Page 65 of Dearly Departed

“Well, that’s not an excuse.” Elise sits up straighter next to me. She smells like sugar and almonds and cake fresh out of the oven. “We need to be there for you. However you need us to be. This whole—” She waves a hand in the air. “—transatlantic thing can’t stop us from doing what’s right. We can’t go on this way.”

“What if she wants it to go on this way?” Lydia asks from my other side. “Maybe she and Jacob are, like, blissfully happy in London as long as there’s not some creepy guy trying to freak them out.”

My emotions all spill out of the hidden pocket in my imaginary bag. I keep thinking that tiny space is enough to keep them out of sight, but it’s not.

“I don’t think—oh, damn.” More tears. The ache in my chest comes roaring back, and it’s hard to breathe, and it’s stunning, honestly, how fine I can be seconds before it all comes crashing down.

My sisters hold me and wipe away my tears until I can breathe again.

“Is it the ordeal?” Lydia brushes away one more tear with a tissue. “Because if it is, we can talk about it. And if you murdered somebody, it’s, like, totally okay.”

“I didn’t. Jacob did, though. The pilot—” I shake my head. “It was very fucked up. And Jacob isn’t taking it well.”

Lydia nods solemnly. A noise rises from the first floor. It’s clearly Jacob, crying.

My sisters and I exchange a look.

“It’s, like, really bad.” It feels like such a shameful thing to say, even though I know it’s not. “I think it’s been bad for a long time. I think he might need more than just me.”

My heart pounds. How is this as scary as a plane crash? I never wanted my sisters to worry about me. I wanted them to think my life was perfect. In lots of ways, it was. I’ve been happier with Jacob than I ever was at home.

“I’m worried that I’m betraying him by saying this to you.” It comes out in a rush. “I’m worried you’ll think I’m hiding something sinister about him, but I’m not. I swear I’m not.”

There’s a silence. Oh my God. Is one of my sisters going to confess that they always thought there was something sinister about Jacob?

“Catherine.” Elise’s voice is warm and gentle and stoic in an older-sister way. “I would never want you to think—” Her arm tightens around me. “I know you can take care of yourself, and I know you can take care of Jacob. But sometimes people need help.” Another pause. “I think you’re right. I think Jacob needs to have family around him, and I think you do. You’ve been brave and strong for a long time, and I’m—I’m very proud of you.”

“You shouldn’t be.” I’m going to cry again. “Because when we were on the plane, I thought Jacob was—I thought he was my passionate hobby. Because I don’t want to do anything without him. I want to decide things together. And that’s the opposite of everything I stand for. It makes me like Mom.”

“No way.” There’s steel in Lydia’s voice. “If anything, Mom wishes she was like you. She never gave herself time to find out what she liked, and she stayed with a man who was never going to let her. It’s—” Lydia falters. “It’s okay to be in love. It’s okay to be passionate about someone.”

“That’s right,” Elise says.

“I am passionate. And I’m scared. I missed all the signs when we were in London. What if I miss them again? What if I really am as naïve as everybody thinks?”

“You’re not.” Elise is so confident that it must be true. “We’ll be here for you however you want, Catherine. If you decide to go back to London, just the two of you, then we’ll support you from here. I won’t try to stop you.”

It feels like she’s leaving something out.

“You won’t try to stop us. Are you implying that Gabriel would?”

My older sister laughs. “He might try to stop you, yes. And his siblings might help him. He’s really worried about Jacob. He’s been sick over it since he got that letter. We all want to make sure you’re both all right before we send you across the ocean again.”

I imagine what it would be like to get on a plane and leave my sisters behind.

No. I can’t do it.

“I might not actually be that fine,” I admit. “I might sob for, like, a month.”

“Someone very wise once told me about the duality of life,” Lydia intones. “Sometimes you’re on top of the world. Other times, you’re in a plane crash.”

“I didn’t say that. I was talking about Elise being upset because of the murder thing.”

“I thought we agreed that wasn’t full murder,” says Elise.

“Sorry. The partial murder.”

“It was a full plane crash, though.” Lydia sighs. “The duality of life.”