“It feels like such a huge ask,” Keira says. “That money could change lives.”
She’s right. Any place on Beachside Avenue could probably be sold for millions, just for that unobstructed ocean view. Ruth always told me how lucky she was that this house was in the family, and while I never wanted to live there, I never thought she’d want to sell it, either. I have a feeling it has something to do with the complicated relationship she had with her only son. It would’ve broken her heart to skip his generation and sign the deed to Keira and me, but she never would’ve been able to live with herself if she’d given him the house, only for him to sell it to pay for one of his bad habits.
“Will you be okay?” I ask. “Without the deal money, I mean. If you need—”
“I don’t need your money.”
I lift my hands in defense. “I wasn’t offering.”
I definitely was.
“Yes, you were.”
I purse my lips the same way she does, and when we notice the mirror image, we both smile a little.
“We’ll be fine. Rob and I just had to rework some stuff.”
I want to ask if I can help with something else, but before I can, she stands and winces, one hand on her back to stretch, the other covering her big, round belly.
“How long do you have left?”
“Too fucking long.”
I snicker. One of the most common answers.
“Back pain?” I ask, trying not to sound desperate for glimpses into her life as I bring our plates to the sink.
“Back pain. Heartburn. Lightning crotch. Nausea.”
“Sounds like a blast.” I’m only half sarcastic. I’d give anything to feel morning sickness and fatigue from sleepless nights spent tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position. “According to old wives’ tales, the heartburn would mean it’s a girl.”
“According to different tales, I’m having both a boy and a girl at the same time. And apparently, the heartburn means they have a lot of hair.” She returns to her box of mismatched cutlery. “It’s a girl, though.”
“Maternal hunch?”
“Ultrasound.”
“Also does the trick.” I imagine a baby girl with big green eyes and nails the size of a grain of rice. “Congratulations, by the way. I’m really happy for you.” And I am. I could always appreciate the beauty of a growing family.
I never meant to bring my personal struggles to work. When I felt like crying at seeing the babies sleeping in the nursery, I would dig my nails into my palms and talk myself down until the urge dissipated. But one evening, I’d been having a rough time—Michaelhad come and picked up the last of his things that morning, and it meant the end of this story had truly arrived. I felt raw everywhere, like someone had peeled all the protective layers of myself and left me open for all irritants to burn. That evening, I witnessed the wrong thing at a time when I couldn’t get control over myself. The mother who didn’t want to wake up at night to feed her baby was probably overly exhausted, maybe even depressed. But when she asked my nurse colleague to do it for her for the third night in a row while her baby boy cried relentlessly in his cot, I snapped. It was so much more about me than it was about her, but it was still inappropriate. Sariah was right to tell me to take a break. In fact, she could’ve done far worse. I needed to get myself back the fuck in control. The pain will never go away. I’m not dumb enough to think a month away from work will close the wound. I just need to get my shit together, enough that I can pretend everything is fine in front of my patients, even when I feel like dying inside.
“Thanks,” Keira says.
This feels good. Having a civil conversation with my sister. Maybe this is what will make this trip worth it. Finally getting back at least a semblance of a relationship with Keira.
“Are you still in the same apartment? What—”
Footsteps boom on the back porch before we hear a knock at the half-open patio door. “Hey, Cassie?” Eli’s voice is unmistakable, and I wince. I quickly stand to go minimize the damage, but the glare Keira gives me says it’s way too late. “I’m making spaghetti, and Zoe asked if— Oh, Keir, hi,” he says as he spots her still seated at the kitchen table. “I didn’t know you were here. I’ll, uh, leaveyou to it.” Looking back to me, he adds, “I’ll bring you a bowl later.” Then, he’s gone, unaware of the chaos he just unfurled.
“Nothing is going on,” I tell Keira before she can bite my head off. “I babysit for him sometimes. That’s it.” Now’s not the time to mention the beach trip, or how we’ve spent a lot of time together in the past week before or after my time with Zoe while he was at work.
“You don’t understand,” she says. “This isn’t some random guy. It’sEli.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Do you know the way he was when he figured out you’d left? I’d never seen him like that, Cassie. Knocked on our door until Dad pushed him out, but he didn’t care. He would’ve torn down the entire house. Would probably have killed Dad. I had to physically pull him away.”
My chest feels like it’s being sawed in two at each word. They take me back to the conversation the other night, when Eli told me he would’ve wanted to have a choice in the way I handled things. I made so many mistakes when I left, and I’m still feeling the ripple effects of them.
