In her fancy outfit that isn’t from the big box store up the road from here.
My eyes track the toes of her heels burrowing into the ground as she rests back on her legs, paying no attention to the mess she’s creating of her precious outfit.
I must be about to start my period, because that shouldn’t make my eyes sting. The past few weeks have me all fucked up, this nonstop emotion turning me into someone I don’t even recognize.
The pit of my stomach turns heavy, then hollows out at the thought of another fight with her.
I’m so tired of being angry, I’m sick of not having my sister. I truly don’t know if I have the strength to battle it out with her again.
Wilder’s words come back to me, centering me.
Don’t push her away. If you need to lash out at someone, lash out at me.
Nodding at him, I prep myself to keep my tongue on a leash today, to not inflict any more damage on her.
Defensive walls rising in place, my eyes move up to meet the ones that look just like mine. Just like our mom’s.
They’re softer than I expect, not much lighter than the soil I’m entrenched in, but full of so much depth. A rainbow of emotions blinks back at me, from sorrow, to regret, to so much love my breath hitches.
She speaks quickly, before I get the chance. “I met with Dad.”
“What?”
“After I read the letters. I went to see him.”
“Where? What happened?” My words stumble over one another, racing to get past my tongue faster than the one before it.
She smiles fondly at my eagerness, and I try not to bristle. “We went for coffee in his town. Didn’t need all the old biddieshere talking about it.” She adds that last part under her breath, and we both huff a small laugh at the truth in the words.
Very few things manage to stay a secret in the Heights.
“And?” I whisper.
She tosses her head side to side, her smooth brown hair I pretend I’m not jealous of flipping with the motion. My curls have never looked that sleek a day in their lives.
“We caught up,” she says quietly, hands resting on her knees. “He filled me in on his life, and I…filled him in on mine.”
I’m not sure what I expected today, but this certainly wasn’t it. Breathless, I watch on, waiting for more from her.
“It wasn’t easy,” she admits, one shoulder popping up elegantly. “I almost didn’t go. Okay, so I tried to turn around and come home instead of parking, Wyatt talked me out of it. Said I could do it for you.”
Her doe eyes look up at me shyly, and I’m surprised at the warmth that floods the cavity in my chest when she says it.
“So I went through with it, and it was…nice.” She settles on a word that can have so many different inferences, but in this case, there’s nothing nasty in her tone.
“Nice?” I repeat, and she nods.
“Those letters helped me see that as much as I’ve hated him for what he did, he’s not the only one who hurt this family.”
My lips pop open, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this speechless in my entire life.
“I mean,” she rushes to continue, “obviously I knew I hurt you guys. Hello.”
She pulls a face, like she’s thinking back to the months and months she spent trying to make it up to Mom, to me, to Wyatt, when she first came back.
“But seeing it through his lens, and Mom’s.” Her eyes water and she looks off to the side, collecting herself. “It really put it into perspective.”
I nod, settling further in, shifting from my knees to my butt and crossing my legs. I’m even more surprised when she follows suit.
