Last but not least, right, Anna?
She was saying something, but her voice was so low when she spoke that he couldn’t hear her. He caught a glimpse of the tears glistening in her eyes even though she tried to avert her head so her grief would remain as private as her parting words.
Peter felt a hint of guilt pricking his conscience. This was his sister. Adopted, yes, but raised with him from infancy. She’d been only a few days old at most when his father had brought her into their house.
“I brought you an early birthday present, Alice,” the senior Wilder had announced as he came through the front door.
Until the day he died, Peter would remember the look of surprise, disbelief and then something more that he couldn’t begin to fathom wash across his mother’s face when she came into the living room to see what it was that his father had brought home for her. He was ten at the time and David was six. His mother had just crawled out of a depression that had her, for a time, all but confined to her bed. He remembered how afraid he’d been back then, afraid that there was something wrong with his mother. He’d fully expected her to fall head over heels in love with the baby—that’s what women did, he’d thought at the time. They loved babies.
But there had been a tightness around her mouth as she took the bundle from his father.
“She’s very pretty, isn’t she, boys?” his father had said, trying to encourage them to become part of the acceptance process.
“She’s noisy,” David had declared, scowling. “And she smells.”
His father had laughed. “She just needs changing.”
“Can we change her for a pony?” David wanted to know, picking up on the word.
“‘Fraid not, David. What do you think of her, Peter?” his father had asked, turning toward him.
“She’s very little” had been his only comment about this new addition. He remembered watching his mother instead of the baby. Watching and worrying. His father had once said that he was born old, and there was some truth to that. He couldn’t remember ever being carefree.
“That’s right,” his father had agreed warmly. “And we need to look out for her.” His father had placed his large, capable hand on his shoulder, silently conveying that he was counting on him. “You need to look after her. You’re her big brother.”
He remembered nodding solemnly, not happy about the assignment but not wanting to disappoint his father, either. He also recalled seeing his mother frown as she took the baby from his father and walked into the other room.
And so began a rather unsteady, continuing family dynamic. David saw Anna as competition, while Peter regarded Anna as a burden he was going to have to carry. And things never really changed.
For one reason or another, things were never quite harmonious among them. Whenever he would extend the olive branch, Anna would hold him suspect. And whenever she would seek common ground with him, he’d be too busy to meet her halfway. Things between her and David were in an even worse state. Only she and Ella got along.
And so the years melted away, wrapped in misunderstanding and hurt feelings, and the gap continued to widen.
It was time to put a stop to it.
“Anna,” he called to her.
David and Ella, standing nearby, both turned to look at their older brother. About to melt back into the crowd, Anna looked up and in Peter’s direction. The wind whipped her light blond hair into her eyes. She blinked, pushing the strand back behind her ear, a silent question in her pale blue eyes.
Peter cut the distance between them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on borrowed time, that there was a finite amount of it during which he could bring peace to the family. He had no idea where the feeling had come from.
However, once he was beside her, words seemed to desert him. Ordinarily, he always knew how to sympathize, how to comfort. His bedside manner was one of his strongest points. He had absolutely no trouble placing himself in his patient’s drafty hospital gown, understanding exactly what he or she was going through. Like his father before him, Peter’s capacity for empathy was enormous, and his patients loved him for it.
But this was different. This was almost too personal. This came with baggage and history. His and Anna’s.
Peter did his best to sound warm when he spoke to her, knowing that she had to be feeling the same sort of pain he was.
“There’s going to be a reception at my house.” David and Ella were standing directly behind him. He wished one of them would say something. “I didn’t know if you knew.” Once the words were out, he realized it sounded like a backhanded invitation.
“I didn’t,” she replied quietly. Her eyes moved from David’s face to Ella’s to his again.
She looked as if she wanted to leave, Peter thought. He couldn’t really blame her. He knew there’d be less tension if she did. But then again, it wasn’t right to drive her away.
Peter tried again. “I thought it might help everyone to get together, swap a few stories about Dad. Everyone seems to have a hundred of them,” he added, forcing a smile to his lips.
He waited for her response, but it was David who spoke next. “Sounds great, Peter, but I’m booked on a flight that leaves in a couple of hours.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve just got enough time to get to the airport and go through security.”
“Take a later flight,” Peter urged.
He knew that David could well afford to pay the difference for changing his plans. The younger man was, after all, a highly sought after plastic surgeon. People magazine had referred to David as the surgeon to the stars in a recent article. He was certainly the family’s success story—at least, financially. In contrast, Ella had just recently completed her residency. And God knew that he wasn’t making a pile of money, Peter thought. About forty percent of his patients had no health insurance and could barely make token payments for their treatment, not that that would stop him from being available to them if the need arose.
However, Anna probably did quite well for herself in the business world. Her clothes certainly looked expensive, as did the car she drove. She never elaborated about her job, though, so it was left to Peter’s imagination to fill in the blanks.
David shook his head. “You know I would, but I’ve got a surgery scheduled first thing in the morning. It was a last-minute booking,” he explained. “Flying always tires me out and I need a good eight hours to be at my best.” He paused for a moment, looking at his older brother. It was obvious that he did feel somewhat guilty about grieving and running. “Are you okay with that?”
No, Peter thought, he wasn’t okay with that. But that was life. There was no point in creating a fuss, so he nodded and said, “I understand. Duty calls.”
Squeezing through the opening that David had inadvertently left for her, Anna was quick to say, “I have to be going, too.”
She deliberately avoided Peter’s eyes, knowing that they would bore right through her, not that it really mattered. She’d come here for her father, not for any of them. She knew what they thought of her. She’d hoped that their father’s passing might finally bring them together, but that obviously wasn’t happening. In their eyes, she knew she would always be an outsider. There was no getting away from it.
“There’s a meeting I need to prepare for,” she told him.
She was lying, Peter thought. Anna always looked extremely uncomfortable when she lied.
But he wasn’t about to press. “You’ll be missed,” he told her.
Now who was lying? he asked himself.
She debated leaving the comment alone and retreating while the going was good. But she couldn’t resist saying, “I sincerely doubt that.” She saw both her brothers and