Summer with My Sisters (33 page)

P
oppy pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall to gather her thoughts and review her progress—rather, the lack thereof—she had made so far. She had taken Route 1 as far as Bermondsey and then farther south to the next town of Foreston. She had tried to get a look in every car she passed or that passed her, wondering if she might see Evie in the passenger seat. She had gone into every gas station she came upon and asked if anyone had seen a girl about sixteen to eighteen years old, alone and on foot. She wished she had a picture to show, but a verbal description was all she could provide and not an entirely accurate one at that. Daisy had told her that Evie’s wardrobe was severely limited but that didn’t mean they knew exactly what she had been wearing when she left the house in the middle of the night. All they knew for sure was that she had taken her backpack.

At one point Poppy had parked in a ridiculously expensive lot and gone down to the beach on foot. Evie might have gone there to rest, assuming she had made it this far. Assuming she was heading south. Assuming she hadn’t already gotten into bad trouble.

But she had seen no one even remotely fitting Evie’s description. And she was beginning to despair, and not just about the runaway girl. For the past few hours, since the search party had mobilized, Poppy had been worried about her sisters almost as much as she had been worried about Evie. She had seen the look on Violet’s face, the way she was clutching poor Grimace as if he were a lifeline.

And Daisy. If anything bad happened to Evie, Daisy would further blame herself. Poppy looked at her watch—her father’s watch—and thought about taking a minute to call her sisters. But time was wasting and she didn’t want to tie up the lines of communication. Besides, Freddie and Sheila were at the house and would be of some comfort to the girls.
I am a lioness with her cubs,
she thought. She had never dreamed she would come to feel so fiercely protective over Daisy and Violet in such a short period of time
.

But what to do next for Evie . . . Suddenly, Poppy’s cell phone rang. She reached for it on the passenger seat, but in her agitation she dropped the phone on the floor of the car where it slid half under the seat. “Damn!” she cried, scrabbling for it as it continued to ring. “Sorry, hello?” she said, finally bringing the phone to her ear.

“We got her,” Jon said without preamble. “Daisy was right, she was heading north. We called 911 immediately and I’m pulling up to the hospital now behind the ambulance.”

“Is she . . .”

“She’s alive, Poppy. She’s got a fever though. I’m no doctor, but I think it’s pretty bad.”

“I’m on my way.”

Poppy ended the call and rested her head on the steering wheel. The sense of relief made her feel slightly dizzy. And then she remembered how she had been too late for her mother’s final moment. She lifted her head, took a deep breath, and started the engine.

“Please, God, let her be all right,” she prayed aloud as she drove out of the parking lot. And though Poppy didn’t make it a practice to talk on her cell phone while driving, in this moment she made an exception.

Daisy answered on the first ring.

“They found her, Jon and Joel,” Poppy said. “Tell everyone there. I’m going to the hospital.”

“I’ll get someone to take me there.”

“No. Go home and stay there. Violet might need you.”

“But—”

“No buts, Daisy. I need you to go home.”

“Okay. But call me from the hospital. Please?”

Poppy heard the strain in her sister’s voice. “I promise,” she said. “The moment I learn anything you’ll be the first to know.”

S
he wondered where she was. A room of some sort, she thought. She was definitely indoors. She wondered if she were dead. But dead people didn’t think, did they? Because she was pretty sure she was thinking. Sort of. Or dreaming. Or maybe you could think and dream when you were dead. Who would know the answer to that?

There was a girl. She was closing the front door of a big house behind her. It was dark.

Was it a memory?

She became aware that two large round yellow eyes were staring at her. She tried to look away from the penetrating gaze of those eyes—unattached to a face of any sort—but she couldn’t seem to turn her head. She thought that her own eyes must be open because she saw those other eyes so she tried now to close them, but they seemed to already be closed. The large round yellow eyes began to fade and then they were gone.

Now there was a sound . . . A tinkling sort of melody. It stopped abruptly. And then there was a voice.

“Where do they live? Okay. And her father? Good. Let me know how the search goes. Yes. She looks so frail.... It’s breaking my heart to see her like this.”

Her father. Was someone searching for her father? Or was it someone else’s father who had gone missing?

“Daddy?” She wasn’t sure she had said the word or had only thought it.

Someone came close to her. She couldn’t see the person clearly, but she felt the person take her hand.

“Evie, it’s Poppy, Daisy’s sister. Did you say something?”

“Daddy? Are you there? Are you there!” She was sure now that she had spoken those words aloud. But no one was answering her! No one . . .

“I
just talked to Freddie,” Allie announced, coming into the kitchen where Daisy and Poppy were picking away at a crumb cake from their favorite bakery. Some people couldn’t eat when they were upset. Not the Higgins sisters.

“And?” Poppy asked.

“And she’s been in touch with Sophie’s father. Dan Steuben. He’s been living and working in New Hampshire for the past few months.”

“What a relief,” Poppy said.

Maybe,
Daisy thought.

“I’ll be going down to pick him up. Billy offered to come with me. He pointed out that Sophie’s dad might be a fine man, but with all he’s been through he might not be entirely stable.”

“And you said?” Poppy asked, wiping powdered sugar from her hands.

“I said I’d appreciate the company. We’ll leave tomorrow morning and bring him back with us by afternoon.”

“Assuming he wants to see his daughter,” Daisy pointed out.

“According to Freddie,” Allie said, “he does, very much. Ever since Sophie went missing he’s been calling his brother and sister-in-law daily, hoping for word.”

“Good,” Daisy said. A father should be concerned about the daughter he had effectively abandoned. “Still, I wonder how Evie—Sophie—will feel about seeing her father again. I’ve never heard her say a nice word about him.”

“Well, she asked for him when I was with her in the hospital yesterday,” Poppy said. “At least, she called for him. She said, ‘Daddy, are you there?’ ”

“You said she was in and out of consciousness. She probably doesn’t even remember calling for him.”

“Why are you so opposed to this reunion, Daisy?” Poppy asked.

“Because of everything Evie—sorry, Sophie—told me about her father.”

“Daisy,” Allie said gently. “Sophie was lying to us about a lot of things.”

That was true. “Still,” she said, “maybe we should wait until Mr. Steuben’s actually in Yorktide before we tell her. What if Allie shows up at his door and he’s run off? Evie—Sophie—will be devastated all over again. She’s already been through so much.”

“I totally understand your feelings on this, Daisy,” Allie said, “I do, but I think we have to trust in what Dan’s brother and sister-in-law told Freddie. According to Joanne Shettleworth Dan rarely drank and was most certainly never an alcoholic, either before or after the accident. And according to Ron, Dan was a wonderful husband and father. They both suspect that Sophie needed to blame Dan for everything bad that happened because she couldn’t accept that her life had been so dramatically disrupted. By the way, she was never sent to live with one of Dan’s old friends. That was another lie.”

Daisy sighed. “Okay, fine. We’ll believe in the Shettleworths’ version of Evie’s father and hope for the best. Darn! I mean, Sophie. When am I going to get that straight!”

“And maybe you, Daisy, being her friend, should be the one to tell her that he’s coming to see her. If it wouldn’t make you too uncomfortable,” Poppy added.

I deserve to be made uncomfortable,
Daisy thought. By keeping Sophie’s secrets she had endangered her friend’s life. “No, I’ll tell her,” she said. “When we visit her this afternoon.”

“Where will Dan stay when he’s in Yorktide?” Poppy asked Allie.

“Billy’s taken care of that, too. Dan will stay with him.” Allie smiled. “He didn’t think it was the best idea for a strange man to be staying in a house full of women.”

“Billy should have known about Ian . . .” Daisy muttered.

The doorbell rang then and Poppy went to answer it. A moment later she returned with the infamous Nico.

Speaking of strange men,
Daisy thought, hiding a smile.

But Nico was all humility. “Sorry for just stopping by like this,” he said. “But I had to apologize in person. Well, sort of in person; I don’t think I’d be allowed to see Evie in the hospital, but you can apologize to her for me. Anyway, I feel like a certified heel. I never would have told Evie to leave if I’d known she had no money and nowhere to go. The idea that she was essentially homeless never even occurred to me!”

In spite of her prejudiced opinion of Nico as a heartless poseur, Daisy believed he was telling the truth.

“Well, it’s over now,” Poppy said. “She’s safe.”

“What can I do to help?” Nico asked.

“Befriend Sophie—that’s her real name—and her father if they decide to stay in Yorktide,” Allie said. “Maybe help them to find jobs or a place to live.”

Nico nodded. “All right. I’ll see what I can come up with. Call me when you know more.” With that he was gone.

“So that was Nico.” Allie shook her head. “Somehow I pictured him with a swirling mustache and a black cape. A cartoon villain.”

“By the way,” Daisy said, “I asked Billy how he had arranged for Evie to stay at Nico’s. He told me that back when Nico was just starting out as a working artist, Billy’s wife loaned him money for food and rent. They both knew he was on his way to some fame. And they agreed that they’d give him two years to repay them back. Long story short, it’s been ten years and Billy hasn’t seen a penny of the money. He figured Nico owed him.”

“Reciprocity makes the world go round,” Poppy said. “That’s something Mom used to say. We really do owe each other kindness in return for kindness.”

“For some reason that makes me think of Violet. Probably because she’s so kind. How is she today?” Allie asked.

“All right,” Daisy said. “She’s in her room with the ever-vigilant Grimace.”

Poppy shook her head. “I feel as bad about my neglect of Violet as Nico feels about throwing Sophie out of his house. It simply never occurred to me that Violet was in trouble. She always seemed so self-possessed. The poor thing. Having panic attacks and hiding the fact from me.”

“From all of us,” Allie pointed out. “None of us saw what was going on.”

“I hope she forgives us for not helping her sooner.” Daisy frowned. “I was so wrapped up in myself and then with Sophie. Hey, I got it right.”

“I’m the one who’s really responsible,” Poppy pointed out. “I’m her legal guardian. I’m her surrogate parent.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Poppy,” Allie said. “It’s hard to help someone who isn’t crying out for help, either directly or indirectly. Violet didn’t want us to see her fears so we didn’t. She’s got a powerful will, our Violet.”

“You’re talking about me.”

Daisy, Poppy, and Allie turned to see Violet standing in the doorway, Grimace draped across her arms.

“We were saying how much we love you,” Daisy told her younger sister.

Violet smiled. “Thanks. I love you guys, too. Can I have a piece of that cake?”

I
t was Daisy who had told Sophie that her father was coming to see her. Her first reaction had been to reject the notion of his visit. Daisy hadn’t asked why; she had held tightly to her hand and waited. And then, almost immediately, Sophie had found herself saying, “All right. I’m glad he’s coming.” Daisy still had said nothing, but had sat with her for a while until a nurse had come in and suggested Sophie be left alone to get some rest.

That morning Sophie had woken with a strong sense of urgency. She couldn’t bear for her father to see her looking sick or unkempt, no matter how low he himself might have fallen. She realized that she still wanted him to feel proud of her. So she had asked the nurse on duty if she could take a shower and wash her hair. The nurse had stood just outside the shower stall in case Sophie began to feel weak or dizzy, or in case she needed help as her left hand, bandaged and protected by a plastic bag, was pretty much useless. Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed to wear her own clothes, but the nurse had given her a fresh johnny and had somehow come up with a pretty blue cardigan for her to wear over her shoulders for the length of Dan Steuben’s visit. Seeing that Sophie was exhausted by her efforts, the nurse had also offered to dry and comb her hair. Her kindly attentions brought tears of gratitude to Sophie’s eyes.

Now she sat up against the pillows of her hospital bed, Ben at her side, and waited for the arrival of the man she had tried for so long to utterly reject.

At exactly two forty-five there was a knock on the door of her room. Sophie opened her mouth, but for a moment no words came out. And then she was able, in a small voice, to say, “Come in.”

The door opened slowly and there was her father. Dan Steuben. He closed the door behind him and stood, hands at his side. He was wearing a plaid shirt Sophie vaguely remembered. He looked thin but better—healthier—than he had when she had last seen him all those months ago. Or was that wishful thinking?

“Hi,” Sophie said.

Her father smiled. “Hi, Sophie.”

His voice. So well remembered! And the way his hair curled a bit around his ears. And his eyes, so like hers.
This is my father,
Sophie thought.
Mine
.

“How did you get here?” she asked. “To Maine.” Daisy might have told her this, but her short-term memory didn’t seem to be working so well these past few days.

“Your friends Allie and Billy drove to New Hampshire to pick me up,” her father explained. “I’ve been living just outside of Portsmouth. I got a job at a dry cleaners a few months back. It’s not much, but it’s helping me get back to . . . To life.”

“Oh,” Sophie said. “I mean, that’s good. Allie and Billy . . . They’re really nice. I like them.”

“And they like you. Billy said you’re the granddaughter he never had.”

“Where’s your cane?” she asked.

“I don’t need it all the time now.”

“Still, maybe you should sit down.”

With a slight limp, Dan walked over to the large gray guest chair by his daughter’s bed and sat. “How do you feel, Sophie?” he asked. “I heard you’ve been through quite an ordeal these last few days.”

“I feel okay,” she said. “Weak. A bit confused.”

“I’m not surprised. But the doctor said you’re going to be fine. They’ll keep you on antibiotics for a while though, just to be safe.”

Sophie nodded. “Dad? Are you . . .” She turned her head away. She was so scared of what his answer might be. She was so afraid that he would lie to her.

“No, Sophie,” he said, his tone firm. “I’m not taking the pills anymore. I haven’t been for the past five months. Some days are difficult—the pins the doctors put in hurt . . . But I’m done with the drugs for good. I promise. I’m . . . I’m in a better place, especially now that I know you’re okay.”

Sophie turned back to him. “Okay,” she said. She believed her father. She had to believe him.

Her father reached out then and touched her right hand where it lay against the white sheets. After a moment, Sophie took his hand in hers.

“Your wedding ring,” she said, feeling the smooth metal beneath her fingers. Billy Woolrich, she remembered, still wore his, too.

“I’ve never taken it off.”

Sophie thought of what her cousin, Alexa, had told her about her father. That he was at times homeless. She would ask him about that, but not yet. “But you could have sold the ring,” she said. “It could have bought you food or . . .” Or a hotel room where he could have stayed for a few nights.

“No,” her father said firmly. “I couldn’t have. Better to go hungry than let this bit of her go. This bit of
us
. I loved her, Sophie. I’d give anything to trade places with her. If only it had been me who had died. Then you’d still have your mother. She was so strong. Stronger than me.” Dan smiled. “She used to say that I was the romantic in the family and that she was the one with the practical head.”

Sophie felt tears come to her eyes. Her poor father. And to think she had been so angry at him for being sick and depressed that she had thrown out the photo from her mother’s locket! She would never tell him what she had done and she would replace the photo as soon as she could.

“Oh, Dad,” she said. “I wish you wouldn’t feel that way. It wasn’t your fault, any of it. I’m sorry I couldn’t—no, I’m sorry that I
wouldn’t
believe that.”

Her father leaned in toward her and looked intently into her eyes. “You were hurt, Sophie. Devastated. No one could expect you to just accept what had happened. It was perfectly normal for you to need to affix blame somewhere. And I was the obvious choice.”

“But I shouldn’t have tried to
punish
you. I should have seen that you were hurting and helped you. I’m so sorry that I let you down.”

“It’s me who let you down, Sophie. I did try, honestly I did, but... I failed.” Dan Steuben put his other hand over Sophie’s. “But now,” he said, “it’s all right. Everything is going to be all right. Even Ben thinks so. Right, Ben?”

Sophie smiled. “I know I have to apologize to Aunt Joanne and Uncle Ron. When I . . . When I left, I guess I really wasn’t able to understand the trouble I was causing them. I was just so miserable. I wasn’t thinking right. I hope they can forgive me.”

“I’m sure they can,” her father assured her. “I’m sure they already have. They’ve been beside themselves worrying about you. They thought that maybe it was something they said or did that made you run away.”

“No. They were nice to me. It wasn’t that.”

“Well, that’s all in the past now, Sophie. We have our entire future ahead of us.”

“That’s kind of scary.”

“Yes,” her father said. He leaned closer and gently kissed his daughter’s cheek. “But it’s also kind of wonderful.”