.
She opened a drawer and took out an envelope.
“I’ve been saving.”
I looked at it.
“For what?”
She held it toward me.
“You.”
I did not take it.
“Mom.”
“It isn’t everything.”
“No.”
She tightened her grip.
“Emily.”
“I’m not taking your money.”
“It is your money.”
Vanessa leaned against the counter, silent.
Mom swallowed.
“I should never have asked you for the furnace payment when I had money set aside.”
I looked at the envelope.
“How much is in there?”
“Seven hundred.”
“Keep it.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“I need to give it back.”
I felt anger rise, then something softer behind it.
“This isn’t going to fix what happened.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because I keep wanting you to forgive me before I’ve repaired anything.”
The kitchen went silent.
Vanessa looked down.
Mom continued.
“I keep trying to make things feel normal because normal is easier for me.”
She gave a small, embarrassed laugh.
“But normal was working pretty well for me, wasn’t it?”
I did not answer.
She nodded as if I had.
“I helped Vanessa because I was scared.”
Vanessa’s head lifted.
Mom looked at her.
“You were struggling, and every time I looked at you I saw the girl who came home crying because she failed algebra.”
Vanessa’s mouth tightened.
“You didn’t have to tell that story.”
“I know.”
Mom looked back at me.
“And every time I looked at you, I saw someone who could handle things.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“That wasn’t fair.”
May you like
“No.”
“You made my competence available to everyone.”
