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Authors: Mary Hogan

BOOK: Two Sisters: A Novel
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“Or see.”

With closed eyes, Lidia inhaled to fortify herself. “I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

The room seemed to shrink as Muriel said nothing. Lidia forced herself to confess. “A hundred times I’ve asked myself if it was truly love, or some twisted rebellion. The lure of the forbidden. But once I was pregnant with Pia, I knew it was real. We were both
happy.
Even though it was impossible, it’s what we wanted.”

“So why didn’t he skip the priesthood and marry you?”

With fresh layers of tissue pressed up to her perfect nose, Lidia shook her head. “It seems so crazy now, but we were worried about our reputations, our parents. They had strict”—she struggled for the word—“
expectations
. You know Papa. I couldn’t bear to destroy him. It would have ruined his life. His business. Cam’s parents were old school, too. They would have had to leave their small town. It seems so ridiculous now, but we never once thought we could defy them. It simply wasn’t done then. And we were weak, so we tried to figure out another way to have a family.”

“By tricking Dad.”

Hanging her head, Lidia whispered, “Yes.”

“How did he find out? I never told him about you and Father Camilo. I swear. I never told anyone.”

For the first time in forever, Muriel saw the softness of love in her mother’s eyes. “I know,
rybka
,” she said. “I could always trust you. As cruel as it was to make you keep my secret.”

Muriel gnawed on her inner lip to brake her emotions. No way would she let her mother off the hook. Not this easily. “So how
did
Dad find out?”

After gently blowing her nose again, Lidia said, “I suspect he knew all along. When Logan was born, he thanked me for giving him a son. He said, ‘Pia is part of you and Logan is part of me. We’re even.’ Right then, I knew that he knew something. Though we both pretended otherwise for years. I know he looked the other way every time I went into the city.”

Muriel stared at her feet.

“It’s amazing how raising children can manufacture a relationship. Mostly, our family was formed at the dinner table.”

As if reading her mind, Lidia added, “And, of course, years later, your father and I tried to create a family with you.”

A weighted silence followed in which Muriel wanted to ask the question she’d pondered for years: “Why
did
you have me?” But she knew the truth. Hearing it again wouldn’t change things. She’d been a mistake. Plain and simple. No need to go back there, not when she’d been so adept at moving forward lately. It was the same with Pia. She could conjure up a different relationship, one with the two of them lolling on her bed, sharing confidences, interlocking their sock-covered feet. At the end of her life, Pia would call out for the one person who knew her best, her sister. It would be
Muriel’s
hand Pia longed to hold, her eyes that would help her sister peer into the frightening abyss. Muriel’s heartbeat would be the pulse her sister would want to feel pressed into her flat palm. But none of it was true. Why go there when
there
didn’t exist?

“You said you had
two
questions,” Lidia said, eventually.

Muriel cleared her throat. “Didn’t Pia wonder why Logan never came home? I know I did.”

“We told her he wanted to go to art school year-round, which was true. We said he didn’t want to come home, that he had a new life he loved, which was also true.”

“Pia never questioned it?”

Lidia stood up and circled around to the side of Muriel’s bed. She reached her satiny hands up to cup her daughter’s cheeks. Muriel was too stunned to pull away.

“Your sister was never you. She didn’t want to look at unpleasant things. She didn’t need to know every truth. Pia—God rest her soul—was happy living in her protected, beautiful world.”

Almost to herself Muriel said, “Like you.”

Lidia dropped her arms to her sides. “Yes. Your father and I made it possible for Logan to live elsewhere. We thought it best for everyone. Did he tell you he was unhappy?”

“No,” Muriel answered, honestly.

“I’m glad for that. Still—” Lidia curled her lips around her teeth. She whispered, “I did love all wrong,” as if she had just that minute noticed it.

For the first time, Muriel saw herself through her mother’s eyes. In the midst of her false life, a very real child was born. With each breath, that child was a reminder of concessions made, silences settled into. So unlike her first daughter, Muriel must have perplexed her. Not only had Lidia never wanted her, once she had her, she didn’t know what to make of her.
It’s
chocolate
, Mama. The only thing better is more chocolate!
As the train jostled them from side to side on matinee Saturdays, Muriel would point to the pathetic faces peering out from behind sooty curtains a few feet from the elevated tracks and exclaim, “How lucky are they that the whole world passes right by their windows!”

With a penetrating stare, perhaps more deeply into herself than into her daughter’s eyes, Lidia said, “It’s too late for Pia, too late for me and Cam, for me and your dad, probably too late for Logan, too. The only chance I have left is with you, Muriel. My only daughter, my child. I don’t deserve you, but I pray that one day you’ll consider giving me a second chance.”

Muriel had not one clue about what to say. Her thoughts were tangled.
Is it possible you can look at a person your whole life and never see her at all? Can you live with a child who’s a stranger? Is a family really a family if they are only connected via DNA?

“Wait a minute,” she said suddenly. “Too late for you and Father Camilo? What happened to him?”

Seeming to crumple in on herself, Lidia said, “We both knew that Pia’s death was God’s punishment for our sin. Our penance was to separate. After Pia’s funeral mass Cam transferred to a parish somewhere in the south. I don’t know where. We never spoke again.”

“Oh, Mama.” Muriel’s heart softened. “Whoever God is or isn’t, I know He’s not hateful. He wouldn’t take Pia from you as a punishment. He’s forgiving and loving.” She stopped, sighed. “As He wants us to be.”

Lidia didn’t move. Her head dangled forward in sorrow. Sounds of first snow drifted up from the street. Children squealed, dogs yipped at disk sledders being pulled down her block. The rhythmic rasp of snow scrapers across windshields could be heard through the window. Finally, her breath hitching, Lidia said, “I miss her so very much.”

“Me, too.”

Surprising herself, Muriel stood to wrap her arms around her mother. Even more surprising, Lidia surrendered and hugged her back. Muriel felt their hearts beating in sync. Two hearts that were once one. She inhaled the scent she knew as well as her own. Her chin—with its soft divot—hooked over Lidia’s shoulder. Pressing her eyelids closed, Muriel envisioned the way she was once curled inside Lidia’s belly, leaching bits of her mother into herself. Growing into the person she would eventually be. Always, no matter what, they would be part of each other. She had the same mother Pia had. Always. No matter what.

“Maybe we can find our way back to each other?” Lidia asked.

“Maybe.”

“A tiny crack is the beginning of an open door.”

“No more secrets, no more lies?” Muriel whispered.

Stroking her daughter’s hair, Lidia squeezed even more tightly as she said, “Today, we are reborn.”

Melting into her mother’s embrace, Muriel smiled. She didn’t feel like squirming away as she usually did, before Lidia felt the roll of fat beneath her bra back, before she smelled the fruity aroma of her drugstore shampoo. Instead, she said, “Can we be reborn tomorrow? Tonight, I have a date.”

Lidia pulled back, her face alight. “A date? How wonderful. Who is he? Tell me everything. Where is he taking you?”

Grinning, Muriel said, “I’m meeting him in the dog run.”


Dog
run?”

A shadow of disapproval briefly clouded Lidia’s face. But she flicked her head to shake it off.

“Dress warmly,
moje kochanie
,” she said, gently pressing her lips to her daughter’s cheek.

P.S.

About the Author

Meet Mary Hogan

About the Book

Writing Through Grief

Author Q&A

Reading Group Discussion Questions

About the Author

Meet Mary Hogan

Mary Hogan is the author of seven young adult novels, including
The Serious Kiss
,
Perfect Girl
, and
Pretty Face
(HarperCollins).
Two Sisters
is her debut adult novel. Mary lives in New York City with her husband, Bob, and their dog, Lucy.

www.maryhogan.com

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www.AuthorTracker.com
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About the book

Writing Through Grief

I
BEGAN THIS NOVEL
two weeks after my sister, Diane, passed away. I finished it two weeks after my mother passed. Needless to say, the trash can beside my desk was full of tissues.

Diane’s death stunned me . . . even though I knew she was sick with breast cancer. My sister chose to leave earth quietly, telling only a select few that the end was near. Me, she didn’t tell. Or did she and I was unable to hear? Her passing left me with a hundred questions about denial (mine), privacy (hers), and sisterhood (ours). I needed to make sense of the senseless, so I wrote about it. By having my older sister “become” Pia for this book, I began to understand her in a way I never could have otherwise.
Two Sisters
was my grieving process.

That said, though I began writing with someone real in mind, Pia—and every other character in this book—quickly took on a life of his or her own. Particularly the character of the mother, Lidia, who is nothing like my own mother. It’s a wonderful moment for any novelist when her characters are truly
born
. That is, they cease to be depictions of real people and become themselves.

Through the characters of Pia and Lidia, I was able to explore the destructive power of secrets in a family. I was able to look at God and religion from a different perspective. Owen and Logan—the father and brother characters—taught me about the choices people make and the consequences they live with. And Muriel—the main character—showed me how resilience is the one trait that can trump all others. She also taught me to love Garrett’s popcorn while watching Triple D:
Diners, Drive-Ins
,
and Dives
.

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