When We Were Sisters (13 page)

“Of course.”

“I won't be there, either. Between Starla and Jerry you'll be in the best of hands. When you get tired, take a break. Don't hesitate if you really need one.”

Cecilia smiled at me, then she walked up to the porch. Mick and I watched her go, and I felt relieved I wouldn't be there with her trying to figure out what to photograph and what to ignore. Sadly, I knew I should be sorry I was missing the opportunity.

Mick was watching me. “Jerry and I planned this down to the last detail, so I think it's going to go well. She's such a trooper. I don't know why I was blessed to work with her on this, but I'm not unaware how hard this might be emotionally.”

Mick projected such a comfortable presence, he was easy to talk to, and now I did. “I've never been sure whether Cecilia likes challenges or if she just feels life is something you have to plow through. You know, neither rain, nor snow? She's not delivering mail, just herself, her life. And she doesn't let anything stop her.”

“I get the feeling she'll ignore any rule if it's in the way of progress. Her progress, and maybe yours.”

“So you know about Roscoe?”

There was the faintest note of disapproval in his voice. “I heard you left the inn last night. I was hoping viewing the town today would be new for her.”

I angled my body so I could better see his expression. “We didn't get anywhere near the house, Mick. I understood what you wanted, and she agreed. But she needed to be sure she could actually come back today to do this.”

“Then it was a good move on your part. Is Roscoe the dog?”

Apparently film sets are like gossipy small towns. I wondered how many people in Randolph Furnace had heard about the puppy a stranger had rescued at the Evergreen last night. Maybe by now they even knew who the stranger was, although I suspected a crowd would have gathered here if that piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.

“Roscoe is the dog,” I said. “We'll pick him up at the vet tomorrow afternoon. The innkeeper gave permission. Cecilia is a genius at convincing people to do what she wants.”

“She's enormously talented, but I imagine her persuasive powers helped get her where she is, too.”

Fiona, brown hair braided back from her fresh young face, came up to join us. She had a travel mug for her father, and I could smell coffee. “Would you like some, Robin? We brought a jug from the inn. I can get you a cup.”

“Isn't she a love?” Mick put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side.

I tried to remember the last time I'd seen Kris hug Pet that way. He wasn't demonstrative, but he wasn't aloof, either. These days he just wasn't available. Had he put his arm around her last night when she told him she didn't feel well? Had he gotten her tea? Had he gone in to check on her before she fell asleep, tuck covers around her the way I did when she was sick, kiss her forehead or give her a back rub, and tell her he hoped she felt better in the morning?

If he had, he'd probably made a memory.

“No coffee for me, but thanks.” I glanced at my watch. “I think I'm going to call home, just to be sure things are all right this morning.”

“Hard being away? That's why I bring Fiona along. Best of everything that way.”

I tried not to look envious. A short distance away I slid my phone out of my pocket and made the call. Nobody answered, which was a promising sign. At the same time I was a little sorry.

I could call Kris at work. I could interrupt him in the middle of whatever he was doing, whoever he was talking to, to see how Pet felt this morning. I could tell him how I'm starting to get into the swing of taking photographs again, but that it still seems odd and unnatural, like I'm living somebody else's life.

Sadly, not only is he too angry for that conversation, a long time ago I stopped telling Kris when things were going well or badly.

When exactly did all our communications become about the business of our lives and stop being about things that really matter?

14

Kris

Except for one early-morning email, I didn't hear from Robin yesterday. In the afternoon she spoke to Pet and Nik, although neither told me about their conversations. I didn't call back because I really don't know what to say. What am I going to tell her? I'm already worn out? Wearing me down wasn't her point. Robin isn't doing this to prove how indispensable she is. Apparently she needs this trip to find herself. I get that. I'm just wondering what both of us will find by the time she's home again.

I was thinking about this while lying in bed staring at the ceiling. It's Saturday morning, so I don't have to get up quite as early, but a dream woke me—more accurately a nightmare. I saw Robin in a car, another car speeding toward her, and I couldn't scream to warn her. I opened my mouth and no sound emerged. I kept trying and trying....

Stow the steno pad, Dr. Freud. I think I've got this.

Robin did a boatload of work setting up everything so she could leave, but by the end it was clear she couldn't wait to go. She was energized in a new way, excited by something other than us. And me? I'm not going to dwell on this, but I guess I'm jealous. I got used to being the center of Robin's world, used to her holding all of us together in a tight little knot we called family. I could count on that even if I couldn't count on anything else. Robin was there to make sure the knot was strong and nobody could untie it.

Not anymore.

Since stewing isn't helpful, I got out of bed and a moment later my alarm went off anyway. I can't remember when I haven't gone into work on a Saturday. Apparently Robin
can
, because she made no plans for Saturday child care. I didn't realize that until yesterday when I asked Elena what time I could expect her. I have a meeting at nine. She looked at me as if I'd asked her to rewrite the Constitution.

“I don't come in on Saturdays.”

One thing about Elena? She doesn't waste words. Her English is perfect—on the rare occasions I hear it, and on that occasion I'd already heard quite a bit because I had been ten minutes late coming home.

“I didn't realize,” I told her.

“We have a written agreement.”

I wasn't going to admit I hadn't read it because I'd been too busy reading other people's written agreements. “Is there any possibility you can come in tomorrow morning until I make other arrangements?”

“Mr. Kris, I have a son I don't see enough of. He needs to be with me on weekends.”

Left unspoken was the rest.
Your children need to be with you.
Or maybe those words were in my head only.

I struggled for compromise. “Can you bring your little boy with you? Just for tomorrow? I bet Pet would love to play with him. And you don't have to cook or clean. Just be here to make sure the kids are okay.”

Elena's eyes are expressive and at that moment they were filled with as much annoyance as mine. “This one time only I can come tomorrow. But that will be time and a half, and I can't stay beyond two. Raoul has a birthday party.”

“I'll be home by one-thirty.”

I watched her flounce out the door. This morning she would flounce back in, probably with her kid.

The solution to this problem is clear. I have to find somebody to watch Nik and Pet before I get home, so that Elena can leave in time. While I'm at it I need to find somebody for Saturday mornings, too.

Dressed and showered, I went downstairs to paw through the lists Robin had left me. I found the one with local babysitters, teenagers she had used in the evenings when we were both out. None of the names were familiar, but Robin had always taken care of finding and paying sitters, and making sure they got to and from our house safely.

I was keying names and numbers into my phone to call from the office when Pet wandered downstairs. Nik would probably sleep until noon if Elena's son didn't wake him. One less child to worry about right now was a gift.

“Good morning, early bird,” I said. “Elena should be here before too long. Want me to make you breakfast?”

“I make my own on Saturdays. Mommy just makes it on school days to save us time.”

I realized I'd probably seen her getting her breakfast on weekends. I continued trying to sound like I knew what I was doing. “Just make sure you add whatever you need to the grocery list. Elena shops for us on...” I realized I didn't know.

“Tuesdays.”

“Right.”

“The list's on the pantry door. I already added frozen waffles and blueberries. We need more milk, too, but Miss Elena said she'll check the fridge and get things like bread and milk every week.”

“She's probably bringing her little boy with her this morning. She won't usually come on Saturdays.”

Her sleepy eyes brightened. “Does that mean you'll be staying home with us?”

“I'm going to try hard to be home in the afternoons.”

“Oh.” She started toward the sunroom. I figured Saturday-morning television was still on her agenda.

I halted her progress. “I
will
need a babysitter for the times Elena can't be here. Early evenings and Saturday mornings. Do you have somebody you particularly like? Your mother left a list.”

Pet is so much like Robin. Ask her a question and she's never flippant. She gives careful thought to everything. Nik, on the other hand, is impulsive. He rarely thinks before he speaks. Robin says that makes him easier to know, since there's no time for him to hide anything.

I would change
anything
to
everything
. I was once a preteen boy, too.

“I do know somebody who might really like the job,” Pet said. “Remember my friend Jody?”

“If Jody's your
friend
, she's too young.”

“Not her. Her sister Grace. She's a senior, and Jody told me she's looking for a job because she's saving for a car to take to college. She has to earn part of it before her parents pay the rest.”

I could picture Jody. She was around often enough that even
I
saw her occasionally. I could also picture a teenager picking her up out front. But the teenager in my memory was a boy.

“I think I remember a brother, not a sister,” I said.

“Grace and Gil. They're twins.”

“Do you know if Grace babysits? Does she have experience?”

“She doesn't exactly have to change diapers, does she? Besides we're old enough to stay here alone if you and Mommy would just let us.”

I made a sound in my throat, and she knew what it meant. She sighed. “She watches Jody all the time. And she was
our
babysitter once this summer.”

I couldn't help myself. “Having a babysitter is something Jody's parents require, too?”

She lifted her chin and enunciated, as if I needed the help, “I can give you her number if it's not on your list.”

The kids probably
are
old enough to be on their own for a few hours, especially in a neighborhood like ours where somebody is always home to help in an emergency—or at least they used to be. The real problem is that Pet and Nik don't always get along. And leaving them to duke it out without us to referee isn't yet an option.

I thought about emailing Robin to see if Grace might be a good choice. But that would be admitting that the babysitters who'd come and gone here had been invisible to me. Besides, I was perfectly capable of asking a teenage girl to come to our house this evening to talk about it.

“Do that,” I said. “You'd rather have Grace than anybody else on the list your mother left?”

“She's cool.” Pet realized she might have made a mistake. “But not too cool.”

I tried not to smile. “I'll take cool into consideration.”

“Hey, maybe we can do something when you get home?”

She said it so casually it didn't sound important. But I heard the undertone. She wanted to spend time together.

“Would you like to go out to dinner?” I asked. “Nik, too, if he wants. How about that Thai restaurant you like?”

“I used to like Thai. Not anymore.”

I wondered how long ago that change had occurred. Last year she would have eaten pad thai for every meal. “What would you like, then?”

“Hot dogs at the movie theater.”

I envisioned my whole evening going up in smoke. “Sorry, I have to work tonight.”

She cocked her head. “So how long
can
you spend with us? There's always McDonald's. We could be done in fifteen minutes, ten if I gulp.”

Robin might be gone, but her doppleganger was standing right in front of me. I tried for compromise. “Choose any place that doesn't come with entertainment afterward, okay? And maybe we can do a movie tomorrow.”

“Let's wait and see.”

When Elena arrived minutes later with a mop-haired preschooler, Pet was already watching a talking sponge on television.

Elena introduced me to Raoul, who was maybe four, and he stuck out his hand. I crouched to look him in the eye as we shook. “Let me introduce you to Pet.”

My daughter reluctantly abandoned her undersea world. “Want to watch TV with me?” she asked when the introduction was over.

“He is only allowed to watch a little,” Elena warned as her son followed my daughter.

I was on my feet again. “Pet has a million books and puzzles she's outgrown to entertain him. And again, thank you for doing this.”

“I'll help Nik and Pet with their laundry today.”

Did my children even know how to do laundry? Had Robin done it for them as a matter of course? Was ten old enough to know what should go in hot water, what in cold? At twelve would Nik even care?

Elena correctly read my expression. “I will teach them. Your wife assured me that was fine. They may find something dirty after I leave one evening and need to run a load.”

“Of course. But for the record, I do know how to run a washing machine.”

“Do you?” She looked unconvinced. “But why should you ever have needed to?”

Robin had spoiled us, and we had enjoyed it. Suddenly I missed my wife even more. Not because I wanted to be spoiled again, but because she had taken up so much slack through the years and I had so rarely appreciated the extent of it.

* * *

After our morning meeting, which stretched past noon, Buff and I had a quick lunch together, but I had to cut that short to take over from Elena. I worked on the Pedersen case all afternoon. For the record, taking the federal government to court isn't as easy as suing a neighbor for putting his new fence on your property. I didn't believe Pedersen Pharmacies was blameless. Most of the time I'm glad when the government steps in for our safety, and if their role here was to keep more tainted products off the market, how could I fault them?

Except, of course, it's not my job to fault anybody. It's my job to interpret and apply the law to advance my client's position to the best of my ability, knowing that no matter what I do, in the end someone else will be the final judge.

I believe in our legal system. If I don't believe it's always fair or just, I also don't believe that as yet, we've found a better alternative.

At five thirty I took a break to call Jody's sister, Grace, and ask if she would be interested in a job. She agreed to stop by tomorrow to discuss it. Then I went to find my daughter, who had disappeared into the neighborhood. Nik was skateboarding at a local park and had promised to be home by five, although so far he hadn't materialized.

I found both of them at the Weinbergs, sitting on the front steps with Channa. What do you say to a twelve-year-old girl who recently lost her mother and is now moving from the only home she's ever known? Robin would know. I was clueless.

I picked out a step just below them and sat. “Channa, how're you doing?”

“Fine.” She smiled, and I was reminded of Talya, then, swiftly, of the dream that had awakened me. Talya and Michael had lived my nightmare, although Talya hadn't survived it.

I managed a smile, too. “If you don't have dinner plans, I'm taking Pet and Nik out. We'd love to have you come with us.”

“My dad just went to get pizza. He's getting enough for everybody.”

“We were hungry. I figured you wouldn't mind since you were working anyway,” Pet said.

I wasn't sure why I did mind, but the feeling was unmistakable. I wondered if Michael had invited my children to eat with them because he didn't know what to say to his own daughter when they were alone.

What would I have said to mine tonight? And to my son?

I got up. “No problem. We'll go out tomorrow.”

“Not me,” Nik said, glancing at Channa as if he hoped he was about to impress her. “I'm spending tomorrow night with Brandon because we have a project for school. It's heavy, and his mom said she'd take us in her car.”

“I'll probably eat with Jody,” Pet said. “We're going to help each other with our pieces for the piano recital next Saturday, and her mom said I could stay until bedtime.”

“Busy kids I've got.” I waved goodbye.

The house seemed too quiet, even after Nik and Pet came home about eight. They seemed more subdued then normal, maybe because the reality of what was happening next door was deepening. I never
finish
working, but I made it a point to
stop
working about nine to say good-night to them and make sure all was well.

Nik was on the phone when I poked my head into his room, and he waved me away. Pet's light was off and she was already asleep, which surprised me, but I guess she had a tiring day.

I stood in the doorway and watched her sleep, and I wondered just how many bedtimes I had missed.

It was too late to go back to work, and by the look of things Nik wasn't going to be off the phone for some time to come. I wondered if the caller was a girl. I wondered if he would tell me if it was.