Sweet Valley Confidential: Ten Years Later (25 page)

“Yeah, he was a good kid,” he says.

“We should have been way more understanding,” Jessica says.

“You’re right. We should have been more forgiving,” I say, and hug my sister.

Now Jessica begins to cry and I hold her closer. And love her more.

The service goes on with Winston’s father and a cousin getting up to speak. Mr. Egbert’s reminiscences of his son’s boyhood, and of how sweet and funny Winston could be, touch the audience. Despite the fact that most everyone knows what a bastard he became, I can hear the sniffles and see people reaching for their tissues.

Except not one old friend gets up to speak. Todd said he felt uncomfortable and considered saying something, but it seemed so dishonorable, considering that most people know he and Winston didn’t like each other.

It must be worse for Bruce. There is no way he could get up and give an honest eulogy. Everyone knows how badly their partnership ended.

I see Bruce when we first come in and ask if he wants to sit with us, but he says, no, he’s going to stay in the back.

Since Winston was cremated there will be no cemetery service. Instead, everyone is invited for a reception at Winston’s home.

The crowd of two hundred and fifty seems to swell on the way back to the house. And as happens at these events, with the exception of a little staring at the balcony and the marble floor, the attitude might as well be Winston who? Mostly it feels like a school reunion.

Todd, Jessica, and I only stay long enough to give our condolences to Winston’s father and relatives and then slip out.

Though we didn’t eat at Winston’s, none of us are hungry. We all make some excuse and go off to be alone, Todd to his office, Jessica to her bedroom, and me to my bedroom.

The house is painfully silent.

Elizabeth remembered it all. Looking back, she wondered why she didn’t pick up on Jessica’s out-of-character compassion for Winston. Even taking the blame, and offering her forgiveness. “It’s important to forgive,” she’d said. Now, of course, Elizabeth knew why.

And then there was Todd’s distraction. His unusual silence. He’d looked about as uncomfortable as she had ever seen him. But in her usual searching-for-the-best-part-of-people way, she’d worked everything into funeral sadness: the loss of someone who had been his best friend through all those school years.

In truth, it was just plain old shit guilt. Both of them.

13

Sweet Valley

“What do you think she’ll do? Do you think she’ll speak to me? To us?”

Jessica had already tried on five different outfits. And then mixed and matched pants and shirts and skirts and blouses. All in all there were about ten different looks that were basically the same, dressy but not cocktail. And she wasn’t pleased with any of them. If only she could have asked Elizabeth. Elizabeth would know. Elizabeth knew everything about her and sometimes better than she knew herself. Not that Jessica always took the advice, but she needed to hear it.

That was almost the worst part—not hearing Elizabeth for these last eight months. And maybe never again. Sure, there would be a hello or good-bye, polite, impersonal words, but never again would they talk as sisters. Never as people who unquestionably loved each other.

A thousand times a day she needed Elizabeth, needed to see her in a crowd and know she was hers, to touch her skin, to brush her hair, just to push up against her, so natural as to not even be noticed, to pluck a piece of lint off her skirt, wipe a crumb from her chin, to be able always to enter into that private space that everyone else holds around them, inviolable.

But not for them, not for twins.

Another thing she would never again feel, Elizabeth’s arms around her, holding her. A feeling even more familiar than her mother’s embrace.

There she was again, being Jessica, asking for everything when she didn’t deserve anything.

Through all this, Todd was sitting on the bed, fully dressed in a blue blazer with beige pants and a blue-and-white-striped shirt, waiting. He was even wearing a tie, and he was watching her. She never asked him his opinion on any of the outfits.

This was the shallow side of Jessica. The Lila-like side that he worried about. But the truth was, even just watching her changing clothes, throwing rejects aside, studying herself in the mirror, grabbing another skirt, another blouse, working herself up to a small frenzy, he loved her. Why she should fascinate him so much, he didn’t know. All he knew was that even through the pain and the guilt, this was the woman he wanted.

“You know what I think?” Jessica asked.

Todd shook his head.

“I think she’s going to pretend we don’t exist. Look right through me like the spot was empty. I remember once I had this thing with Caroline way back when we were in the seventh grade. She told everyone that I let A. J. Morgan touch my breast.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Did you?” Todd smiled.

“Of course, I did. That’s way not funny. I was, like, furious that she told everyone and I didn’t know how to get back at her. What was I going to say to her? And Elizabeth told me. Nothing, she said, just look right through Caroline like the spot was empty. That’s what she’s going to do to me tonight.”

Jessica finally found the Betsey Johnson that looked a lot like the first outfit she’d tried on.

She sat down on the bed in the middle of the sprawling clothes and wept.

Todd took her in his arms and held her.

But nothing could quiet her deep unhappiness. And with it came that terrible day and the explosion that ended everything.

“Elizabeth’s not back yet?” Todd asks. I can see he’s not happy to run into me alone in the kitchen. He’s been in his office with the door closed all morning and probably thought he’d heard Elizabeth come in.

“Not yet,” I tell him. “Regan’s coming here.”

“Now?”

“Either that or tonight or tomorrow morning.”

“What’s he coming for?”

“I don’t know. That’s what scares me, that I don’t know.”

“What did he say when he called? How did he sound?”

“He didn’t call. He texted me. And that’s all it said: ‘I’ll be there within twenty-four hours.’ That’s like him not to give a time. It’s like he has the advantage; he can jump out at me whenever. That’s what makes me so totally panicked.”

“Take it easy. I’m here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“What should I do?”

“Nothing. Just wait. I mean, he’s not violent. Is he?”

“Not so far, but…”

“What?”

“He can be very jealous.”

“Of who?”

I shrug.

Now Todd asks another question, and I can see his interest isn’t in Regan. “Does he have any reason to be?”

I just look at him. He shakes his head, turns, and goes back to his office.

We are so awkward together. But it’s not like the anger of before, it’s different now. Even harder.

I sit on the windowsill mostly hidden by the curtain, but I have a clear view of the driveway.

Elizabeth’s been gone since early morning, so she doesn’t know about Regan coming.

It’s nearly twelve now. Todd is in his office working, but he checks on me every fifteen minutes or so. We don’t say much. Mostly I just shake my head. In other words, no, he’s not here yet.

I’m nervous, and the fourth cup of coffee hasn’t helped, either. When I hold up my hands they’re trembling ever so slightly. Watching them makes them tremble more.

When I’m being rational I say to myself, It’s not like he’s a nut case or something. Sure, he’s angry that I walked out, or maybe even contrite, like, apologizing and begging me to come back.

No. His message didn’t sound sorry. It was cryptic with a nasty feel about it.

So what? Todd’s here. No one is going to mess with me with Todd around. Plus, Elizabeth will be home soon. It’s not like it’s a movie or anything; it’s just a marriage that didn’t work, that’s all. Happens all the time. At least to me.

I make up my mind, no matter what Regan says it’s
finito
and that’s that. It was a stupid mistake anyway. And being here for these last two weeks has made it very clear just how wrong it was.

How come Elizabeth never makes these dumb mistakes?

At ten to twelve the blue Porsche pulls up in front of the house and my husband, Regan Wollman, steps out.

“Todd! He’s here!”

Todd appears in the room like almost instantly, as if he’s been waiting in the hall. Which he may have been.

Both Todd and I watch as Regan reaches into the car and takes out his jacket. With ultimate cool, no rush, he slips it on and looks around, sizing up the neighborhood. Which doesn’t seem to impress him. I’d forgotten how handsome and elegant-looking he is, too city for this environment. Maybe too city for me, after all.

He closes the car door, hits the alarm lock, and starts up the front path. Now I’m really scared. He’s too cool.

“Why am I so scared of this man?” I back away from the window and turn to face the front door.

I don’t know why, but I am.

The bell rings.

“Do you want me to get it?” Todd asks.

“No. In fact, maybe you shouldn’t even be here.”

“No way. I’m here. And I’m staying. Unless you really want me to go.”

I consider it for a moment, and then, thinking I can’t do this anymore, say, “Stay with me.”

Those three ordinary words take their own sweet time crossing the room. And when they do, they just hang there, heavy in the air, loaded.

The doorbell rings a second time. Like insistent now.

I go to the door, look once more at Todd, and open it. Instinctively, I stand back.

The entrance leads right into the living room, and when Regan steps in he sees Todd first. I can see he’s confused for a moment, so I step forward.

“Hello, Regan.”

But he’s still looking at Todd, perplexed. Then recognition hits. “I know you. You’re Elizabeth’s friend, right?”

“Right.”

By now I’ve moved to the center of the room, across from Regan, close to Todd, almost touching, within his protective shield.

Todd puts his arm out across my body, making a wall between Regan and me. His arm is resting against me.

Regan studies both of us. “Where is she?”

“Who?” Todd asks.

I still haven’t said anything more than hello.

“Your girlfriend.”

“She’s out on a story. Why?”

Regan looks at me and then at Todd. He’s taking his time, like he’s studying us. Then he looks back to me. Slowly. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have wasted my time coming out here to get you.”

Before I can answer, Todd says, “Take it easy, huh? Nobody asked you to come here.”

“Look, asshole. She just happens to be my wife, you know.” And then to me, “But it looks like maybe you forgot that little fact.”

“Hey,” I say. “Look … I’m, like, totally sorry for this whole thing. I really didn’t—”