The blue dress that Nathalie had worn in A Streetcar Named Desire hung without protection, and Gemma reached out to touch it. The fabric felt rough but thin. She pulled it out and held it in front of her.
The only mirror in the room was above the dresser, and Gemma turned so she could see how it would look on her. Nathalie was taller than Gemma, so the dress was a little long, and Gemma was a bit thinner. Otherwise, it looked about right.
“Gemma!” Brian called from downstairs. “Supper is done!”
“I’ll be right down!” she shouted.
She took another minute to admire her reflection with the dress, and wondered what her mom would make of all this. If Nathalie were around, would Gemma have become a siren? Would Harper have become so neurotic? Would everything have turned out so much better?
Those were questions that Gemma could never know the answers to. So she hung the dress back up, closed the closet door, and left her dad’s clothes on the bed.
“We’re gonna eat inside tonight,” Brian said when Gemma came into the kitchen. “I was planning on us eating out in the backyard, but the heat is ridiculous. The dog days of summer are really here.”
“Yeah, it’s been really hot the last few days,” Harper said as she set bottles of ketchup and mustard on the table.
For the next few minutes they got settled and loaded their plates up with meat and potato chips. Brian took long drinks from his beer, while Harper and Gemma sipped their soda, none of them saying anything.
“Are you all ready for tomorrow, then, Harper?” Brian asked, breaking the silence.
“Not completely. But almost,” she said between bites. “I still have packing to do, but I should be done by tomorrow.”
“Good.” He nodded. “I thought I would take a half day tomorrow, help you get everything loaded up, then all of us could drive up to Sundham and make sure everything gets squared away.”
“That sounds good,” Harper said. “I know that Daniel had wanted to come. Do you think it’d be okay if he rode back with you guys? He’d ride up there with me.”
“Um, yeah.” Brian thought for a minute, then nodded. “Yeah. That should be fine.” He looked across the table at Gemma. “Does that sound okay with you? You’ll have to sit with him in the truck.”
“It’s fine by me,” Gemma said. “Daniel doesn’t bite.”
“I should hope not,” Brian said, almost under his breath.
“So…” Harper said when they lapsed into silence again. Gemma was barely touching her food, preferring to munch on chips instead of really eating. “It’s the last family dinner. For a while anyway.”
“Yep.” Brian smiled at Gemma. “It’s just me and you now, kid. Think you can handle it?”
“Yeah.” Gemma smiled back at him.
“I think we’ll manage,” he assured them with a lopsided grin.
The conversation ran dry again. While they weren’t the most chatty family on the planet, they usually talked freely. The tension of things to come was bearing down on them, though, and it was hard to make cheerful small talk.
“Part of the reason I wanted this dinner tonight was because Harper is leaving tomorrow,” Brian said, his eyes fixed down on his half-empty plate. “But that’s not the only reason. I knew this was my last chance to talk to you girls together for a while, and, um … I needed to talk.”
“What’s wrong?” Harper asked. “Is it cancer?”
“Harper!” Gemma said, appalled. “Why would you even ask that? Why is that the first place your mind goes?”
“Calm down.” Brian held up his hand. “It’s not cancer. I’m not sick. Everybody’s fine.”
“Sorry,” Harper said. “Just when I hear ‘sit down and talk,’ I immediately think bad news.”
“Well … stop that. Everything can’t be bad all the time.” Gemma leaned back in her seat, then turned to Brian. “What is it, Dad?”
“I’m divorcing your mother,” Brian blurted out.
Harper and Gemma instantly fell silent and just stared at him.
“Why?” Gemma asked, and once she spoke, the questions came out rapid-fire.
“What about Mom’s health insurance?” Harper asked, leaning forward on the table.
“The accident was almost ten years ago,” Gemma said. “Why would you stay married to her for so long just to divorce her?”
“Where is she gonna live?” Harper asked. “You can’t leave Mom out on the street.”
“Is this because Harper is going to college?” Gemma asked.
“If you can’t afford her insurance and college, you don’t need to give me any money. I already told you not to,” Harper said.
“Why did you go see her? Did you already know you were going to divorce her?” Gemma asked.
“How long have you been planning this?” Harper added.
“You both need to stop talking,” Brian said calmly but firmly. “I’ll explain everything to you if you just listen.” He waited until they were both quiet before continuing. “Thank you. I love Nathalie. Or I did. The way I feel about her is very complicated, but … we’re not a real married couple anymore. She’s not a wife.”
“She’s your wife,” Gemma said pointedly.
He shook his head. “I can’t talk to her.”
“Yes, you can,” Gemma persisted. “We talk to her. We see her every week.”
“I can talk to someone who looks like my wife and sounds like my wife, but she isn’t,” Brian said sadly. “I can’t tell her about you, or about my job. I can’t ask her questions. I can’t share my worries or concerns. I can’t laugh with her.”
“But Dad, she hasn’t changed in years,” Harper said, her tone softer and less accusatory than Gemma’s. “She’s been like this for a really long time, and you knew that. Why now?”
“I stayed married to her partially for you,” Brian admitted. “I knew it would upset you if I divorced her, and I didn’t want to abandon her. She’s sick. I know she is, and I didn’t want to be the guy that left her or couldn’t hack it.”
“But you can’t hack it,” Gemma said, and Harper shot her a look.
“No, there’s nothing to hack, Gemma,” Brian said. “This hasn’t been a marriage for a very long time. She is still family. She’s your mother, and she will always be a part of this family. That will never change. We just won’t be married.”
“Why now?” Harper asked.
“You’re getting older. And I see you girls, and the way you struggle to find a place. It feels like things have been in flux for a long time, like we can’t move forward and we can’t go back. And I need to make sure you feel like you have someplace strong, someplace safe to come back to, so you feel confident to venture out into the world.”
Gemma snorted. “You think getting a divorce will make us feel safe?”
“I think it will show you that sometimes you have to move on,” Brian said. “Sometimes bad things happen, and it’s nobody’s fault, but you can’t dwell on them. You have to make the best of this life, and I don’t think I’ve been a good example of that.”
“We know you tried the best you could, Dad.” Harper smiled wanly at him.
“That hasn’t been good enough,” he said.
“So what’s going to happen to Mom now?” Gemma asked.
“I talked to the lawyer that was handling Bernie’s estate, and your mom actually qualifies for more benefits if we’re divorced,” Brian said. “She’ll be eligible for better care.”
“So she’s going to move?” Gemma asked.
Brian shook his head. “No, no. That was a big condition. I would never go through with this if it meant taking your mom away from you or putting her in a bad situation. I’ll still be her legal guardian, and she won’t move. When you girls are older, if you want to, you can step up and take over her guardianship, but I don’t want to put that on you. I’m fine handling her affairs.”
“I still don’t understand,” Harper said. “Why now?”
“I want you both
to be happy. That’s honestly the most important thing in the world to me. That you two are happy and healthy.” He paused. “But you’re growing up. You have lives of your own now. I hardly ever see either of you.”
“Sorry, Dad,” Harper said.
“No, don’t be sorry. That’s the way it ought to be. But I’m forty-one years old. Pretty soon I’ll be alone in this house. And I can’t still be in love with a woman who is never coming back.”
“If this is what you think is best,” Harper said, “then I support you.”
“Thank you, sweetie.” He reached out and touched her head gently.
“Gemma.” Harper leaned over and took Gemma’s hand. “It’ll be okay.”
“I just feel like everyone’s abandoning her.” She swallowed hard. “And it’s not her fault. Mom didn’t do anything wrong. She can’t control who she is anymore.”
“I know,” Brian said. “And she’s not being punished. This isn’t about it being her fault. Nobody’s abandoning her. I want to make that perfectly clear.”
“I know it shouldn’t matter, because I’m sixteen, and Mom’s not even around. Nothing will really change. But…” She exhaled.
“Nobody will forget about her or leave her behind,” Harper said. “You know I would never let that happen. Right?”
“Right,” Gemma said reluctantly. “I know. Sorry.” She wiped at her eyes. “I’ve been emotional lately, and this just … I don’t know. I’m sorry, Dad. I know that you wouldn’t take this decision lightly, and you love Mom. So if you need to do this, I understand.”
And she really did. Deep down, she understood.
But just then it felt like a tidal wave was rushing over and crushing her, destroying everything in her life. And no matter how hard she tried, Gemma felt powerless to stop it.
THIRTY-ONE
Madness
Thea had begun wearing powdered white wigs to cover up the patches of hair that were missing. Nearly every moment she wasn’t with Bastian, she spent in the sea outside of the house.
It was all she could do to silence the watersong, and even with that, it was nearly driving her mad. It woke her in the middle of the night, and she’d have no choice but to slip out and hope the salt water would clear her head.
Nothing really worked anymore. On top of the body aches and constant migraines, she’d begun hallucinating. She’d hear crows cawing in her room when there were none, and out of the corners of her eyes she’d see the flutter of wings. She felt on the brink of madness.
The thick curtains were still drawn, but the windows were wide open. A wind was blowing off the Mediterranean, making the curtains billow out and allowing some light into the room.
Despite the icy temperature, Thea wore only a thin sleeveless slip. Her coarse red hair had been woven into two braids along the sides of her head, carefully covering up the bald patches, until they became one frayed braid in the back.
She paced the room, alternating between gnawing on her broken fingernails and scratching at her skin. The constant hum of the watersong nearly drowned out every other noise, and she didn’t hear Bastian open her bedroom door. When she realized someone was sneaking in—she’d forgotten his usual morning interlude with her after spending the night with Penn—Thea nearly attacked him.
“Thea!” Bastian grabbed her slender wrists before she beat them against his chest. She’d leapt at him as soon as he slipped inside. “What has taken over you?”
She’d been snarling seconds before, but as soon as she realized it was him, her body relaxed and she made a pitiful sob.
Thea pulled her hands from his and threw herself against him, pressing her cheek tightly to his chest. He wore a shirt, but it was undone at the top, so she could feel his warm bare skin against hers.
“I’m sorry, my love,” she whispered into his chest, her words coming out in a husky rasp. It wasn’t an unpleasant sound, but it was a great departure from the silk and honey her voice had been before.
“What is the matter?” Bastian grabbed her shoulders and roughly pushed her away from him. “It’s as dark and cold as the dead of winter in your room.”
“It’s too hot outside, and the sun is too bright,” Thea said.
He went over to close the windows, and Thea trailed after him, following at his heels. When he opened the curtains, she cringed in the sun, so he sighed and pulled them back again.
“Thea, you’re falling apart,” Bastian said as gently as he could. “You need to bathe, get dressed, and eat something. You should use this morning to put yourself together, then meet your sisters and me downstairs for breakfast.”
“I am falling apart,” Thea admitted with a sob. “I cannot do this anymore. I must eat something.”
“Then eat!” He gestured widely.
“No, I need to feed.” She whispered the last word as if afraid of someone overhearing, and hugged herself tightly.
“Feed?” Bastian cocked his head. “Haven’t you been feeding with your sisters?”
She shook her head. “No. You asked me not to, and I haven’t eaten in months. In the beginning it was no problem, but the last few weeks have been unbearable.”
“That’s what’s possessed you?” Bastian asked. “The unraveling of your hair, the pallor of your flesh, the violent rages you’ve been prone to.”
“I have not been violent,” she insisted. “And it was as you asked.”
“I never asked you to stop feeding.” Bastian was taken aback. “I would never ask you such a thing. When I became involved with you, I knew what monster you were and what it required for you to sustain that monster.”
“But I’m not a monster!” Thea yelled. “You told me before that you could not declare your love for me because of my shared bloodlust with Penn. But I have given it up. I’ve abstained from the evil for you.”
He stared at her, his brilliant blue eyes seeming to look through her, and it was several moments before he spoke again, moments in which Thea could hear only her heart and the nagging of the watersong.
“Thea, I never asked this of you,” Bastian said. “I’ve never asked you to give up anything. If you took my words that way, then you have misunderstood, and for that I am sorry.”
“So then you care not about my bloodlust?” Thea let out a long sigh of relief, and she smiled dazedly at him. “Then there will be nothing that stands between us. I will feed this evening, and we can be on our way.”
“On our way?” Bastian asked.
“Yes.” Thea continued smiling as she stepped toward him. “Penn’s been unable to find a way to break the curse. We’ve traveled as far and away as we can, and we’ve come up with nothing. Even the muses insist this is eternal. But if you accept that I have a monster inside me, then it doesn’t matter.”
“I do accept that, but I don’t understand what that has to do with us leaving,” Bastian said.
“We can be together. I love you, and though you haven’t said it yet, I know that you love me,” Thea said. “Without the curse in our way, we can be rid of Penn and move away from here.”
“That may have a nice sound to it, but Aggie and Gia would never stand for the murder of your sister,” Bastian said.
“They won’t care.” Thea leaned against him, wrapping her fingers in the soft cloth of his shirt and staring up at him. “With Penn gone, they will listen to me. If I say it’s as it should be, they’ll believe me.”
“You want me to help you kill your sister, then run off with you and live out our existence in some kind of lovers’ dream?” Bastian asked, but there was coldness in his words, something that frightened Thea.
“Yes,” she said, but her smile had faltered.
“Why would I do such a thing?” Bastian asked, laughing darkly. “Why would I even want to?”
“Because we love each other.” Thea searched his eyes, trying to find the warmth she’d once felt in them before.
“You’ve mistaken my affection for something far more than it is.” He pushed his hands off h
er and took a step away. “I never said that I loved you, and with very good reason. I don’t love you, Thea.”
“Then what are you doing?” Thea asked, her voice trembling. “Why have you lain with me in my bed every day? Why have you stayed in my home for months?”
“Because I am a man, and you are a beautiful woman,” Bastian said. “I have no place to live, and you are wealthy. You have been with so many, many men, Thea. I thought you understood this arrangement.”
“No.” She shook her head and went back over to him. “This is different. We shared something. I know that you felt something for me.”
She grabbed his shirt again, clinging desperately to him, and when he tried to push her free, she refused to let go.
“Thea, let go of me. I’ve made a grave mistake with you, and it’s time that I’ve moved on. I’ve spent far too long in this house with you and your sisters.”
“You’re leaving?” Thea cried. “You cannot leave. I won’t let you throw everything away. I know that you love me!”
“Thea!” Bastian finally succeeded in getting her free and pushed her back so she fell to the floor. “I do not love you. I have never loved you, and I never will.”
“That’s not true, Bastian.” She sat at his feet, weeping openly. “I won’t believe that.”
“My wife Eurydice is the only person I have ever loved,” Bastian said. “When she died, I gave up singing, I took a new name, and I stopped loving. I gave up my heart, Thea. I cannot love you.”
He turned to step away, and Thea scrambled to her feet. She grabbed his arm to stop him, but he kept going. Her bare feet slipped on the cold floor, and she stumbled and fell. He stopped, staring down at the mess that Thea had become.
“Please, Bastian,” she begged. “I don’t care if you love me or not. But please, don’t leave me. I don’t think I can live without you.”
“Stop the hysterics,” Bastian said, sounding disgusted. “I had no idea you were such a weak-willed woman. To think, at one time, I preferred you to your sister.” He snorted.
“What do I have to do to make you stay?” Thea asked, oblivious to his insults. “Tell me what I need to do, and I shall do it.”
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