Chapter 160

#Chapter 160 – Sisters “What,” I say, my mouth hanging open as I stare between these two women – both incredibly important people in my life, but people I thought lived in completely separate worlds. “How the hell –“

“Come in,” Emma says, getting to her feet. “Let’s close the door,” she murmurs, peering outside to see if anyone has seen them.

Ian and I obligingly coming into the room, Delia closing the door after us.

“Hi Delia! Hi Auntie!” Ian says, smiling at them. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“Yes,” I say, starting to get over my shock and feeling a little angry. “Would anyone like to explain this amazing coincidence?”

Delia sits down on the other bed and pats the comforter. “Come sit down, both of you,” she says, giving me an apologetic smile. “We have a lot to catch you up on.”

I do sit down next to Delia, angling myself so that I can look between her and my sister. Ian goes over to Emma, his hands wrapped around the straps of his backpack. “Can I sit with you?” he asks, beaming up at her.

“Of course,” she says, smiling at him. “Make yourself comfortable, baby.”

He does as he’s told, climbing up onto her bed and unzipping his backpack to take out some toy trucks.

I watch him, knowing that he’ll pretend to play but that really he’ll be listening the whole time. I don’t begrudge him the knowledge, though – after all, he’s my co-conspirator now.

Seeing that my son is comfortable, I turn to stare at Delia – my best friend, whom I shared all of my secrets with in graduate school –

“How do you two know each other?” I ask, directing the question to her. In some ways, she has become closer to me than my sister in the past few years – closer than my own flesh and blood.

Delia shrugs and then says, quite simply, “I’ve known Emma since we were twelve. We went to tennis camp together every summer.”

“What?!” My face must be ashen with shock.

I don’t know what I had expected – maybe that they’d met each other in the past few months or years?

Maybe connected through knowledge of me, or of Victor’s scandal –

But never, in a million years, would I have expected to hear that Delia’s relationship with Emma predated our own.

“You spent all your summers at archery camp,” Emma said quietly. “It was the only part of our lives when we were really separate. It was nice to have a friend who was all my own.”

I look between them, still shocked. “Then how…”

“Once you were…gone,” Emma says, picking up the story. “And I had married Joyce…Evelyn, I missed you, I missed you so much – but I knew that what I had done was unforgivable. Even though I knew that, I also knew that I couldn’t just have no idea where you were. So, I hired a private investigator to find you.”

I shake my head at her, listening. I had been so careful, worked so hard to be untraceable. But Emma –

despite all odds – had found me. Perhaps I had underestimated her a little bit.

“He found you,” Emma continues, “almost a year later. With those little boys, working so hard to get into school…”

“That’s where I come in,” Delia says, taking over. “When she found out you were going to a psych program, she remembered me saying, as a kid, that that was my dream job. Emma got back in touch with me – offered to pay my tuition, my room and board, and a small salary. The only caveat was that I had to agree to…keep an eye on you.”

“An eye on me,” I say, narrowing mine at her. “And report back to her, everything you saw.”

I snap my head back to Emma, seeking confirmation. On the bed, Ian slowly moves his trucks back and forth, pretending to play.

“Yes,” Emma says, keeping her face open, not willing to lie or prevaricate. “Delia told me what she saw.

But honestly, Evelyn – it was just for peace of mind, to know you were okay, and I never told a soul anything what I knew. Not even mom, and certainly not our dad.” Emma can’t help the scowl that crosses her face when she mentions him.

“I promise,” Delia says, leaning forward to take my hand. “I was hired to keep an eye on you, and yes, I took the money and sent the reports – but Evelyn -” She shakes her head, holding my eye contact, willing me to believe her. “I promise you, everything about our friendship was real. She just paid me to keep an eye on you. I could have done that from a distance. I became your friend because I liked you.”

“A very convenient friendship,” I murmur, unhappy about this turn of events. It felt, in so many ways, like even my best friendship was a lie.

Not exactly news I needed on today, of all days.

“It’s true,” Emma says, beginning to wring her hands. “I wasn’t really surprised when you and Delia clicked – a little jealous, of course.” She pauses for a moment. “I would have given…anything. To be out of my house. Living that life with the two of you, pursuing your goals, working for something. With those two little boys.” She glances down at Ian and I see the longing in her eyes.

It goes to my heart. Deep down, I’ve long been aware that I got the better end of the deal, even if my life had had its trials. And here was Emma, who for six years has been reading reports about how I had turned my life around and was living with freedoms she could only dream of.

“And you never did anything,” I say, looking between them. “Just…kept tabs?”

“I promise,” Emma says, putting a hand to her heart. “It was just for my own peace of mind. No one ever knew, and I never interfered. Even when I wanted to send money, Delia wouldn’t let me. She said you were going to make it on your own.” Her eyes shine with a little pride, then. “And you did.”

I take a minute, considering, and then I give in. “Okay,” I say, looking both of them in the face for a minute. “I’m not happy about it,” I give them each a little glare, “but I think…I understand. If I had had the opportunity, I probably would have done the same.”

“Thank you, Evelyn,” Delia says, giving my hand a little squeeze. “For believing us. It was a lie but…

beyond that big glaring fact, it was innocent. An act of sisterly love.”

“You owe me though,” I say to both of them seriously, crossing my arms over my chest. “For years of that innocent lying.”

Emma nods fervently. “Anything, Evelyn,” she says, hand still on her chest.

I smile then, a little slyly, and pull my feet up on the bed, getting comfortable. “Good!” I say, grinning at them. “I’m cashing in now, then. You have to take me and Ian in for a couple of days. While we figure out our next move.”

“Yes, what are you two doing here?” Delia says, frowning at me. She accepts without my complaint the idea that we will be staying.

My smile drops from my face a little bit. “It’s kind of a long story,” I say, grimacing. Then, I glance pointedly at Ian, letting them know that I’d rather discuss it later. Emma nods, understanding.

“Sounds like the kind of story that we’re going to need some wine for!” Delia says, jumping up and grabbing her keys off the table. “I’ll get some takeout on the way in too. Any requests?”

Emma and I both shrug, leaving it up to Delia, and she skips out of the room, off on her errand of sustenance.

Left alone with Emma, Ian and I are very quiet. He, of course, is still spying, but I don’t really know what to say to her. I haven’t been alone with my sister in years.

I look around the little motel room, frowning a bit. It’s nice, of course – and I’m certainly not one to judge, having lived in some really crappy apartments for a long time – but Emma is a rich woman. I can’t fathom why, if she’s on vacation with her friend, they wouldn’t stay somewhere a bit ritzier than this.

“What are you guys even doing here, anyway?” I ask, continuing to look around the room.

“Um,” Emma says, following my gaze everywhere it lands, a little unwilling to look at me. She just shrugs. “We’re just…on vacation.”

I frown at her. “You and Delia go on vacation together?”

At this, she blushes. Just a little blush, a faint rosiness on the bones of her cheeks.

Oh.

Oh.

My eyes go wide with the realization as my sister toys distractedly with the bedspread.

Luckily, Ian saves us, as he so often does.

“Mom, can we go to the beach?” he asks, looking up at me with a smile. “I want to see if I can make a seagull trap.”

I shake my head at him. “No baby, it’s getting late. Why do you want to trap a seagull, anyway?”

He gives me a little glare. “It’s personal, mom.” He says nothing else and just turns onto his back, rolling his toy truck over his belly.

Emma and I laugh at him, the awkwardness broken.

“Do you want some snacks?” I ask her, picking up and shaking my bag of goodies. “We’ve got everything.”

As Emma starts to sort through them with Ian’s help, I watch my son for a moment. I always assumed his convenient little interruptions came serendipitously. But now, watching him, I wonder…perhaps I’ve underestimated him too.