by Mary Carter
Carrie Ann thrust the credit card at Jake again.
“No thank you,” Jake said. “Grace, I need some space. I’ll see you back at the apartment.” Before Grace could say a word, they were watching the back of his head recede. It took a lot to upset Jake, so it hurt all the more that she’d pushed him to that point. Why was Carrie Ann back? Why couldn’t she just leave them alone? Grace didn’t want to think about Stan, or Carrie Ann, or the past. She’d paid her penance. Maybe she, like Gaudi before her, should live out the rest of her days in this church. Or at least the rest of the trip.
“He’s testy,” Carrie Ann said.
“Really? Sylvester and the Magic Pebble?”
Carrie Ann shrugged. “It popped into my head.”
Grace hated herself. Jake had been so excited to film their trip. And her mother had looked forward to seeing the film clips, getting a bit of escape from her reality. Grace had really blown it. It was hard not to blame Carrie Ann. Grace closed her eyes and concentrated on her breath. She tried to count to ten in Spanish. When she opened her eyes, Carrie Ann waved the credit card again.
“I meant it. Stan is loaded. We’ll just get another.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“What?”
“You said you’re afraid of him. That he’s a wolf.”
“So?”
“Yet you’re willing to charge up his credit card?”
“We’re married. It’s our money.”
“If what you’re saying is true—”
“If what I’m saying is true? If?”
“I don’t want any of Stan’s money.”
“You probably think it has cooties on it.”
“We’re not twelve anymore, Carrie Ann.” Grace tried to sound haughty, but Carrie Ann was right. It made her shudder to think about touching anything of Stan’s.
“Are you sure about that?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Look.” Carrie Ann reached out and touched Grace’s arm. “I’m really sorry about his video camera, all right? I just wanted to have a nice time with you and Jake.”
“I think I’m under a Spanish curse.”
“Well, you know the cure for that, don’t you?” Grace just looked at her. “A little retail therapy? I won’t even use Stan’s credit card.”
Grace hesitated. She really wanted to follow Jake home. But she knew him. He was going to need a little bit of time to clear his head. She could make things worse if she went home now. “I’m not going to buy anything, but I’ll go with you,” Grace said. Carrie Ann grinned and linked arms with Grace. It startled her. They used to do this all the time as kids. Her father used to joke about them being Siamese twins. The Grace of back then could have never imagined a time when Carrie Ann wouldn’t be just an arm’s length away.
Grace didn’t think she’d ever shake her bad mood, especially with what happened with Jake, but soon she found herself actually enjoying shopping with Carrie Ann. Part of Grace still felt like a little girl around Carrie Ann, so realizing they could shop and go places without her parents’ permission was a heady experience. They had used to sneak into Grace’s mother’s closet and try things on, take turns being the shopkeeper and the movie star. Now here they were, all grown up, shopping in Barcelona. Carrie Ann knew of a great cosmetic store, and as soon as they entered, they came to a dead halt and looked at each other.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Carrie Ann said.
“Coral Bliss,” they both said at the same time. And then they laughed. It had been close to Easter time. They had been following Grace’s parents at breakneck speed through the mall, when Carrie Ann had suddenly shoved something in Grace’s raincoat. Grace remembered reaching down and feeling the sleek tube of lipstick. “Don’t stop,” Carrie Ann had whispered in her ear.
“My heart was hammering so loud I thought the whole store could hear it,” Grace said. “I still have nightmares.” It was true; for years she had been guilt-stricken, sure that she would be punished, or worse, not allowed into heaven. Who risks eternal life for a tube of Coral Bliss? Even after crushing the lipstick, and throwing it into the trash at the curb, and watching the garbage men take it away, she had still been haunted.
“I wanted to see how you would handle it,” Carrie Ann said. “You always seemed so afraid of everything.”
And big tough Carrie Ann wasn’t afraid of anything, Grace thought. She probably hadn’t given a second thought to taking it.
“I don’t need any makeup,” Grace said. “Do you?”
“All you need in Spain is the kiss of the sun,” Carrie Ann said. “Let’s go to Miss Sixty.” Carrie Ann seemed to know exactly where they were going, and Grace was content enough to tag along, feeling more and more relaxed around her long-lost friend. Every once in a while she would steal a look at Carrie Ann, catch a wisp of her white-blond hair in the sun, or her full lips spread in a smile, and Grace would think: She is family. She’s feisty and beautiful, and she came here to be with me again. And for a few minutes Grace could cocoon herself in the moment, without letting in any of the stagnant water pooled underneath the very old and very long bridge.
“European stores are so much nicer, don’t you think?” Carrie Ann said after stepping into the clothing store and within seconds finding a perfect lace top. “This is absolutely made for you, Gracie.” It was a soft pink. An innocent color. Carrie Ann held it out to Grace, and then insisted Grace try it on, even though Grace knew she wasn’t going to let Carrie Ann pay for it. Carrie Ann was right though. It did look good on Grace. Then at Carrie Ann’s insistence they tried on the exact same dress, short and white with big red flower petals, and stood side-by-side looking into the full-length mirror in the open area of the dressing room.
“If you colored your hair blond and wore heels, we could be twins,” Carrie Ann said.
“You have blue eyes,” Grace said. Like Stan. She still couldn’t believe Carrie Ann and Stan were married. Carrie Ann had married the boy she had bullied. Poor Stan. Grace had a hard time believing that he was now the one threatening Carrie Ann. How much was Carrie Ann distorting the truth? She had definitely always lived in the fun house–mirror version of the world. Truth is what you believe it to be, Grace mused. That was a scary thought when it came to Carrie Ann.
Carrie Ann waved her hand. “Contacts could hide blue eyes.”
“Well, I seriously doubt you would want to look like me, and even though you supposedly have more fun, I’ve never harbored a secret desire to be a blonde.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of your life? Don’t you ever just want to be someone else?”
Sometimes Grace wanted things to be different. But you could never be someone else. Grace’s practical side just didn’t allow her to indulge in this kind of thinking. She wished to be someone else as much as she wished to be a giant oak tree. “No,” Grace said.
“I’d become someone else like that.” Carrie Ann snapped her fingers. “And I’d trade places with you in an instant.”
“Me?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t have it made.”
“I’m a struggling country singer,” Grace said. And my mother has between one and six months to live.
“Mostly I just want out of my marriage.”
Grace couldn’t believe she’d married Stan in the first place, and Grace couldn’t help but go there again. “How long have you two been married?”
“Four years.”
“How did it even happen?”
“Do you really want to know?”
The words thumped in Grace’s ears. She was instantly back in the hayloft, Carrie Ann leaning intensely into her, practically breathing down her neck, asking her the same question. Do you really want to know?
Grace should have run. She should have shouted, No! I do not really want to know. She hated how Carrie Ann did that, how swiftly she could make you feel as if you were the one to blame, as if that one loaded question was a legally binding contract—Do you reall
y want to know?—and that in answering yes, you, solely, were responsible for whatever came out of Carrie Ann’s mouth next.
“Only if you really want to tell me,” Grace said, hoping to sound as if she didn’t care. There. That felt better. Why hadn’t she said that back then? Because she was never prepared enough to deal with Carrie Ann. Grace couldn’t believe how quickly she was regressing into a little kid again. I’m an adult, she reminded herself. Almost thirty. I am an adult almost thirty, and I am in Spain with my boyfriend. How many times did she have to say it before she felt it?
“My therapist thought it would be a good idea if I went back to some of the old places. The ones that haunted me.” Grace felt her chest start to constrict. This store was so small. She wanted out. “So I started with the Gales. Lydia still lives in the same house,” Carrie Ann said. “But she tore the barn and the tire swing down.”
Grace wanted her to stop talking. She didn’t want to hear any of it. Except maybe how poor Lydia was doing. She’d changed so much with the whole incident. Was she all right now? Was she still an artist? Did she still believe that it was a child’s birthright to draw outside the lines?
It was partly Grace’s fault. All the hideous things that had happened to one of her favorite people in the world. Even if it wasn’t entirely her fault, she had to take some of the blame. And it killed her. The guilt was poison running through her veins. But she didn’t dare probe into Lydia’s wellbeing any further. No matter how well they were getting along, information was Carrie Ann’s weapon of choice. Grace could never let herself forget that.
“And you—fell in love with Stan?” Grace just had to ask. Carrie Ann turned on her with a disappointed look. “Stan’s right,” she said. “You’ve never been able to see the real him through your goggles of disgust.”
“Stan said that? About me?”
“Of course. He knew you abhorred him.”
“That’s a little strong.”
“Is it, Grace? Is it?” Carrie Ann left Grace standing dumfounded and headed back into her private dressing room. Grace reluctantly went back into hers. Which didn’t mean she had any real privacy. The rooms were side-by-side and they could hear every zip and breath each other took. After a few minutes Carrie Ann started talking again as if she’d never stopped. “I had no idea about his temper—until last year.”
“What happened?”
“He got crazy jealous, that’s what. Of everything. If I talked too long to the female cashier at the grocery store, he would go nuts.”
“Did he—was he violent?” Grace looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look anything like Carrie Ann. The dress hung on her, whereas it hugged Carrie Ann’s curves.
“I have pictures of all my bruises, every one of them, if you ever want to see them.”
Grace didn’t answer at first. What did you say to that? Wimpy, whiny, Stan Gale an intimidating abuser? It was unfathomable on so many levels. She felt better when she slipped back into her jeans, and top, and cowboy boots. Now that felt like her. “That’s horrible, Carrie Ann. Nobody deserves that.” She couldn’t imagine Carrie Ann’s putting up with that. “You didn’t leave after the first time? I’m not trying to blame you—”
“No, I get it.” Grace heard the curtain open, and then another one, and soon Carrie Ann was standing in Grace’s little room in her bra and panties. Carrie Ann turned and looked at Grace through the mirror. “I used to think that of battered women,” she said. “That they were weak. And stupid.”
“Carrie Ann. I didn’t mean—”
“I never thought I’d let a man hit me. Every time I said, ‘next time I’m going to leave.’ But he was always so sorry. I’d think—he’s different. He has a temper. He didn’t mean it. We’ll get through this. All that bullshit I used to judge other women for thinking.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m glad you got out.” Speaking of out, Grace wanted out of this tiny dressing room. She draped the dress over her arm and tried to step out. Carrie Ann grabbed Grace’s wrist.
“You’re so lucky to have Jake.”
Grace looked at her wrist. Carrie Ann let go. “I know,” Grace said. She stepped out of the dressing room.
Carrie Ann walked back into her own dressing room and without bothering to shut the curtain again pulled her green dress over her head. “Is he going to stay mad at you for a long time?”
“No,” Grace said. “He’s not like that. He’ll probably call me any minute now.”
“I hope so, Grace,” Carrie Ann said. “I’d really hate to be the one to come between you.”
CHAPTER 17
Grace wanted to walk back to the apartment, but Carrie Ann insisted on a taxi. As they bumped along, Carrie Ann reached over and took Grace’s hand. “I knew we’d get back in touch,” she said. “We’re sisters. Signed in blood.” Grace wanted to remove her hand, but didn’t know the proper amount of time to wait so that Carrie Ann wouldn’t be upset. Ten seconds? “Listen,” Carrie Ann said when Grace finally pulled free. “I have enough of Stan’s money to travel for a few months. What do you think?”
“That sounds great. I’m happy for you.”
“Not just me. You and me.”
“Not going to happen.” Grace didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh, at least she didn’t think she did, but the stress over her mom, and the camera, and Jake, and the heat made it impossible to be diplomatic.
“I see. Not even going to pretend to think about it.”
“I have things going on at home. I don’t even think we’re going to stay here the full ten days.”
“Because of your mom?”
“I told you not to talk about my mom,” Grace said.
“So much for thinking you would care.”
Grace wasn’t going to rise to the bait. “Just because I can’t drop my other obligations, doesn’t mean I don’t care.” Grace’s cell phone rang. She jumped. Her heart lifted when she saw the screen: JAKE. She snapped it open. “Jake?”
“I’m sorry,” Jake said. “I didn’t mean to storm off.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so, so sorry about your camera.” Next to her, Carrie Ann rolled her eyes. Grace scooted closer to the passenger door.
“Don’t be. I’m going to buy another one,” Jake said.
“I’ll pay for it.”
“Nah. This trip is about your mother, remember? It’s on me.”
“Really I want to—”
“Shhh. We’ll worry about it later. I’m not getting anything too fancy—just something that will do the trick. And guess what?”
“What?”
“I already uploaded all the videos we took, so those aren’t lost.”
“That’s great.”
“We still have some catching up to do.”
Yes, Grace definitely had some catching up to do. She was going to come clean with Jake, tell him the whole tale. Then maybe they’d get all their sightseeing in and head back to Nashville. She wanted to end things on a good note with Carrie Ann, and the longer they hung around together, the less chance there was of that happening. “I’ll be ready when you are.”
“Where are you now?”
“In a taxi. I’m on the way back to the apartment.”
“I’ll be there in a little bit myself. What do you say we hit the Miró museum, just the two of us?”
“I’d love to.”
“Good. You going to have any trouble from Carrie Ann?”
“Of course not.”
“Okay. See ya in about an hour.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Grace hung up and snuck a glance at Carrie Ann. She was looking out the window. Grace heard an intake of breath. Carrie Ann was crying. “Carrie Ann?” Grace felt a physical pain in her chest, a visceral ache. Her insides literally churned at the sound of Carrie Ann crying. By the time Carrie Ann had come to live with them, she had already been in ten foster homes. She had refused to even unpack her suitcase for the first three months. Had slept with it
at the foot of her bed, as if they were going to spirit her away in the middle of the night. Grace’s first feeling of real pride, of accomplishment that made her heart feel as if it were going to burst in her chest, had been the day Carrie Ann let Grace help her unpack her little suitcase. That hadn’t been easy for that tough little girl; she had to soften a part of herself just to let Grace in. And somewhere along the line, Grace had lost sight of that. After all, wasn’t that the point of having a family? People who would love you through it all, warts and all? Grace had forgotten that too.
Carrie Ann was right. They were sisters. Grace had promised her that all those years ago. That was something else she’d forgotten about families; you were stuck with them. A hundred unopened letters. Grace had lied about her mother’s hiding them from her. She was the one who had written RETURN TO SENDER across every single one and stuck it back in the mailbox. Grace reached over and took Carrie Ann’s hand. “Don’t cry,” she said.
“I don’t think I can get through this alone.”
“You’re not alone. I’m here. I’m right here.”
“You’re not. I’ve lost you.”
“You haven’t.”
“You’re not even staying the full ten days.”
“We’ll stay a few more days. And maybe you can come to Nashville sometime.”
Carrie Ann turned to look at Grace. “Do you mean it?”
“I do.”
“Thank you.” Carrie Ann squeezed Grace’s hand. She leaned her head on Grace’s shoulder. “Are you and Jake going somewhere by yourselves?”
“We’re going to a museum. I wasn’t sure it would be your style.”
“I’ll go anywhere. I just don’t want to be alone.”
“Okay,” Grace said.
“Do you think I can squeeze in a nap first?” The cab pulled up to the stop closest to their apartment.
“Jake said he’d be about an hour.”
“Perfect.” By the time they were back in the building and Grace had disappeared into her apartment, doubts were already creeping back in. What had she done? Not only had she promised Jake they’d be alone at the museum, but now she’d just invited Carrie Ann to come to Nashville sometime. Most people wouldn’t think twice about it, but Carrie Ann would. That invitation was like another cut to Grace’s finger, another vow in blood. She leaned against the door and softly banged her head. What were you thinking, Grace? Her mother’s words came back to her. You can’t save her.
