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“Yes, I could have. It was after midnight. Nobody calls that late unless they need help. And clearly, you did.”
“Clearly,” she echoes.
There’s more she’s not saying. I brace for more questions. More of my own words, delivered back to me in a soft, gentle tone.
Why did I answer the phone? Because I saw her name, and I wanted her. I missed her. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to be a human instead of a husk. But a ride to Brentwood is the bare minimum, and I can’t apologize. It was better to break Elise’s heart early, before she discovers that there’s nothing here for her. I’m an island. A deserted one.
She doesn’t say anything.
This ache in my chest is hell. Being in the SUV is hell. I can smell the bakery on Elise’s skin and the alcohol on Lydia’s dress. Both of them deserve to have someone better than me to call on nights like this one.
And yet I will be damned if I drop them off at Elise’s place and leave them alone, where there’s no one to watch over them.
“Are your parents going to be looking for her?”
“One of them will have noticed she’s gone by now.” The glow of her phone lights up the back of the car, and Elise dims the brightness. In the rearview mirror her face dims with it. “I’ll let my mom know she’s with me so they don’t do anything drastic.”
Tonight. So they don’t do anything drastictonight.It takes quite a bit of effort to bite down on what I’d like to say about Elise’s parents. She didn’t think she could call them to come get her from the party. It’s the least they could do, and Lydia wouldn’t risk it.
Elise must be done with the text, because she switches off her screen.
She sounded panicked on the phone. As if she wasn’t sure I’d help her. It hurt. Of course it did. But I had no right to be hurt by it. I’d given her no evidence that I’d come when she called.
I would never have left her at that party. I would never leave you anywhere you didn’t want to be.
Can’t say any of that to her. Not now. Not ever.
I’m not going to let it get that far. Not again.
“Did you say you had clothes for Lydia?”
Yes. About a hundred years ago, I started to tell Elise about the clothes. “I was going to say that you don’t need to worry about finding clothes. I have a few things at home.”
“Women’s clothes?”
I could sayyes.I could let Elise believe that another woman’s forgotten pieces of clothing are hidden somewhere at the brownstone. That would be the prudent thing to do. It would push her away, even while she’s going to sleep under my roof tonight.
I can’t do it.
Which means I have to admit something worse.
“I keep a couple sets of clothes for Remy. They’ll be a little long on Lydia, but they’re basically new.”
“You keep clothes for your sister at your place?”
It’s a holdover from the days we all had to be ready at a moment’s notice to bail out Remy from one thing or another. Mason did his best. But in the beginning, he couldn’t alwaysmove.
“I’ve kept clothes for her since our parents died.”
“Does she ever come stay with you?”
It’s awful, how sweet she is. Elise’s voice has returned to sounding sincere.
Yes. All the time. All my siblings visit me all the time. I let them.“No.”
“Never?”
“She lives with Mason and she’s busy with college.”
