The Language of Sisters (28 page)

My mind filled with images of red velvet dresses and tiny blue jeans, but the thought of Garret quelled any enthusiasm I might have felt. “Maybe tomorrow,” I said. “I don’t really feel up to it today.”

“All right,” she consented. “Tomorrow, then.” She paused, adjusting her shirt and sitting Layla upright on her lap before continuing. “You know, Ryan and I were talking before he left this week. We were thinking it would be a good idea for you to stay with us after the baby gets here. We’ve got the guest room and bath in the basement—we’re all set up for it.”

“Really?” I shook my head. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t that be a huge inconvenience? I was planning to find an apartment.”

“I know you were. But I figure you’re basically going to be living over here anyway, so why pay the extra rent? You’re going to need a few months to get on your feet. And even though you and your mom have worked out some things, I know you’ve had enough of living with her. My mom’d be lucky to be alive after four months under the same roof with me, God bless her.”

“We
have
sort of used up our mother-daughter conflict management allotment dealing with Jenny’s pregnancy,” I relented, looking at my peacefully napping sister.

“Exactly. So I think you should stay here and I can help you with the baby and you can help me with the house and the kids. It’ll be like frontier times: women living communally, waiting for the man to bring home the mastodon meat and all that good shit.”

“Are you sure? Is it really okay with Ryan?”

She shrugged. “He thought it was a great idea. He figures with you around I’ll have less time to think of reasons to bitch at him. Plus he loves you.”

“Well, okay then.” I hugged her. “You’re the greatest person, Nova. The best soul on earth. You know that?”

“I can always use reminding.” She smiled.

There was a sharp rap on the front door as she spoke, and I held my breath, bracing myself to see Garret’s face. Instead, a woman entered, her dark hair, pale skin, and annoyingly petite frame announcing her obvious relationship to Lucy. She wore a snugly fit, red linen sundress with matching sling-back sandals.

“Jackie!” Nova exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

Garret’s ex-wife smiled in a smooth, catlike movement. With her perfect makeup, sleek skin, and smartly cut, shiny black bob, she looked like she belonged on a nighttime soap opera, playing the vampy bitch everyone loved to hate. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

“Well, you did!” Nova gestured to me, balancing Layla on one leg of her lap. “This is my girlfriend Nicole and her sister, Jenny.”

Jackie looked at me with uninterest, and I suddenly felt that I had done something wrong, offended her somehow with my too-big body and unruly curls. Her eyes brushed over Jenny’s sleeping form as if she were simply part of the couch, then came back to me. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

I nodded, my tongue thick in my mouth. No way was this a coincidence. No way did she just show up out of nowhere after Shane’s visit. Their phone call the night I’d spent with Garret in
the restaurant must have been arranging for her to come;
that
was why he didn’t want to tell me about it. Maybe they had discussed reconciling. What right did he have to get so angry with me over Shane when he was deliberately hiding what was going on with Jackie from me? Maybe
he
was the one pretending to be something
he
wasn’t—an oxymoron: an honest man. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Can you come in for a while?” Nova asked politely, standing up and setting Layla in her swing as she spoke. “The other kids are about to wake up.”

Jackie tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear, setting off the sharp angle of her cheekbone to its best advantage. “No, sorry. I just wanted to let you know Garret and I’d be home with Lucy tonight, so you’re off the hook.”

“How long are you staying?” Nova asked, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m not sure. We haven’t discussed it yet.” She tilted her head and raised her thin, penciled eyebrows. “You know how things are.”

I know you abandoned your baby girl
, I thought nastily.

“Well, thanks for letting me know about tonight,” Nova said with false cheer. “Hope things go well.”

“Oh, they will,” Jackie purred. Then as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone.

Nova dropped to the couch, shaking her head. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea she was coming, I swear.”

“Of course you didn’t. Garret probably saw my car and sent her right over. Eye for an eye.”

“No. He’s stubborn, but he’s not vindictive.”

I shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “Oh, well. Who cares? It’s not like I have a claim on the guy, right? It was just a passing thing. I should be on my own now, anyway. I’ve got enough to do
with the baby coming.” I looked at Nova, blinking quickly to push back the tears I felt threatening behind my eyes. “I need Rebound Boy, not Mr. Right … right?”

She hugged me. “Oh, hon.”

I wiped my eyes, laughed a bit. “Skinny little bitch, isn’t she? No tits at all.”

“None that I’ve ever seen.”

“At least I’ve got her beat in that department.”

Nova hugged me again. “Believe me, chick. You got her beat in more ways than that.”

•  •  •

Trying my best not to think about Garret and Jackie being together under the same roof three doors down, Jenny and I spent the next couple of weeks pretty much living at Nova’s house, sprucing up the basement bedroom. The good-size rectangular room was a horrid shade of pumpkin, chosen by the house’s previous owners, so Nova and I spent several evenings after the kids had gone to bed repainting the walls a warm brick red. We left the trim around the large bay window that looked out into the backyard cream to match the Berber carpet and the heavy, room-darkening drapes. On the clearance shelf at Bed Bath & Beyond, I found a taupe-and-white-striped duvet cover to use on the down comforter Nova already had on the queen-size bed. There was an old dresser and vanity table that I sanded down and painted a bright white, and with the extra crib and changing table Nova donated, along with several other baby accessories, the room quickly morphed into a perfect temporary home for me and the baby.

During this time, I also took Nova’s advice and left Jenny with her and the children for an afternoon so I could go shopping for the baby’s wardrobe. Nova had plenty of basic clothes I could use, but I felt the urge to pick out something special, to say
this
is what I choose for my daughter to wear.
My daughter
. It was a phrase I had yet to become used to uttering. As I picked through the endless racks of adorable infant clothes, I chanted it to myself, hopeful that soon it would roll effortlessly out of my mouth, as natural as breath.

Several hours and Visa charges later, I pulled up in front of Nova’s house with two shopping bags full of more outfits than any one child could possibly wear. Nova had been right; shopping for this baby girl made me feel as if I somehow knew her better, though I’d yet to hold her in my arms. As I walked around the car to open the trunk and retrieve the bags, the sound of Lucy’s voice grabbed my attention. The little girl was tearing down the street, her dark hair pulled into jumping pigtails, her white sneakers pounding on the cement as she came in my direction. “Nicole!” she hollered. “Hi, Nicole!”

My heart started to rattle in my chest as I saw Garret following behind her. Unlike his daughter, he did not run; instead, he stepped deliberately, watching each foot as it hit the sidewalk in front of him. I grabbed my shopping bags and closed the trunk, taking a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to steady myself. Over the past couple of weeks, as Jenny and I arrived at Nova’s each morning, I allowed myself one glance toward Garret’s house but never saw either him or Jackie. Nova said she hadn’t been watching Lucy, either; Garret was taking time off from the restaurant. I pictured him and Jackie sitting at their kitchen table, the morning sun washing over them as they sipped lazily at steaming cups of coffee, touching the tips of their naked toes together on the floor, laughing with wonder at the two years they’d wasted being apart.

I slammed the trunk shut and steeled my gaze on Garret’s approach. His handsome face looked tired—due, I was sure, to the late nights spent reuniting with Jackie—and his dark hair was
tucked under a baseball cap. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans along with brown Birkenstock sandals. I quickly tucked the necklace he’d given me under my blouse; I didn’t want him to see me wearing it and assume that all was well.

Lucy ran up to me, jumping up and down. “Is Jenny in the car?” She stopped jumping in order to cup her hands around her eyes and peer in the tinted passenger-side window.

“She’s in the house with Nova,” I said, my voice tight. I didn’t want to give Garret any hint of the turmoil I was experiencing. He approached slowly, his expression guarded.

Lucy turned to her father. “Can I go say hi to Jenny, Dad?”

Garret nodded his assent. “A quick one, peanut. Your mom is waiting for us.” My body tensed at this casual reference to his ex-wife, and I gave him a challenging look but waited for Lucy to dash up the stairs into the house before speaking.

“Things going well, then?” I asked, trying to sound as though I didn’t care one way or the other. I self-consciously fluffed my red curls, happy I’d had the time to shower that morning. Knowing it was terribly immature to do so, I stood up straight, pushing my chest out a bit to emphasize the V-necked blouse I wore to its best advantage.

Garret looked down the street toward his house, then swung his eyes back to my face. “Things are fine.” He paused, the tension in his body as obvious as mine. Hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, he dropped his gaze to the ground, focusing on digging the toe of his sandal into the parking strip.

“Well,” I commented snidely, “I’m so happy for you. Jackie seems like your perfect match.” I stepped toward the house, but his hand on my bare arm stopped me. His touch was electric.

“Jackie and I … ,” he started, but then trailed off, his hand falling away from me.

“Jackie and you, what?” I prodded, the muscles in my neck
thick with expectation. I dropped my shopping bags and waited. I figured he was about to tell me they’d decided to remarry and that he hoped I wouldn’t hold a grudge and would come to the wedding. Fat chance.

Garret’s soft brown eyes searched my face before he looked away again, shaking his head. “Nothing. Never mind. Could you tell Lucy to get a move on, please?”

I nodded briskly. “Sure.” I grabbed both bags and stepped resolutely toward the house, resigning myself to the fact that whatever might have been between Garret and me was over. Jackie’s return was probably for the best. What had I come home for, anyway? I challenged myself as I ascended the front stairs. To fall in love? No. I came home to take care of Jenny, to assimilate the fragments of myself I had left behind ten years before, to become the kind of sister, the kind of
person
, I’d always longed to be. I didn’t need Garret to do that. I didn’t need a man at all. I’d spent way too many years trying to find approval in the circle of a man’s arms. It was time to give up the search; it was time to finally approve of myself.

•  •  •

It was the day after Jenny’s thirty-six-week checkup when the call came. Nova’s older children were wild—running through the house, bouncing on the furniture, pawing at their mother’s limbs—while Layla mewled noisily in her bouncy seat on the couch next to Jenny.

“Awwrrgh!” Nova growled playfully, but with enough of an edge to make me realize she was reaching her limit. “Back off, turkeys! Give Mommy some room!” They scattered for a moment, leaving Nova to try to get dinner started, but within minutes they were back at her legs, whining and moaning about having nothing to do.

“That’s it!” Nova announced. “Mama needs a break!” She stomped down the hall to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

“Is Mama mad at us?” Rebecca asked me solemnly.

“She’s not mad, honey,” I said. “She just needs a little time out.”

“Did she do something bad?” Rebecca inquired. “I only get time-outs when I do something bad. Three minutes on the stairs with no toys.”

“No, Rebecca. She just needs a minute to herself. Can you guys please go outside in the backyard to play for a while? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”

“Eww!” Isaac said noisily. “James is
poopy
! I can smell it all the way over
here
!”

James stood sheepishly by the couch, one chubby finger in his mouth as the other hand pulled at the pudgy rear end of his diaper. “I’ll take care of it,” I said, sighing. “Just go outside. Now.” I kept my tone firm, mimicking the one Nova used with them when she meant business. Her “malevolent mama,” she called it.

Amazingly, they listened. Maybe I’d make it as a mother, after all. I wrestled with an acrobatic two-year-old James on the floor, trying to get his diaper changed. Jenny was on the couch, watching my frustration mount with amusement sparkling in her eyes, her squirming belly resting heavily on her lap. It was late August and the warm days were fading fast, but Nova tried to make sure the kids squeezed every moment they could out of the sun. The phone rang four times before I could manage to secure James’s shorts halfway up his diaper, then released him to join his siblings.

“Could you get that, Nic?” Nova called from behind the bathroom door. “I’m expecting a call from the boat.” Ryan was due back from the season’s final run to Alaska in a few days, and it was obvious how sorely his presence was missed. I grabbed the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Yes, is Nicole Hunter there?”

“This is she.”

“Nicole, it’s Jack Waterson. I called your mother’s work and she gave me this number.”

“Mr. Waterson,” I repeated. “What’s up? More guardianship paperwork to sign?” Mom and I had been into his office several times to work with one of his partners to set up my adoption of Jenny’s baby. I had gone through two interviews with Social Services, and with the red tape mostly cut through, a month before
Jenny’s due date, the adoption was almost ready to be finalized.