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“It actually made me feel badly for you,” she said.
Was my sister taking my side a little? “Well, that isn’t the same as saying I didn’t deserve it, but I’ll take it.”
“I wouldn’t.”
So much for a nice sisterly moment.
She looked at herself in the mirror, doing a once-over of her tired face, giving up. “So there’s a wedding at the Maidstone tonight. And usually when I have a wedding, Thomas is the one watching Sammy.”
“Are you inviting me to stay?”
“Not exactly.” She swayed from foot to foot uncomfortably. “I’m saying that the world has conspired in your favor and injured my boyfriend.”
I thought of the awful story in the New York Post, Danny’s face when a punk at work showed it to him. Would he throw it away, feeling a small pang and moving past it? Was that what I was to him now? Someone he needed to figure out how to move past? I thought of Danny and then I thought of my gutted career: my cancelled contracts, my lack of liquidity, the fact that there was no one in the world who wanted anything to do with me at the moment. Karen McCarthy was tweeting out to her hundred gossipy followers about our run-in. Amber Rucci was relishing in her victory. “I’m pretty sure that’s not the case, but again, I’ll take it,” I said.
“Well,” she said, “Thomas has been hospitalized five times since he started riding that thing, so probably not.”
“Someone should take that bike away from him.”
“Nobody’s perfect,” she said, her voice defensive, the way she used to get about our father.
She looked down, as if considering how she’d gotten herself into this bind, then deciding there was no time for such contemplation.
“Sammy has a science experiment she needs to do for camp on Monday. Would you be able to help her with it?”
“What kind of camp is that?”
“A camp where they like to learn,” she said.
“Sammy is a special kid, isn’t she?”
“How many ways are you going to ask that?”
I didn’t have a good answer, and Rain wasn’t looking for one anyway. She didn’t want to talk about Sammy with me—which was fine. I didn’t want to talk to her, either.
She paused. “Here’s the thing,” she said. “I don’t want her getting attached to you today.”
“There’s not much risk of that if I have to make her do a science experiment.”
“Forget it. I’m going to take her with me.”
“No, no! Rain, it’s fine.”
“Just leave out any stories about our childhood. Anything about how her mommy used to be. I’m serious.”
I nodded, and it occurred to me that we were both hiding who we used to be from the people that mattered the most.
“Look, Sammy’s in camp Monday to Friday. She’s been going since school let out, thank goodness, because last year she refused.” She shook her head. “But Independence Day at the inn is very busy, and I have no weekend plan for her. Thomas was my weekend plan for her. So I guess, for right now, we’re both out of great options.”
“It’s nice to have something in common.”
20
In case you’re worried that this was going to turn into a story about a woman realizing her childhood home was where she always belonged, please keep in mind that I hated being back in Montauk. I hated dealing with my sister and her unfair judgment. I hated looking at our childhood house and knowing she got ripped off, selling it for a quarter of what it was worth.
The address alone should have scored her a hefty sum. It was entirely about what was just outside those windows: the most gorgeous view of Montauk’s pristine beaches.
You walked out the back door and down a pair of rickety stairs, and there you were. The Atlantic Ocean was stretched out before you, its quiet white beaches as far as the eye could see.
