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"Selfie!" Sheila squeals, dashing around the table and whipping her phone out. She grabs me around my shoulders and pulls me in next to her, snapping the picture before I can even try to wiggle free.
As Sheila looks at the picture, her grin broadens. "Wow," she says. "I didn't even have to tickle you that time. That's a real smile there, Denise."
"Of course it is," I tease back. "I just feel like indulging you in your weird selfie obsession today. You're welcome."
"Based on earlier, I wasn't sure I'd see a smile from you today."
I blink. "What do you mean?"
Her eyes meet mine, filled with concern. "When we got to the bakery earlier, it looked like you had been crying."
Glancing behind me to make sure Sophia hasn't heard, I grab Sheila by the arm and gently tug her across the room, pretending to admire the huge painting of Tinsley and Ford with her.
Already, Sheila is rolling her eyes. "Don't lie to me, Denise. I know you well enough to know that—"
"I'm not going to lie, Sheila," I insist, lowering my voice as if afraid my words will echo through the huge room. "Yes. I was crying."
"What's going on?"
Biting my tongue for a moment, I search for what to say. But, finally, I decide that honesty is the best medicine for my nerves. It felt surprisingly freeing to tell Brett the truth this morning. There's no reason telling my sister shouldn't feel the same way.
"To be honest, I woke up feeling very stressed this morning," I say, watching her eyes for her reaction.
"Because of the wedding?"
"I just need this job to go perfectly. Before, I needed it to be perfect to keep the bakery going. And even though that isn't happening, I still need it for my pride."
Sheila's expression turns terribly bitter. "I'm never going to get over what that stupid landlord did. If I ever meet him, I'll punch his lights out."
"But now it's just about the money, Sheila. I… I did something…. Something I shouldn't have done. And today is really my last chance to make everything right again."
As I tell her about taking the money from Sophia's college fund, I feel the weight of my secret finally leaving my shoulders. It's like I can fully breathe for the first time in months. Even with the pressure still lingering, not having to worry about my secret anymore, no longer leaving it to fester inside, is such a freeing feeling.
But… there's something off about Sheila's reaction to all of this. As I tell her about what I did, she doesn't jump to her usual supportive, problem-solving self. Instead, she's…. I'm not sure.
"Denise, I…." She swallows, her eyes searching the floor. "I can't believe that you would do something like that."
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks to the chest. It's unprecedented. "You… what?"
"I can't believe that you did that," she repeats, a little louder this time. "I mean, I knew things were bad for you, but…. To sink that low."
"'Low?'" It's almost like I'm in a haze, in a dream. Sheila isn't being supportive. She isn't having my back. "What happened to my sister?"
"What happened tomine?" she asks, anger flashing in her eyes. "As a mother myself, I would never do something like that to my child. I told you toaskfor help, not to take it!"
I wave my hand, gesturing for her to quiet down. "Don't let Sophia hear you. I'm going to fix everything today."
"You should," Sheila says. "But the most important part of fixing it isn't tellingmeabout it. It's being honest with your daughter. Makingamends. Not doing things behind her back. She's an adult now. She deserves your respect."
"You don't understand," I hiss through my teeth, anger flaring up inside me too. "You don't know what it's like to have all this pressure on your shoulders. To struggle to live up to the family name! To a mother who you don't look like, who you don't even share blood with."
Sheila's mood is fully soured now. The furrow of her brow deepens, and her frown grows, revealing the start of age lines on that too-perfect face.
And as she finally says, her tone dark and distant, "Mom would never have done this," my heart drops through me like a rock. In that one instant, with those few words, all my anger fizzles and dies, leaving nothing but a gaping hole in its wake.
* * *
Throughout the ceremony,I try my best to smile and act like nothing is wrong. But after my talk with my sister, it's hard.
