Claire at Sixteen (20 page)

“It's worth the price,” Claire said.

“You're probably right,” Nick said. “But it's my soul, and I'd grown almost fond of it.” He turned the key in the ignition, and started the car again. “Don't tell Thea about my father, all right?” he asked. “Rub her nose in this business about Scotty if you must, but leave the rest out of it.”

“Sure,” Claire said,. She could give him that much. Besides, it might prove useful having something to hold over him.

Nick pulled the car onto the highway. Claire could see he was driving faster now, and he almost immediately passed another car. She looked out the window, and saw a shopping mall just closing for the night, the cars emptying out of its lot, the lights in the stores being turned off. “You should have loved me the best,” she said. “I'm the one who's most like you.”

“But it was Daisy I loved,” Nick said, cutting ahead of a car in the left-hand lane. “I could just barely tolerate myself.”

Claire nodded. She was so tired. She yearned to stretch out in the backseat, as she had as a child, and let the movement of the car lull her to sleep. But exhausted as she was, she knew she could never trust her father enough again to leave herself that defenseless in his presence. More than one line had been crossed that night; more than one soul had been sacrificed. But it was for Sybil. She would be strong now, and that was worth all the lines and all the souls and all the peace that Claire could ever offer to the gods.

Turn the page to continue reading from the Sebastian Sisters series

C
HAPTER
O
NE

“What a dump!”

“Claire! You came!”

“Of course I came, kiddo. I wouldn't miss your sixteenth birthday for anything.”

Sybil Sebastian pulled her sister Claire to her and enveloped her in a hug. She had hoped Claire and Thea would come for her birthday, but Sebastian family finances were such that nothing could be counted on, not even the plane fare from New York to Boston.

“Let me get a look at you,” Claire demanded, and she checked Sybil out carefully. “I don't believe you turned out as well as you did,” Claire said. “Sixteen. You look older.”

“I feel older,” Sybil replied.

“Thea kept weeping, all during the plane ride,” Claire said. “‘My baby sister is sixteen.' She used to be unbearable before she turned eighteen, and now, she's even worse.”

Sybil laughed. “Thea came, too?” she asked, not believing her good fortune.

“She's downstairs cleaving unto Nicky and Megs,” Claire replied. “We were on the same flight as Evvie and Sam. They dropped us off here, and went back to their apartment. They should be here in an hour or so.”

“This is going to be the best birthday I've ever had,” Sybil declared. “All of us together.”

“We were together at Christmas,” Claire pointed out. “I don't recall that as an especially fabulous time.”

“That doesn't count,” Sybil said. “We'd just moved in, and Nicky was still smarting, and you could only stay until lunchtime because you had to work the next day.”

“Us models need our beauty sleep,” Claire said, trying to look haughty, but failing miserably. “It was too good a job for me to turn down, Syb. I wanted to stay longer, but I couldn't.”

“I know that,” Sybil said. Of her three sisters, the one she was closest to, both in age and affections, was Claire. Evvie, the oldest, was generally regarded as the family anchor, but she'd left home for college when Sybil was only twelve, and for that matter, she'd left the family in some hard-to-explain way even before then, when she'd fallen in love with Sam Steinmetz Greene. Thea, who came next, always tried hard with Sybil, mostly, Sybil suspected, because she couldn't get along with Claire, but Sybil had never especially cared for the way Thea tried to baby her. Sybil was the youngest, but she never regarded herself as a baby. Claire, on the other hand, was there for Sybil in a way that no one else in the family, except their father, Nick, could approximate.

Not that Sybil looked anything like Claire or Nick. She resembled Meg, her mother, although not as strongly as Evvie and Thea did. Actually, Sybil had been disconcerted to discover from examining an old family album, that the person she looked most like was the late unlamented Aunt Grace, Meg's aunt and guardian. Aunt Grace, who had hated Nicky and disapproved of her niece's marriage to him, had never truly loved Meg's four daughters, and took pleasure in carrying the grudge beyond the grave. Stubborn, willful, obnoxious Aunt Grace, whose house Sybil now called home.

“How is life in the mausoleum?” Claire asked, glancing around Sybil's fairly empty bedroom. “Still dank and gloomy?”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” Sybil asked.

“Years of practice,” Claire said, giving Sybil another hug. “Oh, Syb, I miss you so much. Move to New York, right now. Finish high school there.”

“You have Thea,” Claire said. “You can't be lonely.”

“Thea.” Claire groaned. “I thought she was shaping up, when Kip finally dumped her. It took him long enough, but Thea eventually got the picture. I thought Kip was going to have to send out engraved engagement announcements before Thea finally acknowledged he was involved with somebody else.”

“Thea took it pretty hard,” Sybil declared. “She cried on the phone to Megs a lot. And that was when we were still in Oregon. I shudder to think what those calls must have cost.”

“Whatever the cost, Kip wasn't worth it,” Claire said. “Not that Thea would admit it. And Megs wasn't the only one to get those tear-stricken phone calls. I got more than my share, especially late at night. I don't know why Thea thinks I care that she's miserable after midnight. But now she's involved with some new loser, and at least she's cut down on the phone calls. Good thing, too. She was putting a real strain on my sisterly love.”

Sybil stared at her sister. She had a rough idea of how far Claire would take sisterly love. Sybil knew how much in debt to Claire she would always be. She also knew it was a debt Claire would never call her on.

“New York just isn't big enough for Thea and me,” Claire said, this time choosing not to read Sybil's mind. “Eight million people, and I keep bumping into her. If you'd just move in with me, you could handle Thea, listen to her endless confessions. She only plagues me because we have the same last name. You she actually loves. It would be a public service, Sybil.”

Sybil laughed. “We just moved here six months ago,” she said. “I think I should last it out a little while longer.”

“It is a dump,” Claire said, looking around. “An expensive dump, I grant you, but a dump just the same. What a hoot, Aunt Grace leaving the joint to Megs in trust, so Nicky can't get his hands on it and sell it.”

“I never liked Aunt Grace,” Sybil said.

“I did,” Claire replied. “She didn't like me because I look so much like Nicky, but I liked her. She had a wicked sense of humor. Her will proves it. Leaving Megs only the house, no furnishings, no artwork, just the house. I'm surprised the trustees didn't peel the wallpaper off. She must have known Nicky couldn't begin to afford the upkeep on a Beacon Hill mansion. They can't even sell it, because it's only in trust for Megs. And Sam and Evvie can't get it, because it's officially left to Megs's first legitimate Christian grandson. Now that's the will of a funny lady.”

“I love this house,” Sybil said. She had never said that out loud, had hardly even allowed herself to realize it. Claire was the only person she could have confided that to. “For the first time, I feel at home.”

“I feel that way about New York,” Claire said. “Funny. Nicky and Megs gave us a thousand different homes, but none of them really counted. We had to find our own places.”

“I want to stay here forever,” Sybil said.

“Then have a legitimate Christian son,” Claire said. “You have a good shot at winning the sweepstakes. Evvie and Sam are obviously disqualified, now that they're both Jewish, and I don't see myself ever getting married, so that just leaves you and Thea. Knowing Thea, she'll have girls. They'll be born wearing lace. Get married, have a boy, and then the house is yours.”

“Don't tempt me,” Sybil said. “Claire, I see myself at home here. I see myself walking down the hallways, checking polish on the furniture, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.” She paused for a moment. The truth was, she saw herself gliding, no limp, no moment of hesitation to gird herself before climbing the stairs. No canes, no crutches, no painkillers, no pain. She saw herself as healed. Aunt Grace's house did that for her. She wasn't sure why, or if it would last, or even if it was good for her, when canes and crutches and painkillers and pain were a part of her life, had been for years, would be forever, but she needed the fantasy. Maybe it had replaced Claire for her. Maybe that fantasy was the one thing Claire couldn't give her. Maybe, at moments, she loved the fantasy even more than she loved Claire.

“The stairs don't bother you?” Claire asked, and the fantasy was gone.

“Sometimes,” Sybil said. “On rainy days. My legs are always bad on rainy days. Nicky and Megs offered to make one of the downstairs rooms into a bedroom, but that wasn't how the house was supposed to be, so I said no.” She remembered one night, shortly after they moved in, when the pain had been so bad, Nicky had simply carried her upstairs. She wondered if Nicky, or more likely Megs, had told Claire about it, but decided no, it was the kind of thing that didn't get discussed in their family. A lot of painful things were kept to themselves. Sybil still didn't know what Megs felt about Aunt Grace's will, although she certainly had heard Nicky rant on the subject.

“If I could give you my legs, I would,” Claire said, staring straight into Sybil's eyes. But then she laughed. “What a birthday present that would be!”

“It might cut your modeling career short,” Sybil said. “No pun intended.”

“It'd be worth it,” Claire said. “Besides, I'm only modeling to earn lots of money, and meet fabulous rich men. It's not like I have the soul of a model. Half the models I meet are in it so people can tell them they're beautiful. I've always known that. I don't have to hear it endlessly.”

“You look a little more beautiful than you did at Christmas,” Sybil said, examining her older sister carefully. “Something's different.”

“I don't think so,” Claire said. “Of course, I can afford decent clothes again, and that helps.”

“No,” Sybil said. “It's your eyebrows.”

“You do have a good eye,” Claire said. “The agency had me reshape them. Very slight difference, but they claim it shows up nicely in pictures. Are you sure you want to go into finance? You'd probably make a great detective.”

“I've never really looked good in a trench coat,” Sybil replied, but before Claire had a chance to answer, there was a knock on the door, and Thea walked in.

“Happy birthday!” she cried, and she gave Sybil a hug. “You look wonderful. So grown up. How do you feel? It's great to see you.”

“I'm so glad you came,” Sybil said. “I was hoping you'd all come, but I didn't count on it.”

“Claire paid for my tickets,” Thea declared. “In case she didn't tell you.”

“No, she didn't,” Sybil said. “Thanks, Claire.”

“I figured we were due a reunion,” Claire said. “And really, models earn an outrageous amount of money.”

“Which is not true of premed students, even with part-time jobs,” Thea said. She sat down on the bed, took Sybil's hand, and squeezed it. “Evvie and Sam should be here soon. I guess you see them all the time now, but I think it's great, all of us together.”

“How long will you be staying?” Sybil asked. She couldn't believe how happy she was, having her sisters back, in the house
she
at least could think of as home.

“Until the middle of next week,” Thea replied. “This is my spring break, too, and I figured as long as you were on vacation, I might as well be. So I told them at my job not to expect me until Thursday. They're flexible, so it was no problem.”

“And you, Claire?” Sybil asked.

“I'll probably go back on Wednesday also,” Claire said. “I could use the time off. I've been working steadily since I hit New York.”

“It's gotten to the point where every time you open a magazine, there's a picture of Claire,” Thea said. “I can't wait for her first
Vogue
cover.”

“Thea,” Claire said sharply.

“
Vogue
cover?” Sybil asked. “Really?”

“It's a possibility,” Claire said. “Nothing definite.”

“She's bound to get one,” Thea said. “Claire's taken New York by storm.”

“Thea has a vivid imagination,” Claire said. “I'm working steady, which I grant you is pretty remarkable, but that's about it. No one in New York knows who I am yet.”