Claire laughed, stretching out a foot to better admire her ballet flats. “I am! Do you like them? Jamie insisted I buy some better shoes. I think she was getting tired of having to carry me home all the time.”
“Oh?” Her sister’s short response was packed with curiosity.
“I’m just clumsy, that’s all,” Claire replied, bristling at something in her sister’s tone. “And we’ve been doing a lot of walking, especially at the antique shops and flea markets.”
“You’ve been dragging Jamie to flea markets? Poor girl.”
“I’d hardly say I dragged her. She loves antiquing more than I do.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“No, seriously. And her eye for finding just the right thing is better than mine, to be honest. But don’t you dare tell her I said that,” Claire said.
“I look forward to meeting her,” her sister replied. “You obviously find her very… talented.”
Claire’s stomach fluttered nervously at this observation. She knew what Theresa was thinking right now, what she was implying with her seemingly innocent remarks. Why couldn’t her sister just be happy for her that she’d made a friend? Why was she so determined to see something that wasn’t there? Thank God she doesn’t know Jamie dates women, she thought. And she would never find out, if Claire had her way. She thrilled for her visit, but would have to keep a close eye on Theresa this weekend.
When they reached the house, Claire raced directly to the second floor with her sister following close behind. She flung open the door to what had until recently been Paul’s darkroom. The space was now completely transformed. The walls had been painted pale pink and the ceiling made to look like a blue sky filled with fluffy white clouds. There were two tiny ivory and gold beds with matching canopies of antique crocheted lace. Wooden steamer trunks sat at the foot of each bed, overflowing with assorted teddy bears. A miniature table in the center of the room was set with a tin teapot painted with delicate pink roses, the crystals of a chandelier emitting rainbow sparkles just overhead.
High atop a ladder in the center of the room stood Jamie, dabbing a brush of white paint against a plaster ceiling medallion. Claire let out a squeak when she saw her, surprised to find her home so early. Jamie turned at the sound and set the brush back in the paint can. Claire watched Jamie descend the ladder, shrinking in stature from impossibly giant-like to merely very tall the closer she got to the floor. Her gaze lingered on Jamie’s khaki coveralls. The cut and color emphasized her height, and.. . there was something else. Claire felt a funny buzzing in the back of her brain, like there was something she should remember that was escaping her. She brushed the sensation aside as Jamie held out her paint speckled hand to Theresa, too nervous over them meeting to think of anything else.
“You must be Theresa,” Jamie said, extending a paint splattered hand.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jamie,” Theresa said. “So this is what you and my sister have been up to the past few weeks, huh? It’s spectacular!”
“Oh, that’s all Claire’s doing,” Jamie replied. “I mostly just use a paint brush.”
“Huh, well, that’s not how she tells it. She says you’re a genius when it comes to this restoration stuff,” Theresa said, and Jamie grinned.
The look that passed between them felt conspiratorial to Claire, who cleared her throat loudly from the doorway. She was anxious to to show Theresa the rest of the house. And to stop her from talking to Jamie too much. Her sister’s behavior seemed a little strange every time Jamie was mentioned, and something about it made Claire jittery. She didn’t want to leave them alone together longer than was necessary.
“Come on, sis,” she called, “don’t you want to get settled in? I set up an extra bed for you upstairs in my room. Wait until you see the view!”
“Nice to meet you, Theresa,” Jamie said, still grinning. “You’ll have to tell me all the rest of what Claire said about me later!”
The following afternoon, Theresa, Claire, Jamie, and Paul sat in the dining room, their mouths and forks filled with turkey and all the fixings, the mahogany table and sideboard straining under the weight of all the platters. The house smelled delectably of the meal that Jamie and Claire had started preparing before the sun rose that morning.
“This meal was absolutely amazing,” Theresa said, breaking the silence. “So, Jamie, you cook, too?”
“No,” Jamie said with a laugh. “And I’m serious this time. This really was all your sister’s doing. She planned the whole meal herself and made everything from scratch. I just followed directions.”
“Well,” Theresa said, looking around the room at all the food, “I can believe that. My sister learned how to cook from our Aunt Marisol, and she always made enough to feed an army. This would definitely give her a run for her money. I’m betting there are at least twenty desserts hiding back in the kitchen right now, too.”
“That’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Claire chastised her sister. “Besides, it’s not like you don’t do the same thing. I was just excited to finally have a chance to cook Thanksgiving dinner for my big sister. I still can't believe you were able to come!”
“How could I not, hermanita?” her sister replied. “You told me you were so homesick you might die if I didn't. Talk about exaggerating, you’re obviously doing just fine.”
Claire felt her cheeks prick with heat at the memory of that particular phone call. It’d been shortly after she arrived, when she still thought the only way to control herself around Jamie was to hide in her room. She was glad to have gotten over that foolishness and given herself a chance to become Jamie’s friend. “It was a rough start. But I’m glad you came, even if I am feeling much better now.” Claire pushed her chair back. “But speaking of dessert, I should go get them ready. Paul, are you staying?”
“No,” he replied. “I promised Vanessa I’d join her and Pete and the girls for dessert. In fact, I should head over there now.”
Paul pushed his own chair away from the table, standing to give Claire a hug. He did the same to Jamie. When he got to Theresa’s chair she put out her hand, but he ignored it and smothered her in a bear hug, too. After Paul left, Claire disappeared into the kitchen to prepare dessert.
* * *
Alone at the table, Theresa turned to face Jamie. “Oh good. Now we get to talk, just the two of us.”
Jamie’s stomach fluttered in a mixture of surprise and alarm. “Sure,” she said, keeping her as neutral as she could. “What did you want to talk about?”
Theresa smiled. “Relax. Nothing bad. This move hasn’t been as easy on my sister as she makes it sound, you know. But she seems so much happier than she did just a month ago, and I’m pretty sure I have you to thank for that, Jamie.”
Jamie shrugged, studying the edge of the tablecloth. “That’s what friends are for, right?”
“Friends. Hm.” Theresa said. “Jamie, since there’s no one else in here right now, do you mind if I ask you something?”
Jamie looked at her expectantly. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“You like my sister, right?”
“Of course,” Jamie said cautiously. “Like I said, we’re friends.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Theresa countered. “Not to make this too awkward, but you’re interested in Claire, right?”
“Did Claire tell you that I date women?” Jamie asked, surprised.
“Would you be offended if I said it was sort of obvious?”
Jamie laughed. “I suppose it is. I would have been more surprised if you said Claire mentioned it to you. She seems a little skittish about that particular topic.”
“The words you're looking for are prudish and terrified. But she was raised by an elderly woman who would have made a great nun, and she's spent most of her adult life immersed in Victorian literature. How else is she going to be?” Theresa shrugged. “But back to my point. It seems to me like you are. Interested in her, that is.”
Jamie sighed. It was only natural th
at her sister would be concerned. “Look, Theresa. If Claire wanted a relationship with me, would I jump at the chance? Absolutely. But she doesn't, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“No, Jamie, you misunderstand me—I’m not worried. Far from it.” Theresa swiveled her head toward the kitchen door where the muffled sound of a mixer indicated that Claire was still busy with dessert. She lowered her voice. “Claire has gone through a complete transformation since she came here. I haven’t seen her this happy in years.”
“She must really like her new job,” Jamie suggested, trying to tamp down the excitement that was bubbling up inside.
Theresa snorted. “That crappy job she took as an excuse to move here? Yeah, she tried to fool me about that, but she forgets I know people.” Theresa shook her head. “It's not the job. I think it’s because of you.”
“Me?” Jamie asked, surprised. There was no logical reason to believe that it had anything to do with her. Yet, she couldn’t help a sudden surge of hope.
Theresa lowered her voice. “The thing is, I’ve suspected for a long time that my sister is more attracted to women than she admits. Which she doesn’t.”
“But what about Jay?” Jamie’s tone was bitter. “That's really why she moved here. She says she’s in love with him.”
“Jay?” Theresa laughed as if to dismiss the idea. “He doesn’t exist.”
Jamie’s eyebrows shot up as an icy chill ran down her spine.
“I mean, obviously he exists, but he might as well be imaginary,” she continued. “She’s done stuff like this before, you know.”
“Like what?” Jamie asked. She slowly let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Pretended to be in love. When she was young, my sister put some random boy’s picture in a frame and told her friends that he was her boyfriend from summer camp. She spent a whole year in college obsessing over a foreign pen pal, only to chicken out right before they were going to meet face to face. So I know what it looks like when my sister is trying to convince herself she’s in love,” Theresa concluded. “That's not how it looks this time. This is something new.”
Jamie swallowed hard. “But it’s the 21st century. Obviously, you’re supportive of her. Why wouldn’t she just say something?”
“You know our parents died when Claire was nine, right? And we went to live with our great aunt.”
“Aunt Marisol,” Jamie said with a snort. “Yeah, Claire’s mentioned her.”
“I'll bet. She had very traditional views, not just about sexuality but pretty much everything. She’s also a master of manipulation. She had a way of getting you to do things her way without you even realizing it.”
“And she used this manipulation on Claire?” Jamie felt a stab of anger at the thought.
“Constantly. Our parents pretty open minded. At least that’s the way I remember them. But Aunt Marisol used their memory like a weapon. If our aunt didn’t like something, she’d say we were dishonoring our parents’ memory. And Claire idolized our parents, so she took that seriously.”
“So she acts the way she does because she thinks that's what your parents wanted?” It didn’t make sense to Jamie. As much as she wanted to please her mother, she’d never lied about who she was to do it.
Theresa nodded. “And eventually she just absorbed a lot of our aunt’s prejudices and opinions because it was easier than fighting.”
Jamie sat in pensive silence for a moment. “So, what do you think I should do?” she finally asked.
“I think she just needs a reason to finally fight. Maybe you can be that reason.”
“What about Jay?” Jamie asked hesitantly.
“Jay.” Theresa sighed, shaking her head. “That’s right, he’s a friend of yours. Is that going to be an issue for you?”
Jamie shrugged her shoulders dismissively.
Theresa chuckled. “All’s fair in love and war, right?” Theresa sighed again, “Jay was never part of my plan, you know.”
“Your plan?” Jamie sounded surprised.
“Yeah, my plan. The whole reason I gave Claire that subscription to Tech Cupid in the first place was that I read somewhere that it was the hottest new site for same-sex dating.”
“It is,” Jamie agreed. “But she didn't think that was strange.”
“Please. My sister is so naive,” Theresa answered. “And they had straight categories, too, so Claire didn't suspect. I just figured once she was in private, her curiosity might lead her in the right direction. I guess I should’ve known better. She is unbelievably stubborn.”
Jamie and Theresa shared a laugh.
* * *
Claire stood frozen in place, the pie tins in her hands momentarily forgotten as she listened to Theresa and Jamie talk from the other side of the kitchen door. My sister had a plan, did she? How dare she! Claire was livid. And she thinks Aunt Marisol is the manipulative one?
Claire’s mind was reeling. No wonder she’d been so confused lately. This is Theresa’s fault! Theresa was the one putting ideas into her head, encouraging Jamie behind her back, making her question her feelings for Jamie when she should have been focusing on Jay. Jay.
Claire’s stomach tightened into a knot. She hadn’t written to him in weeks, not since that night before she and Jamie took the girls to the park, where she had met that woman who had the wife and the son, and then her thinking had gone all topsy-turvy. Damn it, Theresa. He's going to hate me now. What has your meddling made me do?
Claire adjusted the pies in her hands and plastered a smile on her face before opening the door to the dining room. She was already formulating a plan to fix this mess, and neither her sister nor Jamie needed to know anything about it. She’d write to Jay tonight, apologize, never see Jamie again— whatever she had to do to make things right—before it was too late.
Her heart sank at the prospect of losing Jamie's friendship, but it couldn’t be helped. There was no way she was going to put up with being lied to and having her emotions manipulated by anyone else. Not ever again.
15
“Come on, Jay,” Paul whined. “If you don’t finish soon, we’re going to miss the show.” Paul swiveled impatiently on a chair in the cubicle outside Jamie’s office. He'd arrived right after work to go to a movie and Jamie had already kept him waiting twice as long as promised.
“Sorry, I’m almost done, I swear,” she called. Jamie squinted at the spreadsheet containing fifty years of temperature data from the Greenland seas. She sighed. She’d promised to report her findings to Dr. Swenson on Monday. Her eyes ached. She’d been staring at the figures for hours, but it felt like days. Jamie felt strongly that the Institute should hold off on publishing Dr. Matthews’ study, but she was going to have to convince her boss. It would mean working the whole weekend instead of spending it with Claire. The timing couldn’t possibly have been worse.
Just when Jamie had been ready to give up and admit that any attraction she had sensed from Claire was entirely in her imagination, everything changed. Jamie had gone from pining after Claire while she slept, convinced she would always be out of reach, to waking up in an alternate universe where they cooked dinner together and spent the weekends scouring every out-of-the-way corner of the state for playroom furnishings. It was like all of Jamie’s prayers had been answered. It’d been the best month of her life.
Even better, not a single message from Claire had appeared in Jay’s inbox for weeks. The whole unfortunate Jay incident was finally behind her.
Or it’d seemed to be, until last week, when Claire disappeared into her room right after dropping her sister off at the airport. Shortly thereafter a pinging noise rang out to announce a new message for Jay. Jamie had no idea what had changed, but she wasn’t taking this new turn of events well at all.
Jamie slammed her fist down on her desk in frustration and sent a pile of folders cascading to the floor. “Damn it!”
“Hey, don’t hurt yourself in there,” Paul said. “Is this just the work d
eadline that’s got you upset, or is it something else?”
“It’s Claire,” Jamie admitted with a sigh. “She sent another message to Jay this morning. That’s three times this week.”
“I thought she was done with that. You said she hadn’t contacted Jay since the middle of October.”
“Well, I thought it was over, too. We were spending so much time together, and she was opening up to me, and I really thought… hell, Paul, her own sister basically told me Claire was in love with me and that she gave me her stamp of approval. I really thought something was finally happening between us.”
“But Claire never actually broke it off with Jay. Officially, I mean?”
Jamie sighed again. “No.”
“And you never had Jay break it off with her, or tell her he wasn’t coming back to Boston, or anything like that? Weren't you supposed to do that weeks ago?”
“Yeah, but…I didn’t even think of it. I didn’t think it would be necessary. I'll admit, I should have gotten rid of Jay when she moved here, but she wasn't talking to me. I had no other way to know what she was thinking.”
“Yeah, that reason sounds a lot more creepy and a lot less convincing than you probably thought it would.”
“Fine. You're right. It wasn't my best moment. I should have told her as soon as I found out about the profile glitch, or if not then, at least on the day she walked into the Marine Institute looking for Jay. I don't know why I can’t just be honest with her.”
“Because honesty would have ruined your chances then. Let’s face it though, Girly. You’re not the only one who isn’t being honest. If she's reaching out to Jay again, Claire’s lying to herself, big time.”
“I don’t even think she likes him that much anymore so much as she finds his existence reassuring. Seriously, if I think about how the imaginary Jay has treated her since we met in real life, he's kind of a jerk.”
“She wouldn't be the first girl to fall for a jerk,” Paul pointed out.
“I swear, I should just kill him off.”
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