Her Sister's Shoes (25 page)

“She didn’t tell you, did she? Jackie handed in her
resignation.”

He leaned back in his chair, visibly relieved. “Good for her. Maybe now, she can find herself again. There’s nothing stopping her from starting
over.”

“I tried to tell her that tonight, Bill. Let’s hope she
listened.”

They finished their drinks in silence, each lost in thoughts of their own
troubles.

“How’s Jamie?” Bill asked.

“Better, I think. At least his attitude has improved. His most recent MRI shows his spinal cord has healed
, and his doctors are convinced he will walk again one day.”

“A word of caution, Sammie. Sometimes doctors are
wrong.”

Thirty

Jacqueline

J
ackie and Sean
kept vigil at Cooper’s bedside, mother on one side of the bed and brother on the other. Cooper’s left arm
was bandaged
from fingers to shoulder and held in traction to reduce swelling. His skin lacked the healthy glow of a boy who’d just spent countless hours in the sun. A bank of monitors behind his bed recorded his vitals while plastic bags dripped antibiotics and painkillers into his veins.

They hadn’t spoken a word to one another in hours, since well before midnight, since she’d apologized for the insensitive manner in which she’d broken the news about his father’s affair.

“Are you going to divorce Dad?” Sean asked, breaking the awkward silence.

“I’m not the one who had the affair,” she snapped, immediately regretting her harsh response. She no longer seemed to have control over her emotions.

“Can you please not be so angry, Mom? A lot of my friends’ parents are divorced. It’s not that big a deal. I just want you to stop being so angry.”

With tears pressing at the back of her eyes, Jackie didn’t trust herself to speak.

“You’re embarrassing yourself. You know that, don’t you?” His voice was full of blame, as though she was the one responsible for the breakup of their family.

She looked away, unable to cope with his anger on top of worrying about Cooper. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You’ve had a long day.”

Sean settled back in his chair, and after awhile, he began to snore softly. Sometime later, the night nurse came in to record Cooper’s vitals on her laptop. When she saw Sean conked out with his head bent at an unnatural angle, she carefully reclined his chair and covered him with a blanket from the closet. She removed a novel from his lap and handed it to Jackie.

As she watched the nurse’s ministrations, Jackie chastised herself for not being the one to fuss over her child. Carlotta had always been in charge of pampering the boys—fixing them hot chocolate on blustery days, placing cold washcloths over their foreheads when they were sick, wrapping them in fluffy towels after their swim in the creek.

She’d missed out on the most important part of raising her children, the cuddling, the quiet moments shared between parent and child. When the boys were little, Bill appointed himself reader-of-the-bedtime-stories. Even when he was late coming home from the hospital, the twins had waited in anticipation for this sacred half hour. Jackie had never allowed them to come into her room during the middle of the night, except on the rare occasion one of them had a bad dream. Weekend mornings were off-limits for snuggling. Mommy time. A chance for her to catch up on her beauty rest after a busy week of socializing and playing tennis and taking measurements for Mimi’s projects.

The reality of Cooper’s accident bore down on her. What if he’d hit his head a little harder or fallen at a different angle? What if he never regained consciousness? The concrete dam she’d built around her heart—created by steely determination and self-preservation—cracked and her tears began to flow. She’d never felt so utterly alone before. How could she have been so unsympathetic to her own sister? She pictured Sam at Jamie’s bedside, scared to death that he would never walk again, grieving for Cory—a boy Sam had loved as much as her own son.

During all the weeks Jamie stayed in the hospital, Jackie had stopped by only once. She convinced herself that her time was better spent doing damage control at Caroline’s, answering the door for the onslaught of people expressing their condolences over Corey’s death. As the aunt of the boy who’d caused the accident, she considered it her responsibility to keep the gossip at bay. She was too busy to make hospital visits. Yet Sam had dropped whatever she was doing in Charleston, gone to Prospect to collect Jackie’s things, then driven all the way to Charlotte to bring them to her.

And Jackie had thanked her sister by being a royal bitch.

She ran her fingers across Cooper’s forehead then down his smooth cheek, where the occasional whisker grew. She slid to the edge of her chair, leaning in close to her son’s ear. “Mommy is here with you, sweet boy. We’re going to make it through this together. I’ve made such a mess of things. I know I’ve missed out on some pretty important milestones in your life, but God willing, I’ll have plenty of time to make it up to you. I can teach you to drive, although I understand your father may be better suited for that. I will come to all your football games, home and away, and learn to cook your venison, even if it makes me gag. We will tour the country looking at colleges, and when you graduate, I will throw you the biggest party ever, complete with PJ Diddy, or whatever that rapper’s name is you like so much. I draw the line at chaperoning Beach Week, but I will take you and your friends to the Bahamas for your first college spring break. Think of all the good times ahead. This is just a bump in the road.” She kissed her fingertips, then touched his lips. “Fight your way back to me, Cooper. Give me a chance to show you how much I love you.”

Jackie sat back in her chair and studied the cover of the book the nurse had given her.
The Old Man and the Sea
. Hemingway, of course. Required reading to prepare her boys for their American lit class in the fall—and a perfect choice for the twins who loved the ocean so much. Cooper, the more studious of the two, often read aloud to his brother at night before they went to sleep. He’d probably been hounding Sean to finish his summer reading while at camp.

She thumbed through the book until she found the dog-eared page, and began reading out loud to Cooper, soon finding herself immersed in Hemingway’s simple, beautiful words.

As the first rays of sunshine streamed through the blinds, Jackie leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and tried to remember a time when she was truly happy. Long ago, before everything went wrong.

Four years out of college, she’d been working for a well-known decorator in Charleston when the splashy New York firm offered her a job. She’d been hesitant to accept. Not because she doubted her talents as a decorator—she received frequent compliments on her impeccable tastes–but because she couldn’t imagine herself, a born-and-bred Southerner, fitting in with New York’s society. So when Bill asked her to marry him, she opted to play it safe as the wife of a small-town doctor. In the process, she’d left a piece of herself on the table.

She tried to imagine her life if she’d broken up with Bill and moved to New York. She wouldn’t be getting divorced, or have a group of backstabbing bitches for friends. But she wouldn’t have her boys either. She’d taken them for granted, but as she watched them now, one sleeping peacefully and one in a coma, she realized they were the true loves of her life.

Sean blinked his eyes opened, then raised his chair to the sitting position, suddenly awake and alert. “Is he—”

Jackie shook her head. “Nothing has changed since you’ve been asleep.”

“Mom, about last night …”

Jackie reached across Cooper’s feet for Sean’s hand. “You had every right to say those things to me. You helped me put things in perspective. For that, I am grateful. And I’m sorry.”

Thirty-One

Faith

F
ait
h was relieved
to see her sister return from Charlotte. As the numbers person, Faith knew all about bank deposits and payroll, but understood little about the operation side of the seafood market. Sam had
left h
er without any instructions, and not knowing how long her sister would be gone, Faith had stayed up late making plans for the weekend ahead. Saturdays were always their busiest day, but
the Saturday coming up would be one of the busiest.

Most beach properties rented weekly from Saturday to Saturday. With the nation’s birthday falling on a Saturday this year, and still over a week away, renters were faced with vacationing either the seven days prior to the holiday or the week following. Those who could afford it, of course, would stay for both. Faith and Sam had no way of knowing whether the same amount of business would be spread out over two weeks or whether the unique situation would allow more people the opportunity to enjoy a Fourth of July at the beach, which meant more money in the till at Sweeney’s.

Sam watched over Jamie’s shoulder as he sliced into a sushi roll. “How’d you learn to do that so quickly?”

“It’s really not that hard, once you experiment a little.” He smiled up at his aunt. “Faith and I decided this weekend would be a good time to test the market.”

“And I know just the spot to showcase them,” Sam said. “In the refrigerator case on the side where we keep the
salads.”

Faith cast a nervous glance toward Jamie. “We were thinking front and center by the checkout counter might draw the most attention.”

“That would probably work. Let’s go have a look.” Sam draped her arm around Faith’s shoulders and guided her to the showroom.

“Hey, boss,” Roberto called out to Sam. “Don’t forget my cousin’s wedding is this
weekend.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Sam said, over her shoulder. “But thanks for reminding
me.”

“He never mentioned that to me,” Faith said. “How can we possibly do without him on a busy weekend like this?”

“Roberto has it all figured out,” Sam said. “He’s stocking up today and tomorrow, then he plans to come in early on Monday to replenish anything we sell out of over the
weekend.”

When Lovie caught sight of Sam, she rushed over to her, leaving a customer waiting at the cash register for her credit card receipt. “How is Sean? I’ve been so worried. Why haven’t you
called?”

Sam shot Faith a death stare. “Let’s give this lady her receipt first, Mom, then I’ll tell you about Cooper.” Sam tore the white slip of paper from the credit card machine and handed it to the customer.

“Why did you tell her?” Sam mouthed to Faith, over her mother’s head, once the customer was
gone.

Faith shrugged. She didn’t think Sam could’ve done a better job placating their mother in her current, seemingly constant, state of confusion. When Jamie and Eli returned from Charleston with two cases of wine but no Sam, Lovie had harassed Faith about her sister’s whereabouts until she finally told her mother about Cooper’s accident. Lovie had pestered Faith nonstop ever since about Sam’s whereabouts and her grandson’s condition, although she couldn’t keep straight which twin had been hurt.

Faith winked at Sam. “I told Mama that Cooper had fallen and that he was in good hands with the doctors in Charlotte.” She’d left out the part about his
surgery.

“Just tell me, Sam, how is he?” Lovie said. “I can handle it if it’s bad news. He’s my grandson. I have a right to know.”

Sam let out a deep breath and slumped back against the counter. “Cooper fell while he and Sean were hiking. He hit his head and he also broke several bones in his left arm. They repaired the damage to his arm yesterday evening. He’s unconscious, but his vitals are strong, and the doctors expect him to wake up any minute.”

“Poor Jackie. She must be scared to death. I need to call her.” Lovie removed her cell phone from her apron pocket, but Faith grabbed it before she could make the
call.

“Let’s not bother Jackie right now, Mama,” Faith said. “She will call us as soon as she knows
anything.”

Lovie rubbed the rusty key between her fingers. “Sean is lying in that hospital bed in a coma. My daughter needs
me.”

“It’s Cooper, Mom, not Sean,” Sam said. “Sean is at the hospital with Jackie and Bill. They have each other. They don’t need us calling every five minutes for
updates.”

“I know you’re worried,” Faith said, rubbing her mother’s back. “We all are. But we can keep our minds off of things in Charlotte by getting ready for our busy weekend
here.”

Sam walked her mother to the kitchen. “Why don’t you bring some of Jamie’s sushi up front.”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Faith said when Lovie was out of earshot. “I didn’t know what to tell her. She is relentless with the
questions.”

“Tell me about it. Her incessant badgering chisels away at your nerves like a
jackhammer.”

Just for kicks, Faith and Sam kept track of the number of times Lovie asked about her grandson’s condition by making tick marks on a notepad beside the cash register. By three o’clock she’d reached twenty. By closing time, the number had exceeded fifty. No matter how many times her daughters explained the situation, L
ovie couldn’t keep the details straight about which twin had been injured and why he was in the hospital in Charlotte. Her mother kept trying to call Jackie until Faith had finally taken away her cell phone.

“Mama, I’m going to give you back your phone,” Faith said as they were locking up that evening. “But only if you promise me you won’t call
Jackie.”

“But I need to know how Sean is,” Lovie
said.

“It’s Cooper, Lovie, and he’s the same as he was this morning.” Jamie flashed his phone at his grandmother. “I just got a text from Sean. I promise I’ll let you know if anything
changes.”

“All right then. I guess I’ll go on home.” Lovie wandered off, stopping at two different cars before she found her sedan.

“She’s too upset to drive,” Sam said to Faith. “I’ll take her home. I have an errand to run out that way, anyway.”

Faith watched as Sam loaded Lovie into her Wrangler. Their mother’s mental state had become increasingly unpredictable. Lovie got along fine, as long as her day went according to her routine. When things happened out of the ordinary, her mind would go haywire.

Maybe Jackie was right. Maybe they needed to find a safe place for their mother to live. If only they could find somewhere closer than
Charleston.

Once back at Sam’s with Jamie and Bitsy, Faith had one hand on the doorknob and the other in her bag searching for her key when she realized Sam’s backdoor was already unlocked. She was sure she’d locked up when she left that morning.

She cracked the door and peeked inside. The sight before her raised goose pimples all over her body. Someone had ransacked the kitchen, and Faith felt certain that it was her husband. Curtis had dumped the contents of the drawers on the floor, and smashed Sam’s Italian ceramic canisters to smithereens on the counter, coating every surface with flour and sugar.

Faith heard a noise that sounded like glass breaking coming from inside the house. She reached in her bag for her cell phone and handed it to Jamie. “Call 911. There’s someone in your house.” She picked up Bitsy, deposited her on Jamie’s lap, and wheeled them down the ramp and around the side of the house. She ducked down beside the truck and wrapped her arms around the children, while Jamie whispered to the 911 operator.

Less than two minutes later, a patrol car whipped into the driveway and another one screeched to a halt on the curb in front. Using the cruiser in the driveway as protection, Eli and his partner snuck up to the front porch while the other two policemen ran around to the back of the house. Faith counted the seconds, then the minutes, until Eli appeared on the porch, reporting that everything was
clear.

“I’m sure he was in there,” Faith said. “I heard a crashing
sound.”

Eli pulled Faith to the rear of the truck, away from the kids, so as not to upset a visibly traumatized Bitsy. “He was here at some point. He nearly destroyed the place. But there is no sign of him
now.”

The tension drained from Faith’s body.

“Where’s Sam?” Eli
asked.

“She took Mom home from work, and then had to run an errand. She should be here any
minute.”

Eli removed his cell phone from his belt clip. “Maybe we should call her.”

He was scrolling for the number when Sam’s Wrangler came flying up the driveway. She left the driver’s door open in her rush to get to Jamie. She slid to her knees beside his wheelchair. “Are you hurt?” She patted his body—his head, his chest, his arms—searching for injuries. Satisfied he wasn’t hurt, she turned to Bitsy. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Relax, Mom,” Jamie said. “We’re fine. Unfortunately, our house lost the battle with
Curtis.”

Sam slowly rose to her feet. “Is it
bad?”

“Yes,” Eli said. “I’m not gonna lie to
you.”

“I guess we’d better go in and see.” Sam returned to her Jeep for her purse and a brown paper bag, which Faith assumed was the result of the errand Sam said she needed to run.

Eli placed a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “I don’t think the two of you should go inside just yet. Can you take Bitsy around to the backyard?”

“Let’s go back to the swing,” he whispered to his little cousin, kissing her head before wheeling off toward the backyard.

Faith followed Eli and Sam around to the back of the house. Sam paused in the doorway as she surveyed the mess in the kitchen. “How the hell did this happen, Eli?” She dropped her purse and the brown paper bag on the island. “I thought the police were watching the
house.”

Eli hunched his shoulders in an apologetic shrug. “We’ve been conducting drive-bys every hour since he got out of jail on Monday. But we don’t have the manpower to provide round-the-clock
surveillance.”

“Look at this mess,” Sam said, her arms spread wide. “My house is ruined. I’ll never get rid of that smell. What is that smell by the
way?”

All eyes traveled to the trash littering the floor. Faith had forgotten to take the garbage out on the way to work this morning. She attributed the rancid smell to a spoiled chicken package from last night’s
dinner.

With Eli and Faith by her side, Sam moved on to the sitting room. Curtis had knifed the upholstery on the sofa and club chairs and smashed the glass in the frames of the family photos scattered about. Using Jamie’s baseball bat, he’d shattered the screens on the flat-screen television as well as the desktop computer. And he’d written graffiti on the walls in what appeared to be ketchup and mustard—
bitch
and
slut
, respectively.

“We should take pictures.” Eli held out his iPhone to use as a camera. “If you have homeowner’s insurance, they will replace your valuables and pay to have the house professionally
cleaned.”

“What’s valuable to me, Eli, are things like Jamie’s artwork.” Sam pointed to the ruined watercolor above the mantel. “He painted that in art class his freshman year. That’s a scene from his favorite spot on the inlet. Those things cannot be
replaced.”

Faith hung her head in shame. She’d warned her sister this might happen, but that didn’t make her feel any less
guilty.