Sister Dear

by Hannah Mary McKinnon

  “Yes, please.” The pitter-pattering in my heart quickened, straining against the protective layer I’d tried to wrap it in. “Sure.”

  After Lewis left, I stood there for a while, studying the closed door, listening to him moving around upstairs, but then I looked at the time and it snapped me out of my reverie.

  “Shit!” I said, rushing around my apartment, pulling on clothes and putting on makeup as fast as I could. I managed to spend enough time on my hair, using the coconut-scented samples Rocco had pressed into my hands, and followed his exact instructions on how to scrunch, scrunch, scrunch and clip, clip, clip in order to properly lift and define my curls.

  It had worked so well, I’d almost done a double take in the elevator mirror when I arrived at work—with two minutes to spare—barely recognizing myself. My old suit and lilac top didn’t make me look huge or bunch in any of the wrong places. I wasn’t slim by anyone’s stretch of the imagination, hadn’t lost that much weight, either, but increasingly felt I was a woman with curves where they belonged. Or perhaps having mind-blowing sex with the hot upstairs neighbor three times in the last twelve hours had messed with my vision, along with everything else.

  “You look different,” Hugh said as we settled in his office, a manila envelope between us, the contents of which had been spread over the conference table.

  “It’s the hair.” I pointed. “Victoria took me to her salon yesterday.”

  “Of course. She mentioned it. It suits you.”

  “All credit goes to the mighty Rocco, but thank you,” I said, blushing again. At this rate I’d burst all the blood vessels in my face before the end of the morning.

  “Okay, can you sign here and here?” Hugh pointed to the spots marked with pencil.

  I speed-read the paragraphs, which all seemed standard, picked up my pen and scribbled my name before sliding the forms back across the table.

  “Great,” he said. “That’s the confidentiality and consultant agreements done. Here’s your badge to get in and out of the building. All right, we’re all set.” He paused, furrowed his brow. “Before I show you to your office I, uh, wanted to say thank you—”

  “My pleasure. I’m thrilled to work here, and—”

  “No, I mean... Uh, of course, thanks for taking the role, but also for spending the day with Victoria.” He hesitated, shifted in his seat and fiddled with his watch. “She said she mentioned she’s been low, you know, about the baby stuff.”

  “Ah, yes.” Now I was the one squirming. She’d asked me not to mention anything to Hugh, which I wouldn’t have regardless. Why had she felt the urge to tell him? Had he demanded to know what we’d talked about? What else had she told him?

  “Well, anyway,” he said. “Thanks for being there for her.”

  “No trouble. It was a lovely day.”

  He pushed his chair back. “Okay, let’s finish getting you set up, shall we?”

  The rest of the morning sped by. Hugh walked me through the building, an old food processing factory located on Marginal Way, which they’d transformed into a state-of-the art brewery. He introduced me to his partners and team members, told them I was a “website wizard,” and each time he said it, the words made my head grow a size. We spent an hour touring the plant while Hugh told me about milling and mash conversion, fermentation and maturation. I could tell how proud he was of the brewery, and the fact he’d founded it with his best friend, two months after he and Victoria had got married.

  “We went on a boys’ weekend to Vegas. But instead of gambling or partying, we spent the entire time in our room, developing the Bell Hops business plan. Victoria was none too pleased I quit my corporate job,” he said with a grimace as we walked up the set of steel stairs. “But she came around. Anyway, this’ll be your office.”

  He pulled open one of two glass doors, immediately silencing the industrial noises once it closed behind us. The roughly two-hundred-and-fifty-square-foot open-plan area was a mixture of brick walls painted gray, huge arched windows that let in copious amounts of light and steel-vaulted ceilings.

  I noticed a girl at the desk in the corner. She sat in a yoga pose, her legs crossed, feet resting on her thighs. When she unfolded herself and got up, her long giraffe-like limbs made her tower over me, bringing her eye-to-eye with Hugh. She looked a couple of years younger than us, had long blond hair, huge blue eyes, full lips and a heart-shaped beauty spot to the right of her nose. Heads had to turn on swivels whenever she walked by, especially with that smile.

  “This is Genie,” Hugh said with a broad grin. “Our systems guru.”

  “Hi.” She stretched out a hand and I spotted a Celtic cross tattooed on the inside of her right wrist. “Am I ever glad to see you. I’ve been going through the website code, trying to decipher it.” She shook her head, exhaled loudly. “I’m definitely in the crapper.”

  “I’m happy to help,” I said, smiling back. “Whatever you need.”

  “Genie will get you set up with everything else,” Hugh said. “She’s the best.”

  “Stop it, boss.” Genie gave him a tap on the arm and Hugh smiled at her again.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Go easy on her, Genie. Don’t scare her off.” Before he made it to the door, he turned around. “Eleanor, it’s customary to take each new team member to lunch on the first day. There’s a small bistro across the road. They have great grilled cheese and tomato soup. Nothing fancy, but delicious all the same. Genie, want to join us?”

  She grinned at him. “I really should do my online course...but what the hell. Okay, then.”

  “Genie’s doing a degree in fine art,” Hugh said. “Major history buff, the kind of person you want working with you because she’s so smart, and on your trivial pursuit team whenever possible, too.”

  “Ugh.” Genie rolled her eyes. “Enough. Don’t make me go all red.”

  “The three of us can grab a quick bite,” Hugh said. “You can tell us more about your plans for Victoria’s website. I’d be happy to pitch in.”

  I looked at him, took in his smile. First the compliments about my hair, now offering to take me to lunch. Was he...flirting? I smacked the ridiculous thought away; the night before really had messed with my head. “Uh, I was hoping to work on Victoria’s site over lunch, actually. There’s still a lot to do. Is that okay?”

  “Sure, no problem,” Hugh said. “I’m in the office next door, if you need me. See you later then, Genie, yeah?”

  “Yes, boss, great,” she called back, and when I glanced at her, I saw a look of unabashed delight lighting up her face, and little attempt to hide it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  TIME WENT BY SO FAST, it felt as if I’d blinked and two weeks disappeared. I spent my lunch breaks working on Victoria’s site, the rest of the days on the Bell Hops project, and the nights... Well, many of those were spent with Lewis. Gorgeous, kindhearted, generous Lewis. He’d let me sketch him one evening, agreed to me taking his picture with my old Nikon despite being camera shy and he took the time to dial my number instead of firing off a quick text, so he could hear my voice.

  “I can’t wait to see you tonight,” he’d whispered this morning as he kissed me deeply, making delicious shivers run down my spine because I couldn’t wait, either.

  I hadn’t told Victoria about him yet, had preferred to keep our relationship—or whatever it was—a closely guarded secret in case mentioning it to anybody made it pop like a soap bubble. I’d avoided discussing Victoria with Lewis, too, for fear he’d think less of me because she still didn’t know who I was.

  I spoke to her most days, either by phone or text, and we had lunch at the bistro across the road from Bell Hops a couple of times. Whenever I heard from Victoria, my heart did a little flip, and when I sent her development updates and the logo for final approval, she called me instantly, insisting how marvelous everything was, and I thou
ght I’d burst.

  No doubt the connection between us had deepened. I’d deftly avoided speaking about her parents, who were on vacation, but she’d asked me more about Dad. She’d held my hand when I’d become teary-eyed, whispering she was there for me, that everything would be all right and I’d cried harder still because I wished I had the guts to confess we were related.

  Hugh, on the other hand, seemed increasingly stressed, staying at Bell Hops far later than anyone else at night. He’d been right about the brewery’s project being in a critical mess and it keeping me busy, but on one of the days Genie had gone for lunch with him again, I’d finally found the time to look into his first wife, Natalie. I’d read articles and watched a news report about her death. As Victoria had said, Natalie had perished in a house fire—“a tragic accident,” the fire marshal had called it—in which she’d been the only victim. Despite searching for more information, I’d found little and decided to let it be, making sure I wiped my browser history.

  On Thursday morning while I was finishing up more code, my cell rang, and when I picked it up, the first thing Victoria announced was that she had “huge news.”

  “What?” I said, her excitement flowing down the phone and into my ear. “Tell me.”

  She let out a muffled squeal. “I quit my job.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did! I signed the lease on the office last night and now that our website’s almost done, I gave myself a kick in the butt. I’m officially on two weeks’ notice.”

  “Wow, Victoria. What amazing news. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. You’ve been such an inspiration to me. I couldn’t have done this without you. I hope you know how grateful I am.”

  “I didn’t do anything—”

  “Sure you did,” she said with a laugh. “And I want to repay you.”

  “Repay me?”

  “Relax, it’s not my weight in gold or anything.”

  “Diamonds, then?”

  “Ha, better. Are you free tomorrow night? Want to come to dinner at our place?”

  “Really?”

  Victoria laughed again. “Yes, really. We’re friends, aren’t we? Don’t sound so surprised. Hugh and I have this tradition where I make an Italian feast the week before Thanksgiving. I have a to-die-for meatloaf recipe from Rocco. Best thing I’ve ever made.”

  “I love meatloaf,” I said.

  “Then this one will blow your mind. Will you come? My cousin Charlotte will be there. It’s high time you met. I think you’ll really get along, and we need someone to help dilute her husband because he’s an idiot.” She laughed again. “But word of warning, don’t tell Charlotte any secrets, okay? I love her to bits but by morning all of Portland will know, too. What do you think? Want to bring someone? Sun Temperature Guy, maybe?”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “I mean, I’d love to come, but I’ll be alone.”

  As we said our goodbyes, I smiled, my expression becoming broader still when I thought about her enthusiasm while extending me the dinner invitation and referring to us as “friends.” I was still grinning when my phone rang again, smiled harder when I saw it was Lewis.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he said, then sighed. “One of my clients asked if I could reschedule her workout for 9:00 p.m. and I’m booked solid before, so I can’t see you earlier. Are you free tomorrow night?”

  “Sure, I... No, wait. I’m going to dinner at...uh...at a friend’s house.”

  “Okay. I’ve got stuff going on at the gym all weekend, so how about Monday?”

  I didn’t want to wait that long to see him. No matter how ridiculous it sounded or how much I didn’t want it to be true, I needed it to be earlier. “You could come with me tomorrow,” I said far too quickly, and without giving the consequences any thought. It was a stupid idea, I knew it as soon as the words left my mouth, except both he and Victoria were important to me, and I didn’t want to keep those parts of my life separate anymore.

  “I’d love to meet your friends,” Lewis answered. “You sure it’s okay?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I reminded myself how he’d clearly stated that my decision not to tell Victoria or Hugh we were related was none of his business. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I added, way more for my benefit than his, hoping I’d have his support.

  As we made plans to meet at my apartment at six thirty the next day, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him my “friends” were Victoria and Hugh. He hadn’t pushed me for any more details of my relationship with them, but in this situation he’d have valid questions, and I needed time to anticipate them and figure out the answers. Part of me hoped Victoria would say it was too late to add a guest, but when I messaged her, she replied with a thumbs-up.

  After work on Friday, I went through my entire closet, dug out a pair of black jeans and a wine-red scoop-neck sweater. I added my camera pendant necklace and silver earrings Dad gave me for my eighteenth birthday, touched up my makeup and studied myself in the mirror.

  My hair, no longer a frizzy bush since I’d religiously followed Rocco’s routine, fell in soft spiral curls. I’d examined photos of Victoria’s makeup on Instagram, too, had watched a dozen instructional videos on YouTube, and the results were astonishing. Smoky eyes and glossy lips, my puffy, pasty face gone. Since I’d dropped a few more pounds and had taken to drinking four glasses of water for every cup of green tea, my skin glowed, especially with the highlighter I’d bought for an eye-watering twenty-six dollars from Penelope at the drugstore. The result was worth it.

  I looked at Dad’s photo on the sideboard. “I think you’d be proud of me,” I told him, my heart pinching. “I’ve met a guy. I’ve made new friends. I’m spending time with people, Dad. Can you believe it? And they’re really, really nice. I think... I think I’m almost happy.” I didn’t say anything about not telling Victoria the truth. Wherever Dad was, he already knew, and I wasn’t ready to have that conversation with him, if only in my head.

  At exactly six thirty, Lewis knocked on my door, and I couldn’t hide my smile. His jeans hugged him in all the right places, and his fitted dark blue shirt showed off his frame. He held a bottle of red wine in his hand and leaned in to kiss me softly on the lips. “Hi, stranger,” he murmured. “You look amazing. Do we have ten minutes to spare?”

  “Ten minutes? For what I have in mind, we’d need ten times as long.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll consider myself warned. And intrigued...”

  Once I’d locked up and we made our way down Cumberland Avenue, Lewis took my hand, my fingers disappearing inside his meaty, gloved palm. It felt familiar yet strange, scary yet safe, a jumble of conflicting emotions I struggled to figure out what to do with. Go with the flow, I decided, anyone looking at us would think we were a couple. Did that mean we were? Maybe it was too soon to discuss it...but there was one thing I needed to bring up, and it couldn’t wait.

  “About where we’re going tonight,” I said. “My friends, they’re, uh, Victoria and Hugh.”

  “Good one,” Lewis said, but when he spotted my expression, he stopped and let go of my hand. “You’re not kidding, are you? And...am I right in thinking they still don’t know who you are?” I shook my head and he whistled. “Well, this might get a little awkward.”

  “You don’t have to come,” I said quickly. “I’m quite self-sufficient, and—”

  “I know, I know.” Lewis sighed. “But I wish you’d told me. Actually...I wish you’d told them because now I’m part of the lie.”

  “I will, eventually,” I said, wincing at his choice of words, although he was right, it was a lie, but hearing it out loud made it all the more real. “I really like Victoria,” I added quietly. “I don’t know how to tell her in case she cuts ties.”

  “Why do you think she’d do that?”

  “You said so yourself, because I lied.”

  “You might
be right,” Lewis said. “But it’s been weeks and surely the more you delay—”

  “I’m not ready yet, okay?” I snapped. “Remember, you said you had no right to tell me what to do. And, again, you don’t have to come.”

  He looked at me. “You’re right. And I want to come, I do. It threw me, is all.”

  At first I felt the atmosphere between us shift, but within a block he’d taken my hand again, holding it as tight as before. I remembered his comment about arguing with Janique on their second date being a bad sign, reminded myself of our disagreement at The Pump House on our first, and he’d still asked me out again. Plus, that was a couple of weeks ago and he’d known about Stan, Victoria and Hugh before then. All that had to count for something, but he felt uncomfortable about who we were going to see tonight and I didn’t blame him.

  “You’re absolutely sure you’re okay going to their place like this?” Lewis said as we stood outside Victoria and Hugh’s building. “There’s still time to back out.”

  “I want to spend time with her, Lewis,” I said. “I really like her, and I know you will, too.” I held up my finger and pushed the buzzer, trying to quiet the nerves.

  My belly took a while to settle after we arrived, despite Victoria fussing over us, thanking Lewis for the bottle, pressing a glass of white wine into my hand and fetching him a beer, while Hugh introduced us to Charlotte—who sat in a chair with a pair of crutches by her side, her medical-boot-clad foot propped up on a pouf—and her husband, Malcolm.

  “I heard about the accident,” I said. “How are you? Not in any pain, I hope?”

  “Oh, I’m okay.” Charlotte waved a hand. “I’ll survive.”

  “She’s a trouper,” Victoria called over from the kitchen. “Never complained once.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Malcolm said, and his tone added to the instant dislike I’d felt when he’d shaken my hand. I’d had to stop myself from wiping my fingers on my pants when he’d let go. While the rest of us were dressed casually, as per Victoria’s instructions, Malcolm looked as if he’d time-traveled from Wall Street circa 1985. Pin-striped suit, slicked-back hair—revealing a widow’s peak Dracula would’ve run through sunlight for—and a chunky monogrammed ring.