Take Another Look (19 page)

“No need to be scared. This stuff is history, but it affects our lives today.” She reminded Harper of the difficult situation she'd been in when she was pregnant. “Your father was gone, and I had no family. My friend Marnie helped, but I was in dire financial straits.”

“I know. And then I came along,” Harper said, reciting the family lore. “The light of your life.”

“That's right. But there's a bit more to the story. When I was pregnant in Seattle, the doctor told me I was expecting twins.”

“You were?” Harper was awed. “So I had a twin? Oh, that's so sad. I always wanted a brother or sister. What happened to my twin?”

“Nothing so bad. I knew I didn't have the resources or support to take care of two babies. So I made the arrangements to give the other baby up for adoption . . . to parents who desperately wanted a baby of their own.”

“So it lived?”

“Yes. A baby girl, and her new parents, Chrissy and Nick, were so thrilled to have her, and they were very happy together. But sadly, Nick, the dad, died recently and . . .” Jane's heart thudded oddly in her chest as she turned onto their street. She felt as if she were telling someone else's tale. “Your twin sister and her mother came here to find us because they . . . they want to establish family ties.”

“Wait. My sister is here? How old is she? Oh, wait. My twin would be my age. Duh.”

It was a relief to have the truth out when they pulled into the garage. Jane cut the engine and turned to her daughter.

Harper's eyes were round as quarters and shimmering with the sparks of connection and discovery. “I can't believe you kept this a secret. A sister! So when do I get to meet her?”

“You've met her, honey. It's Isabel.”

“Isabel?” Disbelief and wonder in Harper's voice. “Isabel? Whaaaaah!” A cry of astonishment and delight. “She's my sister? Oh my God. That's why we look alike. My twin. Oh my God, I have a sister! Mom . . . I can't believe you didn't tell me.”

Jane took the keys from the ignition and settled back in the seat. It was going to be a long night.

I prefer winter . . . when you feel the bone structure of the landscape—the loneliness of it . . . Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show.

 

—Andrew Wyeth

Chapter 20

I
n the beginning, Jane held herself back. It seemed that an emotional attachment to Isabel would constitute a betrayal of Hoppy, and Jane knew that first and foremost she must remain supportive of Harper. She kept reminding herself that she had no legal commitment to this girl, that it was appropriate to remain detached and cheerful. She gave Isabel the same level of affection she showed Sydney or Emma, nothing more. On the other hand, Harper gushed over her newfound sister, thrilled to have a friend for life. To save face and privacy, they had decided to tell everyone that Isabel was a distant cousin, and no one questioned the story or cared much.

“That explains why you two look so much alike,” Sydney noted, and that seemed to close the topic.

The kids let Isabel in without question. Suddenly Harper, Isabel, and Jesse were a cohesive triad, sitting at the kitchen bar doing homework each day after school. Night after night, Harper finished her homework by dinnertime. She aced a vocabulary quiz and got her first B on a high school math test. Much as Jane loathed admitting it, Isabel and Jesse had helped Harper bring her grades up.

When basketball practice began, the girls lamented that Isabel would not be on their team.

“I wish you could play with us,” Harper kept saying. “That would be so awesome.”

Isabel claimed to be a total klutz when it came to sports. “But I'll come to every game and cheer you on,” she promised.

As mid-November brought crisp temperatures, the bond warmed between the two girls, leaving Jane to feel a bit like the odd man out.

Then the holidays approached, bringing issues without precedent. “Isabel and her mom are going to be alone for the holiday, and Chrissy is too sick to cook,” Harper reported. “Isn't that sad?”

“At least they'll have each other,” Jane said, “and I'm sure they can find a nice restaurant that serves turkey.” The Zaretskys could certainly afford to have a dinner catered; when they had adopted Louisa, they had been among the top twenty wealthiest families in the Seattle area.

“I still think it's sad,” Harper said wistfully.

“We've been on our own every Thanksgiving since you were a year old, and we've done just fine.”

“I know, but that was before we knew that we had family so close by. My
twin sister,
Mom. Why can't we all celebrate together? It'll be easier for you. Isabel is a really good cook, and I bet she'd be happy to make something. Maybe the mashed potatoes.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I'm not up for it.”

“Come on, Mama-dish.” Harper gave her a playful nudge. “You hate peeling potatoes. Here's your chance for a break.”

“I'm happy for the break from school and the chance to spend time with you,” Jane said.

“But you always tell me Thanksgiving is a time to count your blessings and pay it forward. Remember when I was little and we brought cans to the food bank?”

“I didn't think you remembered. You were so little.”

“I soaked it all up and took it to heart. And now Isabel and Chrissy need our help. I have to help my sister, Mom.”

Jane wanted to groan over that painful truth. She appreciated her daughter's altruism, but she had trouble imagining herself as part of a happy family with Chrissy and Isabel Zaretsky. Until recently, when she had visualized her future, she had seen herself doing a figure-eight in alternating revolutions around Harper and Luke. Now, when she looked ahead, the picture was muzzy.

In the end, Jane succumbed to Harper's burst of goodwill and invited Isabel and her mother over for Thanksgiving dinner. How could she deny her otherwise self-absorbed teen this act of philanthropy?

“Thank you for having us,” Chrissy said as she slowly made her way into the living room. Her hair shone with ebony color, and the blush on her cheeks hinted at a resurgence of health. The fact that she was walking on her own showed a marked improvement, but Jane erred on the side of caution and held Phoenix's collar. One brisk leap and she could take the woman down.

“Aren't you a nice dog?” Chrissy said as she gingerly lowered herself to the sofa.

“She is a gentle dog, and she sure seems to like you,” Jane said, releasing the dog with a warning to behave. The lab trotted briskly over to the older woman and pressed into her legs.

“Oh, yes, yes. Need someone to love you up?” Chrissy leaned down and roughed Phoenix's scruff, giving her a brisk rubbing. In her glory, Phoenix gave a tender whimper of response.

Traitor,
Jane thought, though she was not surprised that the dog liked Chrissy. The lab was a good judge of character. Yes, Chrissy had a soft heart and a firm backbone. Years ago Jane had chosen her because she was solid.

The women talked as the girls toted covered dishes in from the car. Savory whiffs of stuffing with apples and sausage, creamed onions, and mashed red potatoes were added to the mouthwatering smell of roasted turkey that suffused the house. Jane offered wine, but Chrissy declined.

“It's been a good week, and I don't want to ruin it by slipping up,” Chrissy explained.

“You look great,” Jane encouraged her. “The roses are back in your cheeks.”

“I don't know about that,” Chrissy demurred, “but it's a blessing to get through a few days without those nasty spells.” When Jane asked about her symptoms, Chrissy explained that she was often sick with sweating, vomiting, confusion, and intestinal issues. Tingling sensations on her skin gave way to numbness, and her heartbeat quickened and became irregular.

Jane nodded sympathetically. “And the doctors can't give you a diagnosis?”

“I've given up on them, but I'm planning a trip to Seattle to see an acupuncturist who did wonders when I visited my sister last time.”

Isabel placed a basket of rolls on the table and came to perch on the rolled arm of the sofa. She looked adorable in her tights, short pleated skirt, and pink V-neck sweater. Years ago Jane would have given anything to get Harper into an outfit that refined; now Jane was resigned to the fact that “dressed up” meant jeans without holes and a shirt without a sports decal on it. “It looks like dinner is served. Are you moms ready?”

“I'm starving,” Jane declared. She popped the cap on a bottle of sparkling cider and poured four goblets.

As they sat down together Isabel raised a glass to make a toast. “Thanks for having us. I'm grateful for that.” Sincerity glimmered in her blue eyes. “And I'm so happy we can all be here together. Family is everything.”

“Hear, hear,” Chrissy agreed.

Harper got out of her seat so that she could touch glasses with everyone. “Cheers, family.”

Jane let herself smile as the crystal clinked. This odd matriarchy no longer seemed unsettling; they were survivors, the four of them. Strong women. It was time to let go of her anger toward Chrissy; she now realized the woman had come here out of desperation. Was she dying? Jane hoped not. But it was beyond her control.

“Mom, do I like creamed onions?” Harper asked, staring into one of the pots Isabel had brought.

“I'm not sure that you've ever had them, but give them a try. They're delicious.”

Isabel beamed with pride as her pale fingers smoothed the tablecloth. “I'm glad you like them.” The adulation in her gaze melted the protective shell from Jane's heart. This kid really aimed to please; it was cruel to keep shutting her out.

After dinner Harper invited Isabel up to her room, but Isabel suggested that they clean up first.

“You can go, Isabel,” Chrissy said. “I'll help Jane with the dishes.”

“But more hands make the work go faster,” Isabel insisted, tying on an apron. “I'm happy to help.” She went to the sink and started scrubbing a baking dish.

Jane looked up from the dishwasher to see Harper standing with her fingertips in her jeans pockets, her dark hair falling over one eye.

“What do you want me to do, Mom?”

Harper offering to help in the kitchen? It was a first. Jane nodded toward the drawer. “Why don't you grab a fresh towel and dry the pots and pans.”

Later, when the two girls were upstairs, Chrissy folded a kitchen towel, a sage light in her eyes. “I was always skeptical about the so-called bond between twins, but there's definitely something special there.”

Jane glanced away from Chrissy, not wanting to tell the woman that was just wishful thinking on her part. Despite her research about the special relationship that twins developed in utero, Jane had not noticed an extrasensory connection between Harper and Isabel. No mental telepathy or sympathetic pains. “They do seem to enjoy each other,” Jane admitted, “and Isabel has been a positive influence on Harper. Her grades are improving. And I have to tell you that Isabel has always been a model of good behavior around us. You raised her well. Though I'm sure she has her moments around you.”

Chrissy pulled her cardigan closer and folded her arms. “Moments?”

“Complaints and tantrums. Sulking and defiance. Most teens tend to vent on their parents.”

“Not Isabel.”

“Really? She doesn't have a bad day now and then? A case of the blues? Annoyance with a teacher or fury over a social injustice?”

“I've never seen it. She sails on an even keel.”

“What about when Nick died?”

“She was sad, but she didn't seem to experience the anger and denial I felt. Or maybe her denial was expressed in the desire to come here and get away from the life we had in Seattle with Nick. Starting over.”

“That would make sense. Our hearts and minds heal in different ways.” The image of Isabel grasping for a new family life tugged at Jane's heart. The girl had spunk. Jane was reminded of her brief time with Isabel after the birth—her Louisa. Even as an infant, that calm, sure demeanor had been present. Jane had made the right choice to give her up; she could not imagine Harper's surviving the sorrows in the Zaretsky family.

“Isabel is my rock. I'm the one with the worries. This illness had brought me down, and I worry that I've pulled her down with me. But that's changing. Now that she has things to do, so many activities with your Harper, I've hired an aide to come in and help out. A teenage girl shouldn't have to spend every evening cooking and caring for her mother. This is a good thing, to give a young girl some freedom to be with friends and with her sister.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” Jane agreed. “And Isabel seems to be enjoying her newfound freedom. The other kids have really taken to her.”

“And she's all about Harper. Now that they are together, we will never get them apart,” Chrissy said. “I'm not a religious person, but it reminds me of that phrase in the Bible. ‘What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.'”

Chrissy was right; those two were a match made in heaven.
And I'm the one who tore them apart.

 

That night Harper bamboozled Jane into allowing Isabel to sleep over. It certainly wasn't the first pajama party for the girls, but the holiday gave it a special significance that disturbed Jane. Missing Luke, she retired to the solitude of her room. She put a call through, but when he didn't answer she suspected that he was still at dinner or not getting reception at his hotel. He had driven to Spokane to have dinner with his ex-wife Val, their son Matt, and Val's new husband Hans, who was CEO of a huge sportswear company. Holidays with the ex. It sounded like the setup for a dysfunctional Thanksgiving comedy film, but with Luke as the guest of honor, Jane could envision things going smoothly. Vindictive was not something Luke carried in his toolbox. Jane had seen photos of Luke arm-in-arm with Hans at Val and Hans's wedding, both men grinning so brightly they could have been in toothpaste ads.

Ah, Luke, never again. She vowed that they would spend Christmas together this year. So what if people began to guess that they were involved? The community's lackluster reaction to the revelation that Isabel was a relation had taught Jane a few things. Most people were too caught up in their own lives to notice the ripples in someone else's pond. Some people didn't care that a few rules had been bent, and others celebrated the act of defiance. She was going to have a talk with Mr. Bandini about bringing their relationship out of hiding.

“Hey, Mom.” Harper and Isabel stood at the bedroom door. Like a couple in a sitcom, Harper wore flannel pajama bottoms with a sweatshirt on top, while Isabel wore the button-down top as a nightgown. “We thought we'd come keep you company,” Harper said, plopping onto Jane's bed.

“Your room is so peaceful.” Isabel touched the sheers that swept over the tall windows. “Like a sheltered sea cove. I love the color of the walls. Is that sea foam?”

“I believe it was called Serenity Sea,” Jane said, allowing a smile.

“It's perfect,” Isabel said, sitting on the bed beside Harper. “Just like you.”

“I'm far from perfect,” Jane said, though she didn't mind the bit of praise. In fact, she found herself soaking up the wonder in Isabel's eyes. The sheer admiration made her heart race at times. She tried not to compare, but there was no ignoring the fact that she rarely saw anything like that in Harper's eyes. A tough cookie, her Hoppy. The girl, who was currently bent over her right foot, flicking off flakes of nail polish, was often hard on the people around her, and she definitely had a temper. Jane fell into thoughts of the unsettling question of the attack on Olivia, a mud pit of reverie. The culprit was still a mystery to the police, but sometimes when Harper lost her temper, it was easy to imagine her swinging that bat and pushing Olivia into the lake.