Pieces of My Sister's Life (20 page)

Justin cried out and pushed her away, fierce enough to send her spiraling to the floor. And I, for some God-knows-why reason, began to laugh. I couldn’t stop myself. Maybe it was embarrassment or anger, or the absurdity of the situation, or maybe it was just intoxication, but the laughter exploded in painful waves from my chest until my eyes were running. And then, suddenly as it had come, my laughter choked to silence.

Eve stared up at me from the floor. Justin’s face was flushed with sweat. I slapped my hand on the table. “You’re such a slut!”

Eve pulled herself up and eyed me. “He has a hard-on.”

“Dammit, Eve, what’s wrong with you?” Justin spun away from the table, knocking over his glass, his chair clattering to the floor. He strode from the room and the glass rolled from the table with a sickening crash.

I looked down at the splattered liquid and shattered glass as the front door slammed shut. Eve was watching me, I knew, and I couldn’t stay there, couldn’t stay with her. I started to rise, and a wave of dizziness hit me. I leaned against the table, held my palms flat on it until the spinning stopped. “How could you?”

“It’s for your own good.” Eve’s eyes were red with tears, her jaw firm. “Don’t you get that?”

“You bitch.” I didn’t recognize my voice, pitched low and dark. I whirled away and left her sitting there, ran outside in my bare feet to the Caines’.

Justin was sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked up when I entered, held out his hand. There was an awful fire in my gut as I crawled onto the bed beside him. He took me in his arms and crushed me against his bare chest. But I knew nothing would ever be the same again, not with me and Justin, not with me and Eve. And even surrounded by his warmth, his hushing sounds in my ear, I felt alone.

21

M
Y HEAD WAS THROBBING,
had been all day. More than throbbing, it was like firecrackers, like a little man with a sharp little axe. I huddled under my bedcovers and buried my nose inside the pillow. My pajamas were folded under the pillow and I fingered them, considering slipping them on over my clothes, but then I heard the front door. I curled onto my side and pulled the covers up to my chin.

Justin came up the stairs, calling my name as he entered the room. “Kerry? I was waiting outside school for you. You stayed home?”

I rolled to the wall, skillfully managing to bonk my forehead against it.

Justin sat beside me. “You okay? Have you talked to her?”

“I can’t talk to her.” New tears filled my eyes and I rolled onto my back and swiped my arm across my face.

Justin watched me and nodded, kept nodding like he expected me to continue.

“Now I know,” I said. “All this time it’s you she wanted?”

Justin nodded again and anger bubbled hot in my chest. “Say something!”

“You know she wouldn’t choose to hurt you.”

“Oh yeah, that’s obvious.”

He sat there a minute, his eyes distant. “Look,” he said. “Look, she knows I’d never leave you. She knows how I feel, so really she’s just crying out for something. What’s she getting from Ryan Maclean? There’s no future in it. She doesn’t love him.”

“It’s for the sex.”

I could feel Justin stiffen. “You really believe that?”

“It’s because of you,” I said, “because of us.”

He was quiet a minute, then said, “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it makes sense. When did this all start? Soon as I lied to her so we could be together on Christmas, she turns around and sleeps with Brad Carrera.”

“It started with your father. She changed when he died.”

“She didn’t give a damn about Daddy!” I was openly sobbing now, the tears clogging in my nose.

Justin pulled me against his chest and stroked my hair. I struggled for a minute but then I let myself become swallowed in it. And then something rose in me, a burning need. I brushed my lips against his.

He pulled away and watched me, then shook his head. He traced my lips with his finger, and I let myself sink into that place he brought me, a safe escape where I pushed away everything but the feel of him kissing me once softly, twice, then harder, grasping, pulling me back against the bed.

The little axe-wielding man pounded a rat-a-tat-tat in my head, and Justin clawed his hand over my blouse, pulling at buttons, scraping his nails against my skin. I could feel him, the hardness of him against my leg. I put my hand against it and he gasped; his body tensed. My heart stuttered but I unzipped his jeans. He moaned,
Oh yes, oh please…
and I reached inside with numb fingers.

His hand clutched my shoulder, breath heavy in my ear. He wrenched at the button on my jeans, pulling me up, off the bed, and suddenly the hardness in my hand became a fist. “Wait!”

He moaned into my ear, “Oh please…”

He pressed against me but I slipped out from under him. “I’m sorry, Justin, I’m sorry, I—”

“Why? Why not?” He rolled onto his back. “Oh God.”

How could I tell him so he’d understand? How could I tell him when my reasons made no sense even to me? It was because of last night, a feeling that Eve had gained some hold over that part of him. And it was because I’d seen her come home from nights with Brad and Ryan, smelling like sweat and beer and men’s cologne, hair matted and red bruises on her neck. And this was what I’d come to associate with sex, the soiled look of her face and stunned glaze in her eyes.

I looked up at the ceiling. “You know I love you more than anything.”

“It’s okay.” He zipped up his jeans, looking suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, too. I just got carried away.” He watched me for a minute, then swung his legs to the floor. I put my hand on his arm, but he didn’t respond, so I pulled it away again.

“You hungry?” he said. “I’m starving. Think I’ll go home and grab something.”

For a minute I felt disoriented, like I’d been snatched from somewhere vaguely dangerous. “We have sandwich stuff in the fridge,” I said softly. “If you want it.”

“Sounds good. Okay, so I’ll go down.” Justin rose. He stood a minute, then nodded and walked down the hall.

I sat a moment, listening to his steps down the stairs, then followed him to the kitchen. I helped him make sandwiches, working in silence, unwrapping bologna and cheese. I wanted to say something, but the time was past and there wasn’t really anything to say. I cleared my throat a couple of times and then just gave up.

When the front door opened, something crinkled inside me. I tried to concentrate on spreading mustard as if sandwich-making was like neurosurgery, something demanding ultimate attention.

Eve walked into the kitchen acting totally nonchalant. “Hey, Ker. Hey, Jussy,” she said, tossing a brown envelope on the table. “We got our monthly envelope, ten bucks. If we split it, we could just about each buy a burger.”

Her indifference was like a slap. Didn’t she realize what she’d done? Didn’t she care?

“God, I was so drunk last night,” she said, opening the refrigerator. “How much did we drink? And plus I had like three beers before I got home.” She pulled out a jar of peanut butter, reached into the drawer for a spoon, then turned to me. “What with all I drank, I hardly remember what we talked about. I remember coming upstairs to show you my anklet, but then after that,
whoosh,
my whole mind’s just a blank.”

Before I could stop, I found myself trying to believe it might be true. She’d been drinking too much, ran off at the mouth, grabbed at Justin so she wouldn’t have to say any more about Mr. Maclean. But then I saw her one eyebrow raised, like a question,
Please
?

I shook my head. “I can’t deal with this now.”

“Deal with what?” Her voice was too bright.

“Deal with you, Eve.” I started for the door. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Kerry—”

But I didn’t let her finish. I was out the door before she could stop me.

Outside, I stood on our front walkway partially hidden by the porch, and looked through the kitchen window. I could see Justin talking, first facing his sandwich and then the ceiling. I leaned closer, tried to hear. “I know that,” Justin said, and then something that sounded like
Go for bumping,
and Eve shook her head and said something like
She’s no mobster
. Justin bent to give Eve a quick hug, collected the sandwiches and raised his hand in a wave. I strode across the lawn to the Caines’ and slammed the front door behind me. I stood in the dark hallway for a minute, watching out the window as Justin walked to the road, searching for me, then turned towards his house.

He pulled at the door. “There you are,” he said.

I shrugged without turning to face him.

“You guys’ll be okay, you just have to talk it out.”

He held out a sandwich but I shook my head. “Did she offer you a hand job?”

“Kerry…”

“You know whatever she told you is a lie. She knew what she was doing last night.”

“She didn’t tell me anything, and I didn’t ask. But if she’s getting herself into trouble, you owe it to her to try and help.”

“I owe it to her? She had her hand in your lap!”

Justin flushed. “She was drunk.”

“Like hell.”

He pulled me close and rested his chin on my head, but I shrugged him off and focused on the shadows cast by branches weaving against the hall floor.

“Jesus,” he said suddenly. I glanced at him but he was staring out the window, his face pale. I turned back and my breath caught.

It was Ryan Maclean. He was sidling up the driveway, edging along the bushes like he was dodging gunfire, glancing now and again back to the road.

“Holy fucking crap,” Justin said.

I held my breath, watching. Mr. Maclean pounded the door with his fist, turning back to watch the road. He leaned on the doorbell, pressing his lips between his teeth, a painfully childish, girlish expression. Eve had made Congressman Maclean into a girl.

“Why?” I whispered.

We watched as the door opened and Eve stood there, talked to him. She tilted her head and smiled, and he brushed the hair out of her face.

“Why?” I said again. “He’s married, Justin, he’s been married how long? What did she do to him?”

“That son of a bitch! She’s sixteen years old!”

Eve stood on her toes and tapped a kiss on Ryan Maclean’s lips. She said something, then closed the door, and Mr. Maclean stood on the porch without moving, watching the closed door, his shoulders slumped. After a minute he turned and walked back down the drive.

I watched Justin’s face, trying to read his expression. “Who’s taking advantage of who?” I said. “It must make her feel so powerful, hunh? Messing with a ten-year marriage.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

There was a grinding inside me, so hard I was pretty sure I could hear it. “Do you want her too, Justin? Is that why you’re defending her?”

He grabbed my shoulder and our eyes locked. After a minute he pulled me towards him, crushed me against his chest. “What’re we doing to each other?” he said hoarsely. “I swear to God, Kerry, I won’t let her do this to us anymore.”

I shook my head against his chest. I listened to the beat of his heart and the gritty rasp his words left in the air, and I tried to believe. I had to believe him. He was now the only thing I had left in this world.

22

I
T WAS OUR SEVENTEENTH BIRTHDAY
. I was in LoraLee’s garden, helping her pull new weeds and prune the roses, a job that always seemed a little mean. I was waiting for Justin to come home. This day had been like every day this week. Eve and I had woken up, gotten dressed, and stared at the cereal boxes while we ate. I’d tried not to knock four times on every item I passed, mostly unsuccessfully. We’d gone to school and sat on opposite sides of our small classroom, her the last row to the right and me front left, trying to pretend I didn’t feel her eyes on the back of my head.

I’d bought her a gift, a gold charm in the shape of tiny twin cherries. It was in my pocket now, tucked inside a padded box, ready to be whipped out with a smile of forgiveness. “Even though I’m still pissed off at you,” I’d say.

But we hadn’t said happy birthday. All day I’d tried to ignore the words pressing just behind my lips, waiting for a glance, the glimmer of a smile. All I needed was a little evidence that the words were behind her lips too. But she gave me no evidence of anything, so I pretended I didn’t care. I didn’t care.

LoraLee was watching as I tore stems from roots, fierce enough to scatter the earth. I thought she knew that something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell her about Eve. Because if I did she’d come up with some story or metaphor that was supposed to be an answer, when there was no answer. Not to this. Instead I spoke around the truth, told her Eve had found a new boyfriend only a week after she’d broken up with Brad. “She just blinks her eyes and they go after her,” I said.

LoraLee laughed and shook her head. “That Eve, she like a day lily, burst into color and sing for all she’s worth, and you can’t help but listen.”

“She doesn’t love him, I know she doesn’t.”

LoraLee patted my hand. “In the end it for her to make her own choice and find her own way. Deep down she the only one know what’s bes’ for herself.”

“But if she’s doing something completely wrong?”

“You think you can reason her into changin’ her notion ’bout what’s wrong? It ain’t right, she find that for herself. It’s hard puttin’ on a show you doesn’t believe in. Day lily, they only hold they color for so long.”

“And then they die.”

She sighed and brushed the dirt from her hands, then rocked back on her heels to watch me. “When you gonna see it ain’t for you to pull her back? It’s like a bush what you cuts back so’s it won’t block out your view. You can trim it but you can’t do a thing ’bout the smell of its flower or shape of the leaf. And in the end, the bush still allus want to keep on growin’. So you either has to keep battlin’ nature or you jus’ work with it.”

“You’re trying to say there’s nothing I can do.”

“No, that ain’t it at all. I’s sayin’ you got to be careful, listen careful to how the bush want to grow. Work with it and it jus’ may grow fuller stead-a taller. In the end it still grow, but if you’s lucky, it also won’t block out the view.” She tilted her head. “You know she need you to unnerstan’ more than she need you to tell her what’s right.”

My throat tightened and I turned away to the colorful pots of new annuals that would soon inherit the garden. And part of me wanted to kick them, to shatter their pots and trample their buds. Eve thought I was weak enough to accept anything she did just to keep the peace. But I’d show her that times had changed. I had changed. I didn’t need her anymore.

When I returned home, Justin was sitting on the front step waiting, a small gift-wrapped box in his hands. He jumped to his feet when he saw me, lifted me from the ground in a hug.

I made a choked sound and pushed at him, and he set me down. “Hey, I thought you’d squeal for me. You know I love to hear you squeal.” He backed away and looked into my face. “Something wrong?”

I turned away and opened the door. “I’m okay.”

“You should be ecstatic. You’re sweet seventeen and soon to be kissed.” He brushed back my hair and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Seventeen and about to be gifted, look!”

I took the package from him, pulled at the wrapping and opened the flat box. Inside were two ferry passes, two Red Sox tickets and a hotel brochure. “Wow,” I said.

“Don’t you get it? We’re driving to Boston. We have to get away from here for a little while, start fresh. We’ll go in June the day after school ends, hang out at Boston Commons, see the waterfront. You guys need time together, away from all this, away from Ryan Maclean and Brad Carrera and memories.”

I stared at him. “This is for me and Eve?”

“For the three of us, actually. I gave Eve her ticket already.”

“The three of us,” I said. I pictured the three of us at Fenway Park, Justin in between. I pictured a foul ball soaring our way. And hitting Eve in the head.

Justin tilted his head at me. “Did you and Eve…”

“No,” I said. “Me and Eve nothing. We’re not talking.”

“Come on, Kerry, you have to stop this. Eve’s hurting too, you know.”

“I’m not hurting.”

Justin gave me a pitying look and I clenched my jaw and turned away. “Forget it. You don’t know anything, Justin. Eve’s exactly where she wants to be.”

I pushed past him up the stairs. With a shock I saw Eve standing in the hall, watching down. I strode to the bedroom, kicked off my shoes and sat on the bed, squeezing my eyes shut and waiting to see what she’d do.

A minute later she came to the bedroom door. I pretended to be inordinately interested in my socks.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.” My voice was rough and masculine, someone else’s voice. I could feel the sharp edges of Eve’s gift box through my jeans.

Eve reached into her drawer for a can of beer, then sat on her bed, gripping it without pulling the tab. “So you think we’ll get a birthday envelope? Five bucks this time? Maybe ten?”

“Guess you’d think ten bucks is pretty lame.” I smiled thinly. “When you take into account that money under your bed.”

Eve’s shoulders stiffened. “What?”

“I saw it, Eve, must be a thousand bucks stashed there. You steal money from friends and you steal other people’s husbands. It’s inspirational.”

“I’m not stealing anything.”

“Or is Ryan Maclean paying you for sex? For a good fuck call Eve Barnard, weekends half-price.” The words were coming from somewhere outside me. A sweat broke above my upper lip. I couldn’t look at her, only watched her toes clench and unclench in her sandals.

When she finally spoke, there were tears in her voice. “I can’t believe you.”

“You can’t believe
me
?”

“What right do you have to preach? You think you have this Ward Cleaver boyfriend who writes fairy stories, this perfect septic-sweet relationship. But what you don’t get is it’s not going to last because you have no idea about passion.”

“You think you and Mr. Maclean have passion? Maybe like a mutt and a bitch in heat have passion.”

She glared at me, then shook her head. “Maybe you don’t get it, but Ryan needs me. He loves me.”

“You’re really that clueless.”

“He’s an important man, Kerry, he wouldn’t risk his career if this was just about sex. You know what he does to be with me? What he’s been doing? He says he has to be in Washington, that Congress is in session and he has to leave. So this is what he does, he drives out to the airport, takes the plane out and then he takes the next one back, and when it lands he leaves his car and walks out to Daddy’s boat.”

I stared at her.

“You know how cramped it is in there?” she said. “How tiny the hold is, but he spends half those in-session days on Daddy’s boat.”

“You let him stay in Daddy’s boat?” So many things were rushing through me, words and images on fire. “Daddy’s boat!”

“We’ve fucked on Daddy’s boat,” she said.

Heat roared under my skin and I jumped to slap her face, slapped at her before my mind could fathom what my hand was about to do.

Eve raised her hand to her cheek, then looked at her fingers like she expected to see blood. And then, slowly, she held out her wrist for me to see. A thin gold chain of diamond-studded hearts circled where her birthday bracelet used to be. Where the birthday bracelet had been for seventeen years. “He gave me this,” Eve said. “He loves me.”

Where had she put our bracelet? Was it tossed in with the cheap earrings in her jewelry box? Or in the trash? “You’re paying for his attention with sex, don’t you get it? You can’t get anyone to love you for real, so you’re pretending that those few minutes he’s screwing you mean something.”

Eve shook her head slowly, her eyes fixed on my face. “How do you think it is with you and Justin? I could have Justin any time I want, and that’s the truth. He’s not better than any other man, Kerry, and he’s always wanted me.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I raised my hand to hit her again, but then slammed my fist against the wall and strode into the hallway. Justin was standing at the head of the stairs, his eyes wide. He reached forward but I batted him away. “She’s a whore!” I choked, and raced past him.

I ran outside and down the street, ran all the way out to the bluffs, where I pulled Eve’s gift box from my pocket and threw it into the ocean. After a minute I tore the birthday bracelet from my wrist. It broke, scattering years of birthday charms like tears, and without a moment’s hesitation I flung it out into the water. I watched it fall, a glittering sliver like a wish until it vanished beneath the waves.