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“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Daniel bit.
“May be nice, though, if you explained yourself to me,” I butted in.
Daniel’s jaw rippled.
“Did you?” I pushed.
Daniel said nothing.
Portia said nothing.
“Answer her,” Lou demanded of Portia.
Shocker.
Even though Lou was family, she never butted into family stuff, not even when Dad was alive. And she never pushed anything. Ever. Particularly with Portia.
“What happened last night?” she asked.
“Danny and Portia left carnation bouquets for Daphne the two nights they’ve been here. The same type of bouquets David would leave for Dorothy because she loved carnations. Hence, she chose that room. And when David’s wife was away, and Dorothy would come to play, that’s where they’d tryst. Even Virginia came to understand that had become Dorothy’s room.”
And there was the explanation behind the reason Lady Jane seemed so shaken when I mentioned the carnations last night.
I didn’t freak out about all this new knowledge that only made what Portia did worse.
But Lou sure as hell did.
“You know your sister isn’t good with that kind of thing,” she snapped.
Actually snapped.
“Lou, it doesn’t have anything to do with—” Portia began.
Lou interrupted her. “I’m a part of this family, whether you like it or not. I care about you and your sister. So it has something to do with me, knowing you’d be so thoughtless. I mean, honestly, Portia. What do you think your sister does all day? And she’s here. Do you not get what that means? You can’t,” she answered her own question. “If you did, you wouldn’t be playing your usual mind games.”
“Mind games?” Portia spat.
“Mind games,” I said calmly.
Because…yes. Spot on. I finally got it, and Lou obviously already knew it.
That was what it always was.
Portia getting into trouble, and dragging me in. Portia pushing Dad and getting something out of the fact his need to become stricter and more demanding of her meant he did the same with me. Portia playing on my sympathies and my big sister loyalty and Lou’s need for her love and approval. Portia pulling shit like she did last night for whatever she got out of doing things like that.
It was all just mind games.
Portia opened her mouth.
But I was done with this.
“It was you and I know it. Daniel doesn’t want to throw you under the bus, and you sure as hell don’t have the maturity to cop to it, but it was you. Daniel told you the story of Dorothy and David, and you knew I’d look into things when you asked us here. It’s tragic, mysterious and spooky, with Dorothy supposedly haunting this house, a famous story I couldn’t miss. You hatched your scheme and got Daniel to play along with it.”
As it had been last night, the guilt was written all over her face.
I was done with Portia’s guilt too.
So I kept going, “It wasn’t nice. It hurt my feelings. But it’s over, and we’re moving on. Not with forgiveness,” I hastened to add when Portia seemed to settle down and the familiar I-got-away-with-it smirk started to form on her mouth. “You haven’t said you’re sorry. But I have to share I am so…fucking…done. With all of it. And there’s more. And I want that done too, so we’re moving on.”
