A Sister in My House by Linda Olsson

Author:Linda Olsson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2018-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

* * *

It was late afternoon, and I was sitting on the terrace. Emma had withdrawn to her room when we returned. I had no regrets. Unlike earlier instances in my life when I had told things in confidence, I didn’t dwell on what I had said. I wasn’t worried about how my words had fallen, or what impression I might have made. It struck me that I felt relieved. Perhaps it was just as Emma had said. Not a sharing of secrets at all. Perhaps I was finally expressing in words what I had dreaded confronting. I had in no way diminished it. Or distorted it. Or destroyed it. Everything I carried was still there. Clearer than ever. And I was relieved. It had been hard. But not as hard as I had thought.

We had made no plans for the evening. I wasn’t particularly hungry. But I went downstairs to check the fridge. The house was still silent, and I tried to move carefully, so as not to disturb Emma. But I hardly made it down the stairs, and she opened her door.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t slept. Just rested a little. I have discovered that I can let my body rest without sleeping. It has made a difference. I used to worry about my difficulties with sleep. For long periods I took sleeping pills. But they didn’t really help. I used to be tired all day. Now I am more rested, even if I haven’t slept that much.”

She smiled, and again I thought I saw a glimpse of the young Emma.

“There isn’t much to make a meal of here,” I said, peering into the fridge. “Shall we go out? It doesn’t need to be late or fancy. There are lots of small places nearby.”

And it was decided.

It was still rather early and not many people were out. We chose a small restaurant in town. It felt like we were both occupied by our own thoughts, and we didn’t talk much. But the silence was not at all awkward.

When we finished the main course, Emma suddenly set down her glass.

“Why are you so sure you know what other people think, Maria?”

She cocked her head and looked at me as if she was genuinely interested in my response.

I shrugged. “Am I?”

“You keep saying you do. You said you knew what Mother was thinking. During all those years when you hardly saw her at all. And you knew precious little about her life. And today you said that Pau just pities you. How do you know that?”

“I guess it’s something I just feel.”

“Is that really enough to go on, do you think? Have you never thought that you have been wrong? Heard someone describe a situation after the fact and become aware of how you have misconstrued everything? How can you always be so sure of everything? In spite of taking so little interest in other people?”

“Why do you think I have little interest in other people?”

“It’s not me thinking! It’s you saying.

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