The Sweetness of Salt(9)

Sophie looked away. “Well, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be. I just never would’ve thought you’d go that route. You were always so creative, Julia.”

“Creative?” I repeated. “I don’t have a creative bone in my body!”

“You do too!” Sophie insisted. “What about all those adorable little fruit people you used to draw when you were little? Remember? Mr. and Mrs. Apple? The Twin Bing Cherries? With their tiny striped arms and legs. Mr. Lima Bean even had a little fedora. They were so cute!”

I cocked my head. “Sophie, I was like six when I did that stuff. It was doodling. You can’t make a career out of doodling.” I tossed my head. “I’m getting a chance to see things up close up this summer too. Dad got me an internship at the DA’s office.”

“So you’re gonna tail the district attorney around all summer?”

I shrugged. “Probably not the district attorney himself. But definitely the assistant DAs. Dad said I’ll probably be able to sit in on a few trials too.”

Sophie got up from the bed and went over to my shot-glass collection again. “Well, I hope you have fun,” she said, picking up the Harvard glass. “That’s what it’s all about, Julia.”

Fun. This was only one of a gazillion things that separated my sister and me. She insisted that life was meant to be lived in some weird, constant state of amusement, even if it meant not making enough money to pay for heat in the winter or falling behind on her rent. It was probably the reason why she was leaving a steady, good-paying job at the nursing home to go open a bakery. Fun was for weekends, I wanted to tell her now. Fun was for later. After the hard work. “I’ll have fun. I always have fun.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sophie said. “It seems to me you haven’t—”

“You don’t know anything about me,” I said, cutting her off sharply.

She turned, absorbing the blow of my statement, and then put the shot glass back on the shelf. For a moment she just stood there, aligning it neatly with the others. Then she nodded, as if accepting the ugly fact.

“You know, I used to have a collection,” she said finally.

“Of what?”

“Condoms.” She grinned slyly. “Unused, of course.”

“Sophie…,” I started, but she pulled on my arm and sat me down on the bed next to her.

“I’m serious! I did!”

I extricated myself from her grip. “Whatever. You’re acting really weird.”

Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Because I’m talking about things like sex?”

“No, because you’re talking about things like sex with me. We’ve never talked about stuff like this, Sophie, because we don’t talk more than two or three times a year, and when we do, it’s about school or grades or the weather. I mean, I don’t even know how I’m supposed to respond when you tell me things like that.”

The expression on Sophie’s face changed from amusement to annoyance to confusion—all in five seconds. “What do you mean, how you’re supposed to respond?” she asked. “It’s just a conversation, Julia, not a test.”

“Well, it makes me uncomfortable,” I said firmly.

“Okay. Fine. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

I headed for the door. “I’m going down. You coming?”

Sophie sighed. “Yeah,” she said, dragging herself off the bed. “I’m coming.”





chapter


6


Dad was sitting at the dining room table drinking a glass of seltzer when Sophie and I came downstairs again. “It’s the head cheese!” he said, slipping an arm around my waist. I kissed the top of his head. Sophie stood behind one of the dining room chairs, cracking her knuckles. Mom walked in from the kitchen, placed a salad down on the table next to a vase of pink tulips, and nodded to Sophie and me. “You girls have a seat. I just have to finish up the pasta, and then we can start.”

Sophie eyed Dad, who was staring into his water glass, and then reached for her own. Taking a long, slow swallow, she wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist and set the glass back in its place. “You guys don’t have that silly no-smoking rule in this house anymore, do you?”

“We sure do.” The ice cubes in Dad’s glass rattled as he brought it to his mouth. “If you need to smoke one of those things, take it outside.”

Sophie took another sip from her water glass. Above the rim, her eyes had formed two dark slits. Suddenly, she held it up. “Julia, here’s to you.” I bumped my glass clumsily against hers. Dad extended his glass toward Sophie and me. We clinked and then set them back down. Sophie pushed back her chair. “I was going to wait until later but…” She raised her eyebrows, looking first at Dad and then at me. “Well, I guess I can do this now.”

I watched carefully as she leaned down and retrieved an envelope from her back pocket. She held it against her chest for a moment and looked at me. “I’m really proud of you, Julia, for everything you’ve accomplished.” She took a deep breath and then let it out, cocking her head as she did. “This is for you,” she said, leaning over the table and handing me the envelope. “From me and Goober. For all your hard work.”