The momfigure, at least.
Something in her heart ached, a sort of mourning for the sisterhood they’d missed out on. The friendship. All the things that had to recede while Ramona tried to be everything to Olive.
Ramona walked over to the bed. “Can I sit?”
“I guess.”
Olive was in jeans and a tee, her knees pulled tight to her chest. She clicked her phone dark and stuffed it under her butt.
Ramona settled next to Olive, her back against the headboard. “I didn’t tell you about meeting Dylan when I was younger because…” She trailed off. Sighed. “Because it was mine.”
Olive frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
Ramona rubbed her forehead. She wanted to be honest, but she didn’t want to hurt Olive either.
“When Mom left,” Ramona started, “my whole life changed.”
Olive looked down. “I know.”
“I know you know. But I never want you to feel the weight of that, Ollie. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t mine. It washers. And I wouldn’t give up our life together—mine and yours—for anything. Okay?”
Olive nodded, her lower lip trembling a little.
“But that night I met Dylan,” Ramona went on, “Mom had just left. Dad was wrecked, you were a baby. And I couldn’t fix any of it.”
“You were just a kid.”
“Who had to grow up really fast,” Ramona said. “And that memory about Dylan was like this little pocket of time where I was just a girl.”
“Standing in front of the daughter of really famous rock icons?”
Ramona laughed, slung her arm around Olive’s shoulder. “Yes. Exactly. Though I didn’t know it was her at the time.”
“Really?”
Ramona shook her head. “I’m not sure I would’ve even recognized her name then, though I did know her dad’s band. But we didn’t share names.”
Olive’s eyes popped. “You didn’t?”
“Nope. Fake names.”
“Okay, I have to know this story now. Will you tell me? Please?”
Ramona smiled, leaned her head against her sister’s, and told her the tale of two lonely girls on a moonlit beach in July.
“That’s a pretty great story,” Olive said when Ramona was done.
“I think it might be,” Ramona said.
“And…she’s in your room right now, right?”
Ramona stiffened, but then sighed. Not like she could deny it. “Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
Ramona laughed.
“Dad would be scandalized,” Olive said. “Sex under his roof!”