No Perfect Hero(92)

As soon as I say it, we both go quiet. But she’s the one to say what we’re both thinking, a tentative, “Um, have we ever said that to each other before? That we love each other.”

“Probably not for a long time.” My smile widens even as I sniffle and wipe at my cheeks. “But I always knew. We’re sisters. And you and John will work things out. You didn’t use him. You just had work to do to figure yourselves out.”

“And when did you get so smart about that?”

“When I fell out of my box and landed somewhere I never expected, I guess.” My voice cracks, but I rein it in. “You’re going to be okay. But I hope you know I’m going to give you shit every time I catch you looking at cute girls.”

“Oh, God.” I’ve never heard Marie sound so uncertain of herself before, but it’s sweet. “That’s...I’ve tried so much not to look, but I mean, just saying it out loud...now it’s like I can’t stop.”

“It’s new. That’s going to be a bit shaky. But if it’s who you are, be happy. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she says slowly, as if the words taste unfamiliar. “I wish I’d told you sooner. I’ve wanted to talk to you about it since high school.” She lets out a dry, wistful laugh. “I had a crush on your idiot friend, Britney, before she went off in that dressing room with your ex...”

I snort. “You dodged a bullet there.”

“Guess I did.” She hesitates, then asks, “How are you? After Eddy, I never got a chance to ask. And we don't talk enough.”

“I know. It’s okay,” I promise. “I’m okay. Doing better. It feels good to just wander without being lost for a while. No expectations.” I tuck my hair back. “Losing Eddy and starting over may have been a blessing in disguise.”

“You mean you're happy? Stranded out there in some nowhere town?”

“Yeah. Plenty to paint, fresh air, sweet mountains, good food...” I bite my lip. “Good sex...”

“Haley!” she gasps, but she’s laughing. “Don’t tell me you’re shacking up with some farm boy?”

“I wouldn’t call him a farm boy, exactly, but he’s definitely down-home good.” My smile fades. “But he’s in some trouble with the locals, and he told me I should send Tara home and stay away for a few days.”

“Have you gotten yourself into something? Do you need help?”

“No. No, it’s not like that.” I shake my head. “I don’t think it’s really going to turn into anything. And I love having Tara here. If you need more time to figure out how to have that conversation with her...” I look over my shoulder at Tara, watching through the glass door as she races around. “We’ll just keep enjoying our little vacay together.”

“If you could, for just a little longer, I'd appreciate it.” It’s not hard to tell Marie’s not used to asking for things. It’s always been hard for both of us, but it makes my chest hurt in the best way that she’s willing to ask me. To trust me. “That’s going to be a tough talk. John and I need to work together to figure out the right way to have it and what’ll be best for Tara in the end. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies. I love that little kit, and love having her around.”

“Even when she calls you Auntie Hay?”

I smirk. “I love her a smidge less then.”

“Idiot.” She falters again, then asks more softly, “Hey, um, Haley?”

She stops. But I don’t need her to say it. I know, and it’s okay.

“I know, Marie,” I murmur. “Can we try to talk like this more?”

There's a pause.

“Yeah,” she says, relief audible in her voice. “I’d like that. A lot.”

“Me too.” This time, though, as Tara goes racing past, I open the door and lightly snag her arm, slowing her with a gentle tug. “Hey. Say hi to your kid,” I say, offering my niece the phone.

Her eyes go wide, and if I was ever worried about how Tara was being treated at home, that worry vanishes when I see the clear joy in her face at the merest prospect of talking to her mother. No matter how our home life messed us up, made us weird about family, my sister loves her daughter enough that it doesn’t matter, because she makes Tara so happy and is so good to her.

If Marie can do that, can start a family, no matter what missteps she took, and both give and receive that kind of love...maybe someday I can, too.

It’s a breathless thought. I’m smiling uncontrollably as I hand the phone over.

“Mom?” Tara gasps into it, then “Mom! Hi!” before launching into a high-speed story of her drawings, of Ms. Wilma’s garden, of all the pretty things she’s found and kept, from shiny pebbles to bits of pink paper. It’s nice to just sit back and listen while I slowly sort through these feelings inside me. I think I’m coming to a decision, and it’s one that requires being brave.

But I’ve never backed down before.

I won’t start now.

It’s almost half an hour before Tara and Marie finish talking, but finally Tara says, “’bye, Mom. I miss you. I love you!” before hanging up. As she hands it back to me, she asks, “Mom said I’m staying a little longer?”