The Sisters

by Rosalind Noonan

  He nodded, not taking the bait. “We’re trying to locate the next of kin for her. Do you know if Glory Noland has any family in the area?”

  Ruby’s heart sank. Had he just said “Glory Noland”?

  “I wish I knew more about her, but as I said, I never met Glory.” Nicole shot an annoyed look at the house. “But Leo? He’s come knocking on my door before to collect Luna. If you’re conducting any kind of investigation, I’d start with him.”

  “Ms. Noland’s fall seems to be an accident. So far this is a routine investigation.” He clicked his pen. “But let me get your names so I can let you go. It’s getting late.”

  Ruby didn’t want to get herself in trouble, but when he asked for her ID—maybe because of her age, or maybe it was the color of her skin—she complied. She made up some excuse about dropping off a friend in the neighborhood and seeing the ambulance in front of the house. Yes, she had met Glory, a few times at the mall. No, she lied, she didn’t know about next of kin.

  Driving home that night, Ruby held it in as she maneuvered out of the little neighborhood, across the Willamette River, and south on the interstate. She told herself she was too tired to feel anything as she tried to sort through Glory falling or jumping from a window, and the little girl named Luna who claimed that Glory was her mother. Glory had another kid? That didn’t seem right, because Glory had told her that children were not allowed to live in the house with the sisters. That had been the reason Glory had left Aurora and her behind all those years ago.

  But it seemed to be true. Although the cop wasn’t aware of the girl, Hazel and Nicole had vivid details about Luna, the girl in the house. It was all a big jumbled mess that couldn’t be solved tonight. Tomorrow she would go online and see if there was any news about Glory’s condition. She was so tired she wanted to cry as she pulled the car into the driveway and turned off the engine. Moving quietly through the house, she locked the door behind her and went downstairs to her room. Rolled up like a burrito in her favorite blanket, she tried to sleep. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw the flashing blue and red lights that raced and darted over the landscape like a chain of rogue waves.

  Emergency. Emergency. Emergency.

  A terrible accident.

  A serious injury.

  A failed rescue attempt.

  And all the time Glory had insisted that she was in danger, Ruby had thought she was exaggerating.

  CHAPTER 38

  With her hands pressed to the tiny round vent in the attic, Luna struggled to hold herself up as she sucked in fresh air. It smelled funny, different, but everything smelled a little bloody since her nose was swollen and clogged up. After falling into a fitful sleep last night, waking whenever she rolled over and felt the throb of her head and face, she had spent most of the day crawling from her sleeping bag to the vent in the wall, where she tried to get fresh air. It was so hard for her to breathe, and her head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton balls. The dampness of the air felt good on her swollen face, but she kept expecting Mama to come in with a Tylenol for the pain. Mama would make her feel better. But the only visitor she’d had was Sienna, who’d come in sometime before dawn.

  “It was Natalie who did it to you,” Sienna had told her as she’d dabbed at Luna’s swollen cheek with something cold and stingy. “She had us all fooled. The bitch has muscle.”

  Luna’s fingers had trembled as they moved over the swollen flesh of her cheek, her tender face. “What did she do?”

  “Hit you with a frypan.” She mopped at Luna’s face and neck, where the cold cloth felt good. “You are just a bloody mess, but I’ll get the wound cleaned and covered. You can clean yourself up when you get out of here.”

  Luna drifted, unable to answer. It seemed impossible that Luna would ever lift her heavy body from the pallet on the attic floor. When she opened her eyes again, Sienna’s face was softer than usual; her lips were not pressed into the slash of a sneer as she looked down on Luna and lowered something cold to her face.

  “Ughh. . . .” Luna gave a low howl.

  “I know, little girl, but the ice will make the swelling come down, and we need some pressure to stop your cut from bleeding. Kimani says you need stitches in that gash, but Leo won’t allow it. After last night, he said no one’s going to see a doctor for a long time. Except Natalie, of course. Queen bitch.” She stroked Luna’s hair back from her forehead. “See? Once it numbs up, it’s not so bad.”

  “Why are you being nice to me?” Luna’s voice was raspy from her dry throat.

  “Because I’m pissed at him.”

  “When is Mama coming back?”

  “I don’t know. Go back to sleep.”

  The next time Luna woke up, milky light filtered in from the windows. Her face and head were still throbbing with pain, but that was nothing compared to her desperation to see Mama, to hold her hand and hear her voice and know that everything was going to be okay. She should have known that Leo was lying when he said he’d take her to the hospital. He’d never taken Luna anywhere in the car, even though she’d gone through a phase when she’d begged for a ride—just a ride through the streets of the neighborhood in the new van.

  Instead, Leo had dragged her, kicking and screaming, into the house. Once inside the kitchen, Luna had finally broken free of his grip and started to bolt out the slider. She’d been planning to run to Mama in the ambulance. To Hazel and her mom. To anyone who would help Mama and her get out of this house forever. She had just pushed away from Leo when a crash exploded in her head, making stars and pain pop out in the darkness.

  She had thought it was Leo, but Sienna had said Natalie.

  Natalie. Luna hadn’t expected that, but then she hadn’t thought she’d see Natalie rise from her wheelchair and walk around the way she had last night.

  Now Luna moved away from the vent and pulled herself up, smelling the caked mud and bloodstains on her nightgown. She wished she could take it off, but she didn’t have clothes up here. One of her hands was bloody, too, the nails blackened from blood. Gross. She used the bucket and drank a little water from a plastic pitcher someone had brought up. There was also a sandwich sitting in a ziplock bag. Peanut butter. She didn’t touch it.

  It didn’t hurt to stand, so she stood at the small window. For a moment she caught her reflection, the dried blood, the black eye, the bandage on her cheek. A wounded soldier girl. She hoped it would heal fast so Mama wouldn’t be upset when she saw her. She peered out toward Hazel’s house. What time was it? She didn’t know if it was morning or afternoon, but she longed for a sight of Hazel in her totes adorbs red slicker and matching boots. Right now there was nothing but the empty backyards, gray sky, and drizzle that soaked the fence and grass.

  But Luna could wait.

  She had time.

  Maybe, if Hazel came home while Luna was watching, she could get her attention.

  My friend. I know you would help me if you could.

  Luna wished she could squeeze her little body out through the vent and fly down to Hazel’s yard. Hazel’s mom would drive her in a car to the hospital. She’d take her straight to Mom’s room, and Ms. Nicole wouldn’t be scared that Leo was mad at her.

  The Hansons were her way out. Mama had escaped. Now it was up to Luna to catch up. But she couldn’t squeeze through the vent, and she couldn’t fly.

  She would have to wait for the right moment to fly away to Mama.

  * * *

  The damp air was layered with the smells of fresh-cut trees and woodsmoke as the family searched for the perfect tree. Following the others through the rows of green, Tamarind hummed along with a symphonic version of “Joy to the World” that flowed from the sound system. The season was here, and Tamarind, grateful to be breathing, wanted to dig in and savor every smell, taste, and Christmas carol. They had started with Sunday brunch at Le Metro, eating flaky croissants, eggs, and thick bacon under strings of blue and white lights that Aurora said made the restaurant look like a fairyland. No, Tam
arind wasn’t firing on all pistons yet, but she had pushed for this outing, knowing that the fresh air would do her good after feeling like she’d been riding a skiff in a storm since her chemo treatment. It was important to stick to their regular routine, especially one as important as picking out their Christmas tree the first weekend in December.

  “Let’s get that one!” Aurora said as the teenage guy with the watch cap and ruddy face twirled a tree for their family to see. “It’s so grand, like in White Christmas.”

  “We need something to fit our family room,” Pete said, “not the Dusky Pine Lodge. Something shorter.”

  “We can always trim the bottom for you,” the kid said.

  “Thanks, but I’m looking for eight feet,” Pete said.

  “But Ruby and I want a big tree this year,” Aurora insisted.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You said we had a twig last year,” Aurora insisted. Ruby shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “I was just kidding.”

  “But isn’t a bigger tree more work to do?” asked Rima, who had never been shopping for a Christmas tree before. Tamarind’s family had always celebrated the Hindu festival of Diwali and over the years had taken on many Christmas traditions, such as gift giving, joyful music, and festive dinner gatherings. But never the tree. Rima didn’t like the idea of bringing pine needles and animal nests into her home.

  Now a woman sang “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” with a country twang, and Tamarind sang along, causing Aurora to roll her eyes.

  “We’re looking for an eight-foot tree, girls.” Pete turned to the teenage boy. “Do you have anything shorter?”

  “Sure.” The kid scanned the church parking lot, squinting. He didn’t seem so sure. “Let’s try over here.”

  As the family traipsed after the young man, Tamarind fished her cell phone from her pocket and took some photos. The cancer had taught her that it was always time to make memories and grab a few pictures for posterity. She was capturing a rare shot of Ruby and Aurora together in front of a wreath when her phone chimed.

  “Who is calling me on a Sunday?” She saw that it was Ruth Thorn. “Delilah’s mother.” She tapped the button to answer. “Hi, Ruth.”

  “Tamarind, I’m sorry to bother you, just knowing what you’re dealing with. I hope you’re feeling okay.”

  “Feeling good today. We just went for a little family brunch.”

  “Wonderful! Are you able to talk? I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

  “It’s fine,” Tamarind lied.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I just thought you should know. Ruby’s a great kid and we love her, so this is probably nothing. But the other night, Friday night, when Delilah had Ruby come for a sleepover? Ruby left sometime after midnight and didn’t return.”

  “Oh, really. She didn’t?” She glanced at Ruby, who was facing away from her, inspecting trees. “No, I didn’t know about that. I appreciate you telling me.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what these girls are up to, but with my girls there are usually some shenanigans involved when they disappear.”

  Tamarind chuckled. “Shenanigans. I haven’t heard that word in years, but yes, it sounds like something’s going on.”

  “I just thought you should know.”

  “I appreciate that. I’ll let you know if anything pops on this end.” When Tamarind ended the call, Ruby and Pete were nowhere in sight, but Aurora had edged closer, listening in.

  “Where’s your sister?” Tamarind moved down the aisle, her boots clicking on the pavement as she passed a family with little kids, the youngest ones hopping in glee.

  “Is Ruby in trouble?” she asked.

  Tamarind gave her a withering look.

  “I’m just asking.”

  From the end of the aisle Tamarind spotted Ruby, Pete, and Rima lingering near one of the checkout counters. “We’re having hot apple cider,” Rima said, lifting a minicup. “It’s very good. Plenty of cinnamon.”

  “Would you like some?” Pete offered.

  She shook her head, her gaze trained on Ruby, who seemed to watch from a million miles away. Traces of the old Ruby, who’d been haunted by anxiety, by the sad sorrow of longing for something she could never have. “I just got a call from Delilah’s mother. She was concerned.” Tamarind recounted the call, watching Ruby retreat further away, until she was left staring at the ground. The reaction scared her. There was something going on, and it seemed a lot weightier than typical teen shenanigans.

  “Wait a second.” Pete straightened and squared his feet, the papa bear instinct emerging as he faced Ruby. “You snuck out of Delilah’s house?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I just drove around, and then I came home. Remember? I was home before breakfast.”

  “You drove around alone? In the rain?” Pete balled up his empty cup and shot it into the can. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “I would have been out of my mind with worry if I’d known that was going on,” Tamarind said. “Not a good choice, Rubes. We trust you with your friends. We let you use the car. We do that expecting you to make responsible choices.”

  “I’m sorry. I just . . . I needed to work some things out.”

  “Well, pull something like that again and you’ll be doing your thinking on a bicycle.” Pete lifted his chin in that authoritative gesture that reminded Tamarind of his father, Doc. “Don’t make me start watching mileage on the car now.”

  Tamarind wanted to stop him from coming down hard, but she bit her bottom lip and kept quiet. Discipline was a good thing, in the right doses. And if he was going to be the hard guy, she could offer a sympathetic ear.

  “I won’t do it again.” Ruby’s voice was hollow, zombie-esque.

  “All right. Sheesh. Let’s move on, all right?” Pete went over to the first row of trees and tugged at the branches of a noble fir. “There’s got to be at least one Doug fir on this lot that isn’t twelve feet tall,” he said as he disappeared in a flurry of green.

  “If you ever want to talk . . .”

  “I know, Mom,” Ruby said, staring at the ground. “I’m sorry, especially now, with your treatment and everything. This is my screw-up, but it’s not about you or Dad. I love you guys, okay?”

  A screw-up? Oh, God, that sounds bad. “Honey, what happened? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just really sorry. I won’t let it happen again, okay? I promise.” Ruby’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she turned away, ending the discussion as she went off and disappeared into the maze of trees.

  Fighting a wave of nausea, Tamarind stifled a burp as she held on to the counter. She didn’t want to lose her delicious breakfast. She glanced over at her mother, who had remained quiet during the encounter. “This isn’t good,” Tamarind said. “Do you think it’s drugs? Opioids . . . or heroin? Or maybe she’s pregnant.” She braced herself against the counter as the deluge of horrible possibilities washed past her. “We’ve always given Ruby a lot of latitude because she earned it. But now, I feel like she’s fallen into something awful while I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “I don’t think so. This is not Ruby’s big crisis, but someone else’s. I saw it in her tea, many bad omens. Disappointment everywhere. But that was the worst of it.”

  “You read her tea? You never mentioned it.”

  “I was reading for some of the teenage girls at Thanksgiving. Ruby didn’t participate, but I took a look in her cup after she turned away. It worried me for her, but I didn’t see a great evil. But there were omens of disappointment, and there was a warning—the hourglass—and the cat of deceit.”

  “I hate that damned cat.”

  “Ha! That’s right. It came up in your tea when you were a teenager, too. Going to parties with your friends when you said you were at a sleepover. Like mother, like daughter.”

  “Not exactly how I remember it, but that’s not Ruby. She’s a straight shooter. Has she fallen in with some bad kids?” Tamarind wanted to kick herse
lf for not paying closer attention to her daughter. “I’ve been too self-absorbed to keep an eye on her.”

  “You have to take time to heal. I’ve kept my eyes on her. On both girls. I don’t know what’s going on with Ruby. We’re not getting the full picture. We’re not meant to see everything. Not yet.”

  “I can’t stand by and not do anything. What can I do?”

  “You watch and wait. She’s handling it. Didn’t you listen to her?”

  “What sixteen-year-old knows how to handle a difficult situation?”

  “Your daughter.” There was steel in Rima’s voice, the confidence of someone who stood on solid ground. “Your Ruby. Because you taught her well.”

  CHAPTER 39

  All through her Monday classes Ruby dreaded driving her mother to chemo that afternoon, knowing that Mom would prod her for more information during the awkward ride.

  “Tell her you don’t feel well,” Delilah suggested when they met in the control booth at lunchtime.

  “But there’s no one else to drive her,” Ruby said, “not at the last minute.”

  “What about an Uber?”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Maxi flicked the air toward Delilah. “She can’t let her mom take an Uber to chemo.”

  “Thank you,” Ruby told Maxi, who understood Ruby’s dilemma but couldn’t think of a way out. Because there was no way out.

  “I’m sorry my mom called your mom.” Feet propped up on the sound board, Delilah was eating cafeteria mac and cheese, one of her favorite lunches. “She doesn’t usually butt in that way.”

  “She was concerned,” Maxi said, “and her radar is on track. I mean, you drove to East Portland in the middle of the night and found a shit show when you got there. I’m kind of freaked for you. What do you think happened to Glory?”

  “I know she went out the window. I don’t know why or how.” Her friends knew the story from start to finish; to pick through the details would only highlight all the things she didn’t know: the cause of Glory’s injuries and the story of the little girl, Luna.