The Orphan Sister (30 page)

“Yes,” I said, watching her pick grass from her clothes.

“Thanks for indulging me, Clementine. I think becoming a grandmother is even more momentous than I’d imagined. More momentous, maybe, than the granting of my three wishes.” She held her hand out to me, and I felt like one equal part in three. Isn’t the last wish always to have a million more wishes?

“Becoming a grandmother? That’s what’s pushing you into the deep end? Not your husband—”

“Shush.”

And with that, I let something go, cut the kite string, let my mother’s mistakes and sorrows float into the sky. I could watch rainbows with her, but I couldn’t protect her from her own heart.

“See you later?”

“Yes. Oh, and could you check the mail for me? I’m off on vacation with Lydia until the party. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“But what about O and O and the babies?”

“They don’t need me right now,” my mother said, and I knew this was wrong, but again, I couldn’t get the kite back.

“Okay.” I sat up and watched my grass-stained mother walk her crooked walk, so much like my own, back to the house.

“So,” said Eli as we washed the dishes. It had been a chicken curry soup, and I hadn’t ruined it. Eli had also made pan bread, carrot cake, and three pans of lasagna—one for each sister and one for my mother. All this after a two-hour nap.

We ate and cleaned up, and the house was so quiet, it sounded
as though the crickets in the bougainvillea were screaming, the silverware clanked like percussion.

“Fireflies,” said Eli, looking out the window.

“So much at once,” I said.

“I’m going to add to that.” Eli took his hands out of the suds and put them, wet, on my hips, turning me toward him. “First of all, I got the money. My mother’s money. It won’t change much, but I just wanted to tell you. I’ve invested it, and I did buy something.”

“Oh, Eli, that’s great—now you can get a reasonable car,” I said, knowing full well he didn’t want a reasonable car. “Or a reasonable—I don’t know—what exactly do you need? What did you buy?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He was examining something on the side of my neck.

“What’s there?” I asked, fully distracted. “A nasty mole? Am I growing another head?”

“You’re fine,” he sighed. “I know it’s a lot right now, but I’ve waited long enough. First, what do you think we should do tomorrow? It’s Saturday, and I’m done at the lab for at least a day and a half, and you don’t have any hospital visits, right? I was thinking we could go for a trip somewhere—the shore? Pennsylvania? Romania?”

He was running this all together, as if he was nervous. I watched his face, his smart jaw, the chocolate of his eyes, impossible lashes. Then he pulled a box out of his pocket—a jewelry box, a ring box, and actually bent on one knee, opening it. I think it was a black opal—it had a thousand colors—but I couldn’t look at it for the glory of his face.

“And will you live with me forever, Clem? I know it’s weird with your father and everything, but I just got this fellowship for the mushroom paper—and I have two years I can go anywhere that has a lab, and I can’t let you go to vet school without taking me, too, so what do you say?”

Now he looked away, back to the dishes. He took his hands off me and put them back in the sudsy water. Then he looked back.

“Marry you?”

Alphabet padded over and snuffled Eli’s feet, then mine.

“Live with me, and someday, when you’re ready, marry me. It’s not as though we’d just met. I’ve been waiting forever, and I’m not letting you go—”

“You’re not?”

“Stop torturing me.”

I’m sorry, Cam
, I thought.
You’re gone, and I love him
. Please don’t like him more than me.
Not more; just a different like, a different love. I’m sorry, Cameron. Forgive me
. I think I might be able to forgive you.

“Yes,” I said, surprising myself. I said yes.

A
dam’s first birthday party was at Odette’s house, and Odette invited Dad, but he had told her he was pretty sure he had to have a root canal instead. I passed this information on to Eli, and he invented a little song.

“Ah, the loneliness of the American dentist,” sang Eli, packing up his chocolate ganache in the cooler. He was the cake master, but Mom insisted on a division of entrées and appetizers.

“Never mind the lavish scuba vacations; it has to feel awful to be so feared and despised and simultaneously necessary,” he finished, speaking.

“Did you hear that piece on NPR about how people are loyal to their dentists, and yet dentists are the ones very likely to find pretend cavities in X-rays?” I asked.

“It’s all a matter of interpretation. Shadows.”

“And trust,” I answered.

My cell phone rang, and I almost dropped Skinny, who I was exercising before he’d be in his tank for the weekend.

“Just let me put down the snake,” I said to my sister, setting the phone on the floor.

“Proctologists!” Eli continued. “Gastroenterologists! You know, I like my dentist.”

I could hear Adam wailing as I recovered the phone.

“Forget guts,” said Odette. “Teeth are agony.”

“Did you hear us talking about dentists?”

“Adam’s teething,” she said.

“He still hasn’t called back, has he?” I asked.

“We’re better off without Olivia’s fury,” said Odette.

Eli raised his eyebrows at me and began taking his goodies out to the car.

“But Mom is bringing a date,” she said.

I didn’t want to be surprised, but I felt as though I’d fallen hard on the ground—no wind in my lungs.

“Don’t panic,” said Odette. “It’s not that serious. He’s just some guy from her art class.”

Adam’s wail crescendoed—Odette was lifting him and allowing him to gnaw on her fingers. I’d experienced this firsthand a few months ago when I drove up to help Mom clean out the last of her things from the big house. They weren’t divorced—or annulled—just yet, but she’d sold the house and moved into a condominium with walls in three shades of soothing green, less than a mile from my sisters.

I missed the big house—and missed Dad, though we texted several times a week, sharing more details of our days and ways than we had in years. Or ever. It was an embarrassment of riches, his attention. Embarrassment, as well. He was diminished, less powerful; he’d admitted all sorts of health problems—back, prostate, even his heart, and somehow this made me want to forgive him. I didn’t want Mom to forgive him, though. She donated all the furniture and most of his belongings to a women’s shelter in Trenton and the Vietnam Vets.

She’d set Dad’s office out on the lawn like a yard sale—papers, photos in pewter frames, the $3,000 custom chair, the heavy-footed oak desk, his extraordinary pen collection, and an incongruous gravy boat atop his disc-wiped computer—with a
TAKE ME
sign—the afternoon before bulk-refuse day. The mail carrier politely removed the computer and the gravy boat; the rest was hauled off after dusk.

“Let’s go,” said Eli, to me and to Alphabet, the only pet allowed at Odette’s house. Our neighbor’s fifteen-year-old would come care for everyone else while we were gone.

“Let’s go see our babies,” I said to my dog, who wagged obligingly. I missed everyone for a moment, the way you can only miss those you’ve held and let go. Then I settled into the driver’s seat of the grease mobile and turned the key.

Many thank-yous to friends and champions at Gallery Books, including the creative, insightful, and indefatigable Kara Cesare, her talented assistant, Emilia Pisani, publisher Louise Burke, editor-in-chief Jen Bergstrom, Sally Franklin, Stephanie DeLuca, and John Paul Jones. To my agent, the amazing and incredible Jennifer Carlson, and the staff at Dunow, Carlson & Lerner. Thank you to Ma’ayan Plaut, who provided recipes, enthusiasm, and a reminder of Oberlin fortitude.

Hugs and thanks to friends and students including (but not limited to) my brilliant fiction group: Joanne Nesi, Maria Oskwarek, Annie Cami, Phyllis Rosenthal, Cindy Starr, and Suzanne Samuels (you are all my favorites); Lisa Williamson, Lisa Roe, the poets and mom-writers, fabulous book groups, and the collective talents of Just Writers. To Huckleberry Finn for podiatric affection. To Peggy and to Dad, who is not at all like Dr. Charles Lord except for the MD. To Mom and Tom and to Harry, too.

And, most of all, thank you to my fathomlessly beloved home: Josh, Jacob, and Carina Rosenberg.

Lester
Trimble wrote
Four Fragments from the Canterbury Tales
for soprano, harpsichord, clarinet, and flute. Published by Edition Peters (PE.P66068).

Adjective Sandwiches are a real thing—invented by the multitalented Ma’ayan Plaut (Oberlin ’10) at the DeCafé. Visit her blog for more:
http://thelittlegirlsguidetosugarand spice.blogspot.com
.

For more on Stanley Greenspan’s Floortime method:
http://www.icdl.com/dirFloortime/overview/index.shtml
.

For as long as she can remember, Clementine Lord has always felt like the odd one out—“the unmated shoe”—when it comes to her relationship with her sisters. Although they are triplets, fraternal Clementine is not just genetically removed from the identical Olivia and Odette, but also different in every way imaginable: while Olivia and Odette manage bustling medical practices and prepare for motherhood, Clemetine struggles with her applications to veterinarian school and lives in her parents’ carriage house. But when a family secret threatens to unhinge the bonds that have been forged over the years, Clementine learns not only how deeply connected she truly is to her family, but also the changes she must make to break free from a tragedy in her past and move forward with her life and her relationships. In this story of sisterhood and sibling rivalry, of betrayal and unadulterated love, Gwendolen Gross has created an enduring novel that speaks to the complications and the pleasures of growing up, adapting to shifting relationships, and finding yourself along the way.

1. The Lord triplets communicate in a number of complex ways that are often immutable to those outside of their bond, and even to Clementine herself at times. Describe the various methods of communication—both verbal and nonverbal—that the sisters employ throughout the novel. Which methods are more effective and why? When does Clementine feel left out of the dialogue, and how does this make her feel?

2. Clementine comes from a family of doctors, yet she decides to attend veterinarian school and chooses to surround herself with animals. Why doesn’t Clementine choose to join the family profession, and how does her decision impact the family and her role within it? Why does she gravitate toward healing animals versus humans?

3. Clementine’s thoughts and memories are largely dominated by Cameron. Why is it so difficult for her to move on? How does Cameron’s suicide affect her life ten years later? To what extent does Clementine use Cameron and his death as an excuse to hide from relationships with men?

4. Until her grandparents passed away, the Lords lived a comfortable but modest life. How does their newfound wealth impact their lives and relationships with one another? What is the significance of “The Accounts”? Why does Dr. Lord need to control the household finances of the family in such an authoritarian fashion? Especially considering the fact that money is no longer an issue for the family?

5. Clementine repeatedly accuses her father of being paternalistic and overly controlling of the women in the family. Describe Clementine’s father’s view of women, thinking about his relationships with his wives and each of his daughters. Why does he act this way, and how do his actions, secrets, and behaviors affect the family? What does “The Diary” symbolize, and why does Clementine choose to remove herself from it when she leaves for college?

6. Odette and Olivia have both become doctors who care for babies and children; they both are married to responsible and successful men and become pregnant at the same time. Do you think Odette and Olivia are so similar because they share an identical gene pool, or for other reasons? Can Clementine’s deviation from her sisters’ nearly indistinguishable paths be attributed to the fact that she has a different set of genes, to the events of her life (including the tragedy of Cameron’s death), or to something else entirely?

7. Olivia is the first to know about her father’s infidelities and secrets, yet she repeatedly refuses to tell Clementine and Odette about why their father has disappeared. Why does Olivia keep her father’s secret, even though it means essentially betraying her sisters?

8. Clementine spends much of her free time volunteering at an animal shelter and is the owner of two adopted dogs, as well as a ferret she took in when she was a still a student at Oberlin and a boa constrictor she rescued from a sewer. Why does Clementine feel such empathy toward creatures that need to be saved? Does her need to rescue others apply also to her relationships with her parents, her sisters, Cameron, or Eli? Why or why not?