“They were furious with me,” she goes on. “There was a lot of arguing, mostly while you were at school. On that, we agreed: we wouldn’t bring our dispute into your world.”
“But if you wanted to take care of me, why wouldn’t they let you?”
“There were a lot of reasons. I was twenty-five. I had no idea how to parent, and I was just getting on my feet financially. They wanted to keep you close—you’re a piece of Mom. But nothing they said dissuaded me.”
“But…why? Why were you so determined?”
“Because you’re my sister. I love you more than anyone in the world. And Grandma and Grandpa wanted to take you back to Albany. They would have moved you away from Gabi and the beach, enrolled you in a new school. I thought it was cruel to rip you away from everything you knew, especially after you’d already lost so much. Mom and Dad’s memory is here. If they couldn’t bring you up in Sugar Bay, I wanted to do it.” She shrugs. “The judge saw it my way.”
I’m still staring at her, trying to keep my breath steady as my perception of the past is reshuffled like a deck of playing cards.
“After the custody hearing, Grandma and Grandpa left. I know they’ve kept in touch with you and I’m glad about that,but they’ve hardly spoken to me. I don’t think they’ll ever forgive me.”
I reassess the hand I’ve been dealt. My grandparents’ rushed departure. Their refusal to return to Florida. The Christmas and birthday cards they send, generous checks enclosed, made out solely to me.
“Do you regret it?” I ask quietly.
“Piper, god. Of course not. I miss them and I wish things could be different, but I’d choose my life with you no matter the consequences.”
“That’s kind of funny, because I’ve always felt like I ruined your life.”
“I haveneversaid that.”
“You don’t have to. Our apartment, your job, your relationships,me—this isn’t what you imagined for yourself.”
“You’re right, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean I have regrets. I don’t like my job, but a lot of people would say the same. And you have nothing to do with my relationships, or lack thereof. Do I wish you’d keep your room clean and stick to curfew? Obviously. But you’re smart and determined and cool. I like to think I played a part in some of that. You bring me a lot of joy.” She sets her mug on the table and wraps me in a hug. “Honestly, Piper. You’re the part of my life I’m most proud of. I’m sorry for the times I’ve made you think otherwise.”
I hug her hard and say, weepy, “I’ll clean my room when we’re done here.”
She laughs, letting me go. “Maybe when you’re finished, youcan call Henry? He’s upset about his dad, but he’sveryupset about whatever went on between the two of you.”
I frown, raising my mental ramparts. What business is it of hers?
She gives me an encouraging smile. Her sincerity infiltrates my defenses, and I make a resolution: From now on, I’m going to be real with my sister.
I tell her about Henry and Whitney. The text I peeked at. The sorrow that swallowed me when he let me leave with Gabi, and never came after me.
“I can’t forget his expression when he saw me with Damon,” I say. “It was half a second, but it was like…he wondered, Tati. I’ve never felt less understood.”
“I get why you’re upset,” she says. Notdon’t be needyorquit being dramatic. “But, like you said, it was half a second. He must’ve been surprised or hurt. He didn’t have much information to go on. And he’s a seventeen-year-old boy. He’s kind and smart and principled, but he’s not immune to messing up.” She lifts her brows, a little smug. “And didn’t he redeem himself by punching Damon’s sleazy face?”
I give her a reticent smile. “He told you about that?”
“He showed me his busted hand. Generally, I think it’s gross when dudes fight. But for him to step up and protect you that way…he’s got it bad for you, Piper.”
My cheeks warm because god, this is a weird conversation to have with my sister. Still, her good sense supersedes my hasty presumptions. Now that she’s laid it out so rationally, it’s hard todeny: Henry cares about me.
“What about the text?” I ask. “He told Whitney he was planning to go back to Spokane. He told me the opposite. You don’t think he’s playing me?”
“I don’t think he has it in him to play you, but you won’t know until you have a conversation with him.” She reaches over to squeeze my hand. “I’m not going to bug you about it again. I know you’ll do the right thing.”
The right thing?Me?
I cringe, hanging on to her hand, hoping her benevolence lasts through what I’ve got to say next. “Yeah, speaking of doing the right thing…now’s probably the time to tell you that I’m unemployed.”
Henry
Dad looks like shit.
