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Mom narrowed her eyes. “You’ll call her now. She wanted to talk to you, so you will make the time. She’s your sister.”
“Fine. I’ll call her now.” I held up my phone, and my mother seemed appeased, closing the door with a decisive click.
Wanting to get it over with, I called Whitney, hoping she wouldn’t answer. Of course, she answered, probably to spite me.
“Took you long enough to return my call,” she said by way of greeting.
“Be happy I called you back at all,” I volleyed back.
“How’s Mom? She says she’s fine, but she’d say that even if she wasn’t.”
I pulled on my shorts and wiggled into a tank top. My hair was wet and dampening the thin cotton. I rooted around for the hairdryer. I hastily straightened the sheets that were still rumpled from Adam’s morning visit. Two condom wrappers poked out from beneath my pillow, and I quickly bundled them in a tissue and shoved them to the bottom of my trash can so my mother wouldn’t see them when she emptied it.
“Well, you’d know what she was like if you actually came home to see for yourself.” I couldn’t stop myself from snapping.
“That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you.” Whitney’s words brought me up short.
“What do you mean?” I asked hesitantly.
“This movie is going to finish up sooner than I thought, so I planned to come home for a while. Help out a bit. I know I’ve left all the heavy lifting to you—”
“What else is new?” I interjected, then wished I had bitten my tongue.
“You’re delightfully bitchy this morning. What’s gotten you so ruffled?” There was a pause. “Or should I say who?”
I didn’t bother to respond. “So when are you planning to head stateside? I need to book the ticker-tape parade.”
It was Whitney’s turn to ignore me. “Mom says she’s hoping to get the house listed by the end of the summer. But…”
There was always a ‘but’ with Whitney. She used to be so different. She had been kind and considerate; she had been my best friend. Now, after so many years of her living a world away, she felt like a stranger. The life she had chosen seemed to have eaten something out of her, and I wasn’t sure she’d ever get it back. It saddened me.
“But what?”
“Maybe I could buy the house.”Whatever I expected my sister to say, it wasn’t that.
“Excuse me?” I demanded.
“I’ve got money saved up, and I don’t like the thought of someone else living in our home. It doesn’t feel right. I know you agree with me, Meg.”
Of course, I did. Since coming back to Southport, the idea of selling Mom and Dad’s house started to feel unbearable like slicing off a piece of Dad that could never be replaced. But I also didn’t like the idea of Whitney claiming it for herself. Why did she get to ride in and play the hero?
“Mom will never let you do that,” I pointed out. And I was right. It was the Galloway pride again. If it looked like charity, Mom would spit in its face.
“I know that. Which is why I need you to help me talk her into it.”Whitney said it all matter of factly. A big part of me agreed with her. It would solve Mom’s problems; we wouldn’t have to say goodbye to the house Dad had helped build for us.
“I’ll come back to Southport for a while. Take a break. Spend time with Mom—”
“Wait a minute; you want to move back here?” Nope. No way.
“Am I not allowed to come home? Weren’t you just giving me shit for not being there?” she asked, her voice tight.
“But to live here? With Mom? With me? In Southport? I don’t think that would work out too well.”
“Well, if I move home, you can head back to New York. I know that’s what you want to do. You hate Southport. Consider it a sisterly favor.”
I could get back to New York. Isn’t that what I wanted? I had no plans to stay in Southport for longer than necessary. My guts twisted painfully for some inexplicable reason.
“So I’m guessing you’re heading back here soon?”
“I’ll be done with this job in three weeks. I’ll let you know when I book a flight.”
I could be back in New York within the month. I should be overjoyed. Damn it, why wasn’t I overjoyed?
“Okay, well, I’ll talk to you soon, I suppose.”
“It’ll be good to see you, Meg,” Whitney said, sounding strained.
“Try to say it as you mean it,” I joked with more than a little sincerity.
“Ha, ha. Okay, I’ve got to go. Tell Mom I’ll call her later.”
I hung up the phone, quickly dried my hair, and headed downstairs to find Mom in the garden. “I called Whit. She says she’s flying home in a few weeks.”
