Alice blinks a couple times. “For…what?”
Isabella seems like she’s almost going to laugh, but not because something is actually funny. “For everything,” she says, her voice quiet and serious. “I didn’t…I think back when I was a kid and we moved away, I didn’t really get it. I didn’t fully understand what you were going through, and I had all these other cousins in Texas, and I…” She bites her lip, andAlice wonders if she’s going to sayforgot about you.“I had this whole new life,” Bella finally says. “And I didn’t understand that you didn’t too.”
That punches Alice in the gut a little bit, but she gets it. Kids are self-centered. It was Isabella’s parents’ job, her mom’s job, to remind her about Alice. To not have yanked her away from Alice in the first place.
“You were a kid,” Alice says, leaning forward. “You couldn’t have been expected to—”
But Isabella cuts her off, a wry smile on her face. “I haven’t been a kid in a long time, Alice.”
Well, she’s not wrong.
Alice waits, wondering what’s coming next. She’s honestly furious that Bella didn’t reach out when they moved back, and she’s curious to hear what Bella’s going to say about it.
“It wasn’t until college that I really started to look back and be like, okay, what the actual muck, you know? Like I put all of the pieces together, and only realized then that what happened was so messed up, that my mom totally dropped you and your dad, and that I had been, like, a horrible cousin.”
Alice shakes her head, more out of polite habit than honest disagreement, but Isabella keeps going. “But instead of reaching out then and being like ‘Wow, that was messed up, let’s be friends again,’ I think I got…ashamed.” She’s twisting her fingers. “I felt so shitty about how I’d ghosted you that I was too embarrassed to reach out. So I didn’t.”
Alice can tell from the fact that she cursed, actually saidshittyinstead ofshippyor whatever, even with Hazel right there on the rug with them, that she means it.
“I’ve regretted it, always,” Isabella says, looking right at Alice. “And I know this doesn’t make up for it, but I really…” She takes another long breath, like she’s bracing herself. “Ifyou could ever forgive me, I’d really like to be close the way we used to. You’re my family, and I don’t want it to be weird anymore.”
She looks like she might cry, and Alice has been through a lot of surprises this week, but this is the one that makes tears come to her eyes.
She could have a cousin again. Family, again. A person who loves her, who’s there for her, who might even have Alice over for Thanksgiving and Christmas, invite Alice to her kids’ birthday parties and bring over food when Alice is sick. Someone who could know Alice well enough that she wouldn’t always have to explain herself, someone who would know to never leave a candle burning in an unattended room, or smoke a cigarette in front of her. Someone who could be her best friend again.
It isn’t hard to find forgiveness. She needed Isabella back then, but she wants her now too.
She reaches out, pulling her cousin into a side hug that should be awkward, but isn’t.
“It’s already done,” she says, and Isabella squeezes her back until Hazel drops herself into Alice’s lap like a wrestler, all pointy elbows and sharp knees and suspiciously wet diaper.
—
An hour or so later Alice is due to leave for the hospital, but instead of letting her look up the bus schedule, Isabella insists that Alice text Van to see if she’s home. “It’s a fifteen-minute drive to Portland Grace from here, and you said she lives nearby,” Isabella insists. “Why not try to save yourself an hour on the bus if you can?”
Which is how Alice finds herself waiting in the kitchen, shoes and jacket on, for Van to pick her up from her cousin’shouse.
She hopes that Van will simply text from outside when she’s there, but she has a sinking suspicion that Van “I’ll walk you up a bunch of flights of stairs” Altman doesn’t quite have that move in her repertoire.
And, lo and behold, there’s a sharp, crisp knock on the door.
Alice opens it, but Isabella is immediately elbowing her out of the way. Van is there, tall and solid in the freezing rain.
“You must be Nolan’s sister Van,” Isabella chirps, neatly shoving Alice a few steps backward into the house. “I’m Isabella. Please, come in.”
“No,” Alice starts, but Van is already stepping inside, careful not to drip too much water on the floor as she pushes her hood back.
“Nice to meet you,” Van says, holding out a hand that Alice has to imagine is ice-cold and wet. Isabella takes it enthusiastically, and Alice is forcibly reminded of how easy it was to make friends as a kid with Isabella by her side. Bella did all the work, Alice following like a quiet shadow and reaping the benefits by tagging along to everything Bella was invited to.
“You too,” Isabella says, something dangerous glinting in her eye. “Alice has been telling me all about you and your family.”
Van shifts, and it’s the first time Alice has ever seen her look anxious. Actually, come to think of it, Van looks a little pale, the circles under her eyes heavier than usual. Alice wonders if she didn’t sleep well.
Alice wonders what her bedroom looks like, if Frank sleeps in the bed next to her.
“I didn’t realize Alice had family in town,” Van says, looking between them. “And so close by.”
“Oh, that’s because I’m a total grasshole. We moved backfrom Texas a couple months ago but I was so frantic dealing with the kids and new jobs and everything that I didn’t reach out until now.”
