My phone was in my tote bag, on vibrate mode. I ignored it, but I could still hear the sound, like a hornet trapped under a glass. Ryan had seemed much the same this morning: he’d clenched his teeth, barely able to look at me, as he rushed out of the house, his briefcase in one hand and the travel mug of coffee he always took with him in the other. He’d kissed Maddie on the top of the head as always though, and she hadn’t seemed to notice the twitch in his jaw as he glanced over at me.
“Are you going to get that?” Maddie asked from beside me on the couch. It was hot out–the first really hot day of a long summer–and we’d spent most of the morning lazing around at home. Much as she–and I–loved wandering through the park and around the coffee shops and gelato parlors of the Upper East Side, it was nice to just hang out. I’d promised her a sewing lesson after lunch. She was improving: she could sew a whole row of stitches now, backstitching at the beginning and end to lock them in place.
Buzz, buzz.
“Fine,” I said as Maddie raised her eyebrows at me in a way that reminded me uncomfortably of her mother’s expression the morning we met. I crossed the room and dug my phone from the depths of my tote.Hazel Connelly, the display read. “What is my sister doing calling me?” I wondered out loud.
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” chimed in Maddie from the couch.
“Half-sister,” I clarified. “We have the same mom, but–”
“Not the same dad. I know what a half-sister is,” Maddie said, rolling her eyes. “Serena at school has one, but she doesn’t like her.”
“That’s not very nice,” I said, my thumb hovering over the answer button.
“Iknow that. IfIhad a half-sister, I wouldloveher.” I couldn’t stop the blush that rose to my cheeks–who’s going togiveyou a half-sister, Maddie, your handsome dad?–but I could put a stop to the conversation. I swiped the bar green.
“Hey, Hazel. What’s up?”
“Flora!” came my sister’s bubbly voice over the speaker. People thought that I was cheerful, but it was Hazel who was the sunshine of the two of us.That’s what happens whenyourparents were the second marriage, I thought. Once, I’d been bitter about it, but it wasn’t Hazel’s fault. And it was hard to stay bitter when your half-sister was an incredible baker, like Hazel was. “How are you?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” I said, glancing over at Maddie, who was watching me curiously, an interested look on her face. There was no chance of privacy with a ten-year-old around. “I’m at work. I got a summer job as a nanny.”
“Cute!” Hazel said. “Aww, that’s perfect for you. I bet the kid loves you. Boy or girl?”
“A girl,” I said, scrunching my nose at Maddie and smiling. “Ten. She’samazing. We’re having a great time together.” Maddie smiled back shyly and turned to the book she was reading. “Did you have something you wanted, though? If you just want to chat, I can call you back after…” I mentally checked my schedule. “Six?”
“Well,” Hazel said, hesitantly, and I braced for it. I loved Hazel, but we weren’t necessarily thatclose. “I would love to chat with you at six. Or get dinner? But I was calling today because, well… I was wondering if you could loan me some money.”
“What?” I asked. “I thought the catering thing was going well!”
She sighed.
“Itis, Flora, it’s goingamazing, only… New York is exp–”
“Expensive,” I finished with her. “So charge more. This isNew York City.”
“I know, I know,” she said. She sounded small and sad, not at all like the Hazel I knew. The Hazel who would always,alwaysgive someone a discount because she thought they deserved something nice, even if it was a little beyond their budget. The Hazel who had been there for me, sending me care packages stuffed with too-fancy baked goods, when I was feeling lonely and overwhelmed my first year at college, before I met anyone or made any friends. The Hazel who I should have spent more time with now that she, too, had moved to New York…
“How much?” I asked. I’d done the math when I signed the nannying contract: between my meager savings and the generous paycheck I was earning from nannying, I had enough to make it through the summer, plus about two months of extra expenses. I would be fine. I could do it.
As long as I found a job by the end of the summer…
And kept my hands off of my boss,my guilty conscience reminded me. I remembered the way my body reacted last night, when I thought for a moment that he was going to fire me.
“Two thousand dollars. I know–” she hurried on as I drew an audible breath, “It’s a lot, but the kitchen I’m sharing increased my fees, and I just need one big job… You know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have to. I don’t want to ask Scott.”
“No, no, of course not,” I mumbled. My dad–Scott, to Hazel–was the only person in our blended family who had that kind of cash lying around. He was the one who had paid for my college, and my grad school, and my teacher’s certificate, and I was so, so thankful for it: there was no way I would have been able to stay in New York after grad school if I had had student loans as well as rent to pay. But money from him always came with strings attached, the kind of strings you didn’t see until it was too late. I was his daughter, so for me, the strings weren’t so bad. But for Hazel… who knew what he might ask of her. An unreasonably large share of her profits? To my dad, Hazel wasn’t quite family, she was a business investment he could keep close.
But to me…
“I can do it.” She was my younger sister. I had to. “Not today, but… By the end of the summer?”
I could hear her exhale on the other end of the line. “Thank you, Flora. Seriously, thank yousomuch. You’re always there for me, and it means a lot.”
I smiled. “You’re mysister.”
What more needed to be said?
