Moonlight Over Manhattan(84)
“I’m assuming he didn’t turn up to support you.”
“No. He never came to school events. He turned up that night because he was the biggest bully of them all.” She breathed out slowly. “What he did confirmed it, although it took me years to admit that to myself. Years to admit that he didn’t love me at all. It just didn’t seem right or natural.” She felt Ethan’s fingers close over hers.
“This is one story where I’m not sure I even want to hear the ending.”
“The ending is very predictable. I saw him, turned to stone, couldn’t move a muscle and certainly not my vocal cords. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Daniel trying to catch my attention, trying to encourage me to look at him and not our father, but I couldn’t look away. And then I decided this was the perfect time to finally make him proud. If I could recite this poem, then he’d finally love me.”
“But by then you were too stressed to get a word out.”
“Too stressed to say a whole word, that’s true. I managed to repeat the first letter a few times and I was so mortified by all the giggling from the audience all the fight went out of me. Pathetic, I know.” She hated thinking about it. Even now, years later, she wished she could turn back the clock. She would have stayed on the stage and stammered her way through the whole damn thing.
“Not pathetic at all. You were—how old?”
“Can’t remember exactly. Eleven or twelve? And I made it about me. All of it. His behavior. The fact he didn’t love me. All about me. And the truth is that none of it was about me. It was never about me.” She drew in a little breath. “Took me years to realize that.”
There was a long pause.
“Eleven.” Ethan stretched out his legs. “I don’t remember much about being eleven, but I remember being thirteen and I guess it’s not much different. It was all about not making a fool of yourself. You think the whole world is looking at you and thinking about you and you’re scared they’re going to know what a mess you are inside.”
“You felt that way?” She found it hard to imagine.
“All kids feel that way. Some hide it better than others, that’s all. And it takes maturity to realize most people are so busy thinking about themselves that they don’t give a damn about what you’re doing.”
“Well, people did look at me. When having a conversation takes an extra five minutes, people tend to notice. And they’re not kind.”
“So what happened?”
“I stammered, died inside and fled from the stage. We all went home and Fliss was so furious she flew at him with a skillet. I swear she would have killed him if Daniel hadn’t dragged her away. It was hideous.”
“Sounds like it. I’m glad you had your twin and your brother.”
“Yes. It made us closer. In a way we formed a little family of our own. And we’ve stayed close.”
“I’m starting to understand what a big deal it must have been for you when your sister moved away.”
“It’s been a life change, that’s for sure. I guess I got lazy. I stopped doing some things—tough things—for myself because Fliss and Daniel would always do it for me, and they probably did it better. If we had an awkward client it was better for Fliss to deal with it than me. I was always scared that if someone was aggressive, it would bring back my stammer.”
“And then you met me, and your worst nightmares came true.”
He was more dream than nightmare but she didn’t say that. “It was good for me. My worst scenario happened. I survived. I got through it. And I got through it without calling my twin.” She was proud of that. “Not calling Fliss was almost as big a challenge.”
“Because you’re used to talking to her about everything.”
“Yes, and then she worries and tries to protect me. Which is great, except that I would rather protect myself. And maybe I’m not going to do it in the same way she does—”
“Beaning someone with a skillet, you mean?”
She smiled. “Her methods do tend to be physical, that’s true.”
He leaned his head back against the wall. “We see it here too. Abuse. Not always easy to spot. Even harder to do something about, but we try. That night you came in—”
“You thought I’d been abused.”
He turned his head to look at her, his gaze direct and unsettling. “It crossed my mind. You had a vulnerable quality—I don’t know how to describe it.”
“That’s how I look when I try and wear stilettos.” She turned it into a joke. “When you can’t balance, you’re vulnerable.”
A smile touched the edges of his mouth. “You’re an impressive person, Harriet Knight.”
Her heart beat a little harder. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen me trying to climb out of that window.”
He was about to say something when a woman strode toward them wearing scrubs.
Ethan was on his feet instantly. “How is she?”
Harriet stood up too, but stayed back a little, not wanting to intrude. She overheard some of it—lower grade rupture of the spleen, hematologic parameters, splenic preservation, arterial intervention—none of it made sense to her, and all of it sounded horrendous but Ethan seemed relieved, so perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.