The Stepsister (5 page)

“I
know
you two can get along,” Mrs. Wallner said, whispering for some reason after her husband left the room. “Just try harder—okay?”

Both girls muttered okay.

Mrs. Wallner stooped to pick up some notebook paper that had fallen from the desk, then walked out without looking at either of them.

I can't
believe
she was on Jessie's side, Emily thought, feeling completely betrayed.

She looked up to see Jessie, leaning against the closet door, glaring at her, her face tight, her normally placid eyes burning into Emily's.

“Don't ever do that again,” Jessie said slowly, pronouncing each word distinctly, in a menacing, low voice Emily had never heard before.

Emily was so surprised, she just stared back at her.

“I don't know what you have against me,” Jessie said bitterly. “I don't know why you're trying so hard to make me look bad. But I'm warning you, Emily—
just stop it. Don't ever embarrass me like that again in front of my father.”

“You're warning
me?
” Emily started to protest. But Tiger scampered into the room, sniffed Emily's ankles, then, his tail stub wagging furiously, hurried over to do the same to Jessie.

“Get
out
of here, you filthy thing,” Jessie snarled, and kicked at the little dog. Tiger yelped, more out of surprise than pain, and ran back to Emily.

“Don't kick my dog!” Emily shouted, feeling her anger begin to rise again.

“I didn't kick it,” Jessie said. “I just kicked
at
it.”

Emily picked Tiger up and hugged him. Carrying him against her shoulder, she turned and ran out of the room. She walked down the hall to Nancy's room. The door was open, so she walked in.

Nancy was sitting on her bed, a book in her lap, as if waiting for Emily. Nancy's room was smaller than Emily's, long and narrow, with a tall, pink-curtained window overlooking the backyard at the end. Nancy was a collector. She collected glass bottles, and shells, and interesting stones, and antique dolls, and old children's books, and charm-bracelet charms, and matchbooks, and baseball trading cards, among other things. To hold her collections, their father had built long wooden shelves that stretched along one entire wall of the room from floor to ceiling.

“Nancy has never thrown away or given away anything,” he had always complained. “Someday we're going to have to give her the entire house just to hold her stuff.”

Emily, who never seemed to be able to save or collect anything, really admired this quality in her sister. Sometimes she would wander into Nancy's room and just marvel at all of the things her sister had found interesting enough to save, running her hands over the smooth glass bottles, examining the tiny silver charms, even though she'd examined them at least a dozen times before.

Now she stopped in the doorway and put down Tiger, who immediately scampered away. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Nancy said, putting aside her book. “Come sit down.” She patted a spot beside her on the bedspread.

Emily gratefully sat down beside her sister. She stared down at the white shag rug at her feet, still feeling very shaky, and didn't say anything.

“You certainly look a mess,” Nancy said with tenderness, not as a criticism.

Emily forced a faint smile. “I guess I do. But at least Jessie's hair got messed up. That's a first, right?”

“What on earth happened?” Nancy asked, running her hand through Emily's hair tenderly, pushing it back off her forehead. “Why were you fighting?”

“She erased my entire report,” Emily said, sobbing despite her attempts to calm down.

“Do you think it was on purpose?”

“It
had to
be,” Emily insisted. “All that work. Lost. Now I'll flunk social studies for sure.”

“Emily, calm down,” Nancy said softly. “I'm sure Mr. Harrison will understand.”

“Oh, sure,” Emily wailed. “He'll really believe me,
won't he! I might just as well tell him the dog ate my homework!”

“Well, you've still got your notes, right? You can rewrite it.”

“It'll take weeks!” Emily sobbed. “I'd already written fourteen pages. And now they're gone.”

Nancy handed her a tissue. Emily wiped her eyes. “So you accused Jessie of erasing your report?” Nancy asked. “Then what happened?”

“Then I totally lost it,” Emily said, the words catching in her throat. “I don't know. I just went bananas. She made me so mad—”

“You know, you really have to go easy on Jessie,” Nancy said, shoving the box of tissues into her sister's lap.

“Huh?”

“Jessie has a lot of problems,” Nancy said. She pulled herself back onto the pillows and leaned against the headboard.

“What do you mean?” Emily was confused.

“Mom told me yesterday. She said Jessie has some serious emotional problems. She sees a shrink twice a week.”

“Really? I didn't know that.” Emily blew her nose. She was starting to feel a little steadier.

“I guess that was one of the hard adjustments for Jessie when she moved here,” Nancy said, getting up and closing the bedroom door.

“You mean—”

“She had to leave her psychiatrist behind and find a new one here in Shadyside.” Nancy resumed her place on the bed.

“How come? What kind of emotional problems?” Emily asked, whispering even though the door was now closed.

Nancy shrugged her narrow shoulders. “You know Mom. She wouldn't tell me. Mom never likes unpleasant details.”

“Tell me about it!” Emily groaned, rolling her eyes. Her mother didn't even want to hear why she went berserk a few minutes ago. “She didn't tell you
anything?”

“Well, she did a little.” Nancy leaned forward and whispered, her face close to Emily's. Emily could smell peppermint on her breath. “She said Jessie got into serious trouble at her old school. Something really bad happened.”

“What?” Emily asked eagerly.

“Mom didn't say.”

“Didn't you ask her?”

“I wanted to,” Nancy said, lying back on the bed. “But Rich came home just then. And that was the end of the conversation.”

“Something really bad happened, huh? That's what Mom said? I'll bet that's why Jessie's mother was in such a hurry to send her here.”

“Maybe,” Nancy said. “We'll never get the details from Mom. Especially not now. Just be careful with her, Em. Try to keep out of her way—okay? She's a very troubled girl.”

Emily started to say something, but the doorbell rang downstairs. “That must be Josh,” she said, looking at the clock on Nancy's shelf. “Nine o'clock.
You know Josh—Mister Prompt.” She pulled open the bedroom door. “Thanks for the talk, Nance.”

Nancy shrugged. She looked just like their mother when she did that, Emily thought. Emily closed the door behind her and headed down to greet Josh. As she passed her room, she peeked inside and saw Jessie working intently on the computer. Emily continued down the stairs, thinking about Nancy's warning.

“Hi. Did you get your report finished?” Josh asked, wiping his work boots on the floor mat before following her into the living room. He tossed his down coat onto a chair and plopped down on the brown corduroy couch.

Emily sighed. “That's a long story.”

She sat down beside him, thinking how glad she was to see him. He looks so cute, she thought. She loved his black, curly hair and his dark, intense eyes. He was short, at least an inch shorter than she, but it didn't bother her. He was so energetic, so fast-talking, so quick-moving that it somehow made up for his shortness of stature. He was wearing a gray and maroon Shadyside High sweatshirt and faded jeans. She just wanted to cuddle up with him and not say a word.

“Want to tell it to me?” he asked. “I'm in the mood for a long story.”

“You just want to avoid studying,” she said, giving him a playful shove.

A grin slowly spread across his face. He looks ten years old when he grins like that, she thought. “What have you got to eat?” he asked. He ate as much as ten boys, but somehow he stayed really skinny.

She took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. She made him a bologna and Swiss cheese sandwich and loaded his plate up with potato chips. “Aren't you going to eat anything?” he asked.

“I don't eat six meals a day like you,” she cracked.

“This is only my fifth,” he replied, biting into the sandwich, getting mustard over his top lip. “Besides, this is just a snack. Are you going to tell me what happened to your report?”

“I guess.” She pulled out a kitchen chair and scooted in across the table from him. She told him the whole story as she watched him eat the sandwich and potato chips. “Well, what do you think?” she asked when she was finished.

“I think I'd like to meet her,” he joked. “She sounds really great.”

“Very funny. Remind me later to laugh,” she said sarcastically, and got up and headed to the living room.

He caught up with her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Sorry. Bad joke. I was just trying to keep it light.”

“It isn't light. It's serious,” Emily insisted. She pulled away from him and sat down on the couch.

“Well, I think you should wait until you're calm and then go discuss it with your mother.”

“I can't,” Emily said with some bitterness. “Mom never wants to hear about any problems. Especially now. She's off on cloud nine with her new husband. You should see them, making out like teenagers. It's really disgusting.”

Josh leapt over the couch back into her lap. “Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me!”

Emily shoved him hard and he toppled to the floor. “The only person I have to confide in is Nancy,” she said.

Josh looked up at her uncomfortably. He always looked uncomfortable whenever she mentioned Nancy. Maybe he feels guilty for dumping her, Emily thought. If he only knew that she had been about to dump
him.
Whenever Josh ran into Nancy at her house, they got along fine and chatted like old friends. But Emily could tell that Josh was nervous around Nancy and not really himself.

“Hey, are we going to study, or what?” Josh asked, picking up the notebooks he had brought.

“I guess we can try,” Emily said without enthusiasm.

Her mind was still on Jessie, on the fight they'd had, on having to face her again later. And she thought about Nancy's warning. What kind of bad trouble had Jessie been in? Emily wondered.

After less than an hour she slammed her textbook shut. “I can't concentrate,” she said, tossing the book onto the floor.

Josh tossed his book down too. Then he slid closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close to him. He felt so warm, so safe. His skin smelled sweet to Emily. She kissed him on the cheek, and then he turned her face and kissed her on the lips.

Suddenly she pulled away from him and uttered a
whispered cry. She had a funny feeling that they were being watched.

“What's wrong?” Josh whispered, moving to resume their kiss.

Emily looked toward the front stairway. The hall was dark, but in the shadows she could see someone watching them from the staircase.

Jessie.

She's taken over my room, she's wearing my clothes, and now she's spying on me, Emily thought angrily. Well, there's one thing of mine that she can't have—Josh. I hope the little Peeping Tom enjoys the show.

Emily reached up with both hands, pulled Josh's face to hers, closed her eyes, and kissed him with renewed passion.

♦ ♦ ♦

A soft voice woke Emily from a deep sleep. She looked for the clock on her night-table, then remembered that the night-table was next to Jessie's bed now.

She closed her eyes, but the voice continued in a loud whisper. Jessie's voice. Emily was half-awake. It must be very late, she thought. The sky outside the bedroom window was black and starless.

In the darkness she could see Jessie on the other side of the room, sitting on the floor in the corner beside the desk. She was talking on the phone.

Who can she be calling this late at night? Emily wondered, her mind still fogged by sleep. She could just barely make out a few words Jessie was saying.
She seemed to be having an intense, whispered conversation with someone.

Who was it? What was she talking about so seriously, so heatedly?

Emily raised her head from the pillow to hear better.

“I could kill her,” Jessie was saying into the phone. “I really could kill her.”

Surprise in the Shower

E
mily was standing right under the bell when it rang, signaling the end of the school day. She clapped her hands over her ears, dropping her books in the process, but it was too late. “I'm deaf for life!” she exclaimed.