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I wander into the living room and wonder why we have one as I flounce down on the cushion in the bay window. I stare out into the street and wait. Our neighbors live in repositories just like the one I sit in. I never see anyone on the street.
Why did I even ask about Astrid? I see the irony in our situation. My father wanted her mother. My boyfriend wants my half-sister. Is that the fate of the women in our family? To get the ring but lose the man? I watch as a large black town car pulls up to the house. No, Astrid shouldn’t be here—she would do something crude and upstage my mother at her own wake.
I open the door to the driver. “Good morning,” I smile, “I’ll go get my father.”
“Thank you, miss.” He touches his hat. “My condolences.”
I smile again. “Thank you.”
He looks at me oddly. Maybe I shouldn’t smile so sweetly, considering the occasion. My mother would tell me to sit up and not act like my life is hard and spoil my birthday party for my guests. I can’t remember the last time we had a party in this house.
No, Astrid would have been a mistake. Though I feel I ought to answer her texts. She would know how to show grief and not give two fucks about who was embarrassed by her emotional display. I can imagine her screaming and cursing, wailing over the coffin while I sat next to her, smiling and offering to do someone’s nails.
I moan.
“Are you well?” My father frowns at me as if he’s daring me to shed a tear.
“The car is here,”
He frowns harder. “Charlotte, when are you planning to return to school?”
I look at his sullen expression and wonder how my mother didn’t go mad, kissing that face.
I sigh loudly. “Drop me off at Stonehaven on the way back, Daddy.”
