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She slides a couple hot cookies on a plate and puts it in front of me. Then she puts another sheet in the oven and sits back down beside me. “So,” she picks up one of the cookies and breaks it apart, a tendril of steam rising from the center, “you’re sleeping with your best friend’s little sister. And you’re keeping it a secret from him.”
“We were. He knows now.”
“Well, you’re intact, so it must have gone somewhat well.” She looks at me with concern. “Why so sad though? Why are you up here on Sunday afternoon instead of planning out the workweek in the city? And why are you still in your clothes from last night?”
“I stayed with Claire last night. When I was getting ready to leave, Con knocked on the door.”
“Ah, the jig was up.”
“Yep. Anyway, while I was telling Con I was in love with Claire, she was saying it was just sex and casual.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah.”
“You love her?”
“So much it hurts,” I say with a nod.
“Do you think she thought it was just casual?”
I think about that for a minute. Could it have been just causal for her? “I don’t think so. Obviously, I could be wrong, but our connection felt deeper than that. It definitely always felt like we were on the same wavelength.”
Mom scratches her chin, a habit of hers when she’s thinking. “Can I tell you a story about Claire?”
I nod.
“One time I was picking Gwen up from the dance studio, she must have been in high school. I was waiting outside one of the empty rooms, and I could hear someone in there practicing alone. Over and over, doing the same moves. I poked my head in to see who it was, and there was Claire. She must have been ten or eleven.
“She couldn’t see me, but I stayed there, watching. She seemed upset; every once in a while, a tear would fall, and she’d wipe it away quickly with a look of disgust on her face,” she smiles ruefully at the memory. “She was trying to hit a combo with a turn at the end and every time she would miss, she’d say out loud, ‘if you’re not the best, you’re the worst.’
“My heart broke, right then. Imagine being that young and putting that much pressure on yourself. After hearing her tell herself that the third time, I stepped into the room and called her name.” She chuckles a little.
“I didn’t realize facial expressions could be genetic until I watched her face transform from young and sad and vulnerable to an exact match of Connor’s cold and defiant mask that he’s worn since birth. I mean, they might as well be one being poured into two bodies for how similar they can be.”
“Accurate assessment.”
“I asked if I could help her, if she was okay. Her response was to tell me she was fine, just working on cleaning up a piece. She wasn’t rude, but she wasn’t interested in having a heart-to-heart either. Gwen walked up just then, so we went home, and in the car Gwen said Claire had been working for hours. So much focus. So much passion. So much dedication.
“Imagine,” she continues, “how hard this time must be for her. I know you and she have become closer, but something to remember is that she spent four years alone at boarding school in Ireland. She’s probably used to relying on herself. I doubt she knows how to open up and be fully vulnerable for anyone.”
It’s a bit fucked that I didn’t think of that before. I was so focused on my feelings and trying to find a way to help her that I didn’t stop to let her be. The realization hits me that she’s been surrounded by fixers her whole life, no one who just sits with her in the experience. I should have held space for her in a way she’s never had before.
“That’s not to say you should just go barging back into her life,” Mom adds. “Maybe time apart will help you both gain clarity. Whether that’s a path forward together or not is anyone’s guess. I do want you to make sure you are keeping yourself as a priority though. She’s going through a lot, but don’t drown yourself keeping her afloat.”
“Yeah.” I sigh and blow out a breath.
“Now. Repairing your friendship with Connor should be your main focus. Obviously, keep watching out for Claire like you have been, specifically with the catch and kill, but Connor probably feels very betrayed.”
“He does. He tried to punch me as soon as he put everything together, but I blocked him and told him if we’re going to fight, it will be with words and not fists.”
“The fact that you were able to block and stop him is promising.”
“The girls were in the room, I’m sure he didn’t want to upset them.”
“Still. He’s not the most even tempered in the best of times, when emotions are high, he always goes with physical violence first.”
“I’ll figure everything out with him. Don’t worry.” I take a bite of a cookie and watch my nephews jumping off the diving board.
“How long are you going to stay?”
“I don’t know. A few days, maybe. I’m sure Gwen and Penelope can handle things without me.”
“That they can. You’re welcome to take any of the guest rooms or the pool house.”
