The Never Never Sisters by L. Alison Heller

Author:L. Alison Heller
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2014-05-21T16:00:00+00:00

chapter twenty-five

Vanessa

LUCKILY, CHERIE AND Darren had gotten to the restaurant first. I made Frankie slip his credit card to the maître d’ to avoid any future awkwardness—the last time the Weavers had insisted on a whole long discussion about the bill: who drank what and who didn’t get an appetizer and who’d tasted a tiny sliver of someone else’s meat dish. We needed three calculators and an abacus to get out of there.

Pride is so silly. If I had known someone rich during the many, many years I was “financially challenged,” as Frankie called it, I would have let them pay for everything.

“Listen.” I put my hand on Cherie’s arm. “Pretend we’re taking you out for your birthday.”

“My birthday is in November.”

“I know it is. To avoid a scene. About the bill. Like last time.”

“Oh!” She dipped her head, playing bashful. “Well, thank you very much.”

“Many happy returns.” I smiled.

“What time do we have to leave for the play?” Darren chewed an ice cube.

“No idea.” Frankie grabbed his water glass with his full hand and gulped. What was it with those two? As if we’d arrived from the desert instead of a town car.

“We have plenty of time to eat,” Cherie said. “What’s the issue?”

“The play is always at eight,” I said. “Every Saturday night performance we’ve ever gone to, the play is at eight. How does this not sink in?”

“It’s not about having time to eat,” Darren explained. “I’m trying to figure out if it will have cooled down when we have to go outside.”

“No,” I said. “It won’t have cooled down. It will be miserable. Anyway,” I said, directing this to Cherie, “guess where they are.”

“Who’s where?” Darren said.

“Where?” Cherie talked over him.

“Acupuncture. Together. On a Saturday night.”

“That’s great!”

“Great? That’s weird,” Darren said. “Who goes to acupuncture on a Saturday night?”

“Bonding sisters,” Frankie said.

“Oh—Paigey T. and Sloane?” Darren nodded, supportive. “That is great.”

“They’re spending a lot of time together.”

“Wonderful,” said Cherie. “But just you wait. It will start to hurt your feelings at some point—how little they want to be with you.”

“Aw.” Darren reached across the table and rubbed her shoulder. “Poor mom.”

“I’m sure.” I sipped my sparkling water. It would never hurt my feelings to be left out. Like I said, pride is silly. Plus, this was my victory, and it had been so easy to bring them together.

If I’m being honest, being Sloane’s mother has somewhat exhausted me. Just the mental hoops I’ve jumped through, the constant uncertainty: Do I give her space? Do I fly across the country in an attempt to track her down? Where does my life end and hers begin? The answers are never as clear as they seem in self-help books.

Therapists love to tell you that you’re not responsible for everything. This is crap; there is no overestimating the importance of how a parent’s behavior affects a child.

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