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When we were much, much younger. She was Lizzie, my friend. But that didn't last long.
I don't even know why I still try to hold onto that long-forgotten version of her. Of our relationship. Sometimes I wonder if I made it up like lonely kids who have make-believe friends.
Staring at her now, we're strangers.
Two women born of the same parents and miles apart from one another.
“What are you doing in Rosewood, Elizabeth?” I do my best to keep my voice even.
“I was touring in Europe when Grandmother's will was read. This is the only time I could come back.” She flicks her fingers in the air, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“Oh, okay. Well, I'm glad you got to come back.” I don't know what I was expecting. I really don't.
Except that's not entirely true.
I don't know why, but I guess I thought she was here to see me. Like maybe she heard I was staying in Rosewood and wanted to see me on the most neutral territory the two of us have ever had.
“Is that all you have to say?” Lizzie raises an eyebrow high above her sunglasses, her voice dripping with condescension.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, my frustration leaking through.
She sucks her teeth as she presumably stares at me. “I want you to tell me why Grandmother left you Magnolia Lane when Mom has been promising it to me since I was eight. Do you have any idea how much money it's worth?” She's nearly seething by the end of that little speech.
I bet she'd be horrified to know she has a vein throbbing along her temple right now.
I sigh, unimpressed by her antics. My sister is a world-renowned violinist. So talented that she has companies competing for the chance to pay her thousands and thousands of dollars to tour with them. What the hell does she care about money?
“I don't know, Lizzie,” I say, my voice heavy with the emotional load it always seems to have whenever she's around.
“Elizabeth,” she barks, emphasizing her name.
I continue like she didn't interrupt me, “Mom shouldn't have promised you something that wasn't even hers to begin with. I didn't even know about it until Mr. Robert told me.”
She scoffs. “Right, I'm so sure Little Miss Perfect, Innocent, and Sweet Evangeline had no idea, huh?”
Her words are biting and her expression is cut from stone, sharpened with the intention to cause as much damage as possible.
I clench my jaw and try to hold back the anger that's bubbling up inside me. It's always been like this with Lizzie. She always has to find a way to make me feel small, likeI'man inconvenience.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to give me Magnolia Lane. It should be mine. I deserve it,” she says, her voice firm. She tilts her head back and drops her shoulders like she expects me to cave in immediately.
“What?” I sputter, my mouth falling open. “I'm not doing that.”
She takes a step forward, like she means to intimidate me. “It's the right thing to do. And isn't that your thing?”
I shake my head, my eyes blurring with a sheen of tears. I hate that she's like this to me. And I hate that my body's response to extreme anger is tears. Like that's ever helped anyone.
She scoffs and leans back. “Ugh, don't start crying. That might've worked on Grandmother, but you know I'm immune to your antics.”
I rear back and look at her. Really look at her. She's thin, too thin probably. Thanks to whatever fad diet my mother is shoving down her throat these days. Her hair looks duller than usual, and her ends aren't the same razor-sharp edge they usually are.
“They’re not antics, and I'm not your enemy. I can't change Nana Jo's will and neither can you. These were her wishes, Lizzie.”
“I don't have time for this. I have rehearsal tonight. You know, for the world tour I currently stepped away from to come to this shit podunk town. You'll be hearing from my lawyers, Evangeline.”
She didn't listen to a word I said. What else is new?
