The Perfect Child(9)

My sister, Allison, reached over and poured me a glass of wine, fingernails perfectly manicured, glowing pink. I didn’t know how she found the time to get them done with how busy she was. “Don’t worry. He’ll be here soon.”

Of course Christopher’s tardiness wasn’t a big deal to her because her husband, Greg, was always late. Whenever Christopher and I needed them to be somewhere at a specific time, we told them it was thirty minutes earlier than it was, and even then, they still managed to be late sometimes. In fact, Christopher was so late tonight that Greg was already here.

Greg was uncomfortable being at dinner with just Allison and me, though he wasn’t doing or saying anything to let on that he felt that way. Allison had told me he’d said that being alone with us was like being the awkward third wheel on a date. He was right. It was hard for anyone to get a word in when the two of us got going, but that was what happened when you grew up only eleven months apart. We were more like twins than sisters.

“Should I try to get ahold of him?” Greg asked, rubbing his chin. He had a scruffy layer of light facial hair all the time—never clean shaven and never a full beard. He directed his question at Allison like he needed her permission more than mine.

Allison flicked her hair over her shoulders and rolled her eyes dramatically. “He’s not ignoring her because he’s mad. Not like someone I know.”

“Like I’m the only one who uses that tactic,” he snapped back.

They had no problem fighting in public, and I’d told her how uncomfortable it made me, but she never listened. Christopher rushed up to our table right before they stepped into a full-fledged argument. I breathed a sigh of relief—both to see his face and because I wasn’t going to have to listen to Allison and Greg fight.

“I’m so sorry I’m late.” He bent to kiss me, and I turned my head so it landed on my cheek instead of my lips, my worry instantly replaced with annoyance.

“It’s totally fine,” Greg said. He pointed to the full drink in front of Christopher’s place setting. “I took care of you.”

Christopher laughed and slid into his chair. “Thanks.”

“So where were you?” I asked, not willing to let him slide that easily.

“I fell asleep after Janie’s surgery,” he said.

“You fell asleep after her surgery?”

“I know, right? Pretty unbelievable. I don’t even know how it happened. One minute I was sitting next to her bed watching her sleep, and the next second I was out.” He reached underneath the table and squeezed my knee. “Don’t be mad.”

Allison reached across and slapped my hand. “She’s not going to be mad. We don’t get to see you guys enough for her to get mad and ruin our night.”

“Fine, but only because she’s got a point. For the record—I’m still mad at you.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“How’d her surgery go?” Allison asked.

Even though we couldn’t see each other as much as we wanted, Allison and I texted constantly so that we stayed current with whatever was going on in the other’s life. I’d been filling her in all week with the details of Janie’s case as they came forth. Initially, police investigators had thought she was a neglected toddler, but the wounds on her body told a more painful story. The marks on her neck and wrists were consistent with being tied up, which elevated her case to another level of severity, as if it weren’t already bad enough.

Allison was obsessed with finding the person responsible. She scoured missing-children databases and even had Google alerts set up on her phone notifying her when a new missing-child case occurred. It reminded me of what she’d been like in law school. Sometimes I thought she missed it, though she’d never admit it, since she swore staying at home with her boys was the best job she’d ever had.

“Everything went smoothly. Perfect, really.” Christopher beamed. “I’d gone over her x-rays so many times it was like taking my boards.”

“How’d the fusions go?” I asked. They were the part he’d been most worried about. He’d pored over those scans for hours.

“Better than I could’ve expected. Some of it was impossible to cut through because her bones are so small. It was like working on a model. I’m glad that part is over with. Now we just hope she heals okay.” He took another drink. “You’re never going to guess what we found out.” He looked around the table, making brief eye contact with each of us. “Janie isn’t a toddler—she’s actually six years old.”

“What?” Allison said. “Seriously?”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“No one has ever been sure about her age. Dan thought it’d be a perfect opportunity to measure all the gaps between her growth plates while she was under, so we did. Every single one. Turns out she’s six years old.”

“Wow. How does that change things for her care?” I asked.

“It’s going to be interesting. The progression of a—”

Allison interrupted him. “Okay, this is where I’m stopping the conversation because I know you’re about one step away from getting all medical on us. No more work talk tonight. Seriously. Just fun from now on.”

I laughed and grabbed my glass, raising it to hers. If anyone needed a night out, it was Allison. We’d been raised like twins, but Allison had actual twins. Caleb and Dylan were my nine-year-old nephews and kept her busier than any full-time job I’d ever had.