Her Sister's Shoes (24 page)

Twenty-Nine

Samantha

S
am knew better
than to stop Jackie from pounding on the elevator door or tell her to be quiet when she screamed, “Let me in,” over and over again. They were alone in the hallway and Jackie needed to get it out of her system.

Finally exhausted, Jackie collapsed against the elevator with her forehead pressed to the steel door.

When Sam placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, Jackie turned around to face her. “Please don’t give me a lecture, Sam. I’m not in the
mood.”

“Come on.” Sam grabbed Jackie by the wrist and attempted to pull her into the empty elevator next to them. “You need some fresh air to clear your
head.”

“I can’t leave. I need to be here for Cooper.”

Sam nudged her sister inside the compartment and pressed the button, gripping Jackie’s arm until the doors closed. “According to the nurse, the doctor won’t be up for another hour. Why don’t we get your bag out of my car, so you have your things with you
tonight.”

They descended three floors and exited onto the second level of the attached parking deck. They walked in silence, t
he stench of car fumes overwhelming them. When they reached the Jeep, Sam opened the hatch door and removed Jackie’s small black suitcase.

“I packed all your toiletries, a couple of nightgowns, and
several ch
anges of clothes.” She handed the suitcase to Jackie. “I hope I got everything you
need.”

Jackie extended the handle on her suitcase and began wheeling it back the way they’d come.

Sam clicked her doors locked and rushed after her. “Not so fast, Jackie. We need to talk.” She should’ve had this conversation with her sister weeks
ago.

“Not now, Sam. I have to get back to the waiting room. I still haven’t spoken with the neurologist.”

“This won’t take but a minute. The least you can do is hear me out, since I drove from Charleston to Prospect and all the way up here to Charlotte so you could have your toothbrush
tonight.”

Jackie stopped dead in her tracks. “That’s on you, Saint Sammie. I never asked you to play
martyr.”

As much as the insult hurt, Sam couldn’t deny the accusation. True, she’d insinuated herself into the situation without invitation, when her sister so clearly resented her presence. But, whether Jackie realized it or not, she needed Sam to save her from herself. And, solicited or not, Sam would offer her advice, and then she would leave. If her sister chose to self-destruct, then so be it. At least she’d tried.

“You’re worse off than I thought. Be careful, big sister, or you’ll drive your sons away just like you—” Sam stopped
herself.

“Just like I what? Just like I drove my husband into the arms of another
woman?”

Sam had already crossed the line. No reason to hold back now. “If the shoe fits …”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about shoes,” Jackie hissed. “Until you’ve walked a mile in mine.”

Sam stared down at her worn-out Sperry Top-Siders, then over at her sister’s Manolo Blahnik wedges. “I’ll take your Manolos over my beat-up deck shoes any time. The way I see it, you have everything you’ve ever wanted—sons who worship you, a husband who adores you, and a big house with a closet full of Tory Burch sandals and Stuart Weitzman
boots.”

“I’ve made my share of sacrifices. I gave up a chance to work with the top interior decorator in New York when I married
Bill.”

“You gave up a job, Jackie, not a career. You’ve been working at Motte Interiors all these years. You have a resume and a client base. You have choices. Either find a new job, or start your own firm. You’re fifty, not eighty. It’s not too late for you to start
over.”

“My career is not the issue here, anyway.” Jackie took off again, wheeling her suitcase in and out between the rows of
cars.

Sam ran to catch up with her. “I’m well aware of the real issue, Jackie. What I’d like to know is why you never bothered to tell your family that your husband left you for another
woman.”

Jackie kept on walking. “I wanted to spare myself from having to watch you gloat.”

When they reached the elevator, Jackie jabbed her finger at the Up button three times before she finally made contact. The elevator doors opened and Jackie wheeled her suitcase inside.

“Take it out on me all you want.” Sam placed a foot against the door to keep it from closing. “But Sean is vulnerable right now. He is angry and hurt and scared. He needs love and support. If he can’t get it from you, he will turn to his father. Don’t make him have to choose. He needs both of you. Just as Cooper will during his
recovery.”

“Are you through? Because I’ve heard about all the advice I need to hear for one
day.”

T
he stubborn set of Jackie’s jaw told Sam it was pointless to argue any longer. She doubted Jackie had heard a word she’d said. “It’s too late for me to drive back tonight. I’ll be at the Marriott if you need
me.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Your services are no longer needed,” Jackie said, and kicked Sam’s foot out of the way of the door.

Unaccustomed to the pungent taste and slow burn of whiskey, Sam nursed her Dewar’s and soda at the bar in the deserted hotel lounge. No wine tonight. Her fight with Jackie dictated a swift blast of numbing agent to her nerves.

Walk in her shoes, my ass.
Jackie had no idea what it was like to raise a child alone, with absolutely no one in the world to rely on. No husband to rub your feet after a long day at work or tell you your new haircut looks nice even though you know it doesn’t. No father to take your son on Boy Scout hikes or teach him how to shave. So what if Jackie’s pride was bruised over Bill’s affair with another woman. At least she had someone to support her while their son was on the operating
table.

A tap on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to the present. She was alarmed to see Bill looming over her. “Is everything okay? Is Cooper out of surgery?”

“Yes. They finished up a little while ago.” Bill rested his hand on the back of the empty bar
stool next to her. “Do you mind if I join
you?”

“Not at all.” She moved her bar stool over to give him more
room.

Bill slid onto the seat beside her. “Looks like an off night at the Marriott.” He flagged down the bartender, who was glued to the Yankees game at the other end of the bar. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

“Dewar’s on the rocks?” the bartender asked Sam, having already forgotten what his lone customer was
drinking.

“Dewar’s and soda,” she said, and the bartender snapped his fingers. “Right.”

“I’ve never known you to belly up to the bar, Sammie.”

Several sarcastic remarks came to mind, but she settled for, “It’s been a long day.” There was no room for animosity in their situation.

“Indeed it has.” Bill proved it by guzzling a large mouthful when the bartender handed him his drink.

“Were they able to repair the damage to Cooper’s
arm?”

“With the aid of several pins and screws, yes. He’s still unconscious though, which has the doctors somewhat perplexed. Only two people are allowed to be with him at a time. Jackie and Sean refused to leave his side, and since I’m in no position to argue …” He took another swill of his Dewar’s. “I’m probably going to head home in the morning. The situation is awkward. Jackie and Sean don’t need me adding to their
stress.”

“I don’t think—” Sam stopped herself. When Bill looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to finish, she held her fingers to her lips, pretending to turn the key.

He nudged her. “What were you going to
say?”

She shook her head. “Jackie made it clear she wanted me to butt
out.”

“Come on, Sam. I’m at a loss here, and I could really use your advice. I know what it’s like to be the doctor, consulting the terrified family in the waiting room, but being the parent is a whole different ball game. Seeing your son unconscious and hooked up to all those machines makes you feel so …”

“Helpless?” she
asked.

He let out a deep breath. “You’ve been through this. You know what to
expect.”

She paused, considering what to say. “I don’t have any great words of wisdom for you, Bill. Except that I don’t think you should leave. Whether she realizes it or not, Jackie needs you right now. Obviously she’s struggling,
as evidence by her meltdown in the waiting room. And she won’t talk to anybody. She has yet to tell any of us—Mom, Faith, or me—about your
separation.”

“That’s strange. Why wouldn’t she talk to
you?”

“I have no idea. I think she’s gone into self-preservation mode. All I know is, she shouldn’t have to go through this alone. Like I
did.”

“Believe it or not, Sam, I know what it’s like to be alone.”

She raised a questioning eyebrow at
him.

“It’s true. Some of the loneliest people are the ones trapped in unhappy
marriages.”

She clinked the ice cubes in her glass as she considered the institution of marriage. She knew women who were single parents, and women like Faith who were trapped in abusive marriages, but she’d never thought about the married couples. In her mind, it was cut and dry. A man and woman stayed married if they were happy together.
Otherwise, they filed for
divorce.

“I have to admit, I never saw it coming,” Sam said. “I always thought you and Jackie were
happy.”

Bill signaled to the bartender for two more drinks. “You, of all people, should know what an expert your sister is at putting up a good
front.”

“True.”

“We put up a show, mostly for the boys but also for our friends and coworkers. Hell, we even put up a front for ourselves. It’s easy to fall into the trap. You tell yourself to give it just one more day, that things will get better, and the next thing you know, twenty years have flown by and nothing has
changed.”

“So you found love someplace else?” Sam asked.

“Not love. Lust.” Bill waited for the bartender to refill their drinks before continuing. “Daisy kept coming on to me. After awhile, I couldn’t resist her charms. The attention made me feel good about
myself.”

“Are you going to marry
her?”

He took a long time to answer. “Daisy reminded me of what it’s like to really connect with another human being, to share the joys in life, to stay up late talking about your hopes and dreams. But she also helped me realize that Jackie is the only woman for me. My affair with Daisy is over. I rented a small house several streets east of you, on Magnolia. I moved in last
week.”

Sam stared into Bill’s eyes. “That’s a sudden turn of events. Have you told
Jackie?”

He shook his head. “She’s too mad at me right now to listen. And the truth is, we both need some time apart. Jackie hasn’t been happy in a long time. She has never forgiven me for making her choose between marrying me and a career in New
York.”

“But that was so long ago,” Sam said, even though she knew Jackie had admitted as much during their argument in the parking garage.

“Maybe so, but she’s held on to her resentment all these years. Jackie would never admit it, but she hates working for Motte Interiors. Never mind that she brings her share of business into the company, Mimi and Julia leave her out of all their big projects. She’s a gofer for them, little more than a paid
intern.”