it was probably the only success I could ever expect. For so long, I had drifted around Sarah’s orbit. She was always the one in control, the strong one, the one who could pull the strings and have people react and perform the way she wanted. It had always been Sarah and Caleb, and then maybe me off to the side.
Now, though, after seeing past the twenty-four-carat facade of her life, after hearing the whispered arguments, seeing the interaction between her and the rest of her acquired family, I thought that perhaps my sister wasn’t quite in control any longer. But here, right now, with Caleb at my side instead of Sarah’s, I felt like the one in control. This time, my sister could dance on the end of my strings.
“And what about you, Maisey? Alice mentioned you’re with Nurses Without Borders. Is it as exciting as it sounds?”
I laughed. “Not quite. I am a nurse, and lately I’ve been helping to set up clinics or orphanages...” I often got a little embarrassed explaining my job, although I wasn’t quite sure why. It was a noble profession, nursing, and I was proud of it, and of the work I did.
“Really? So when you’re not off saving the world, one remote medical clinic or orphanage at a time, and you’re not swanning it with the socially elite, where do you go? Where is home for you? I know it’s not with Alice.”
I shook my head, and tried not to shudder. No, my home was not with Alice. It hadn’t been since the day Frankie died and she was taken away in a squad car.
“I don’t really have a fixed address—apart from my email,” I joked. “I’ve been so busy I’ve just pretty much moved from project to project. This is the first time I’ve been back to the States in years. Nurses Without Borders usually has a job lined up for me at a site before the current one concludes, and I just move.”
“Well, I can relate to that. When I was in the army I moved five times in two years. Just packed up and headed out to wherever they needed me.”
We glanced at each other, and I think we were both surprised to see the similarity in our lives, but also to realize we shared an understanding that few could match.
After a moment, Caleb cleared his throat. “And you like the work?” he asked, looking down at me intently.
I nodded. “Yeah, I do.” I glanced down at the sand, shifting beneath our feet, and then the paved path appeared. Stability so close to volatility. A symbol of my life, really. “There is something about helping people,” I told him quietly, sincerely, and noticed that Lucy was also quiet now. “I love knowing that I’m doing something productive, but it’s more than that. I’m saving people’s lives. It’s humbling, and yet so uplifting, knowing that I can have such a profound impact on others’ lives. It’s addictive.” My lips twisted. And I would keep doing that work for as long as I could. For once, I was completely honest. This was more than a job for me. It was a vocation. My life’s mission, if you will. Help as many, save as many, as I could.
Caleb threw his arm around my shoulders, and dragged me to his side. “God, it’s so good to see you again, Maisey. I’ve missed this, so much.”
It took me a moment to process, so stunned was I at this admission, and then I relaxed against him, trying to lower my natural resistance.
It was a new kind of feeling, this closeness, and it took me a while to get past the surprise, the enjoyment.
Apart from that night Caleb had left, I couldn’t actually remember feeling this type of comfortable, loving touch of a family member since Alice went to prison.
I was surprised by how lovely it felt, so warm, so generous, so tender. I hoped I could get used to it.
Bridget places the phone beside my plate the next morning, frowning slightly at my meager breakfast. Since I hadn’t been able to choke down a bite of dinner the night before, I’d decided I could have a slice of cantaloupe with my scrambled egg whites. Nothing sweet had touched my lips since that humiliating episode at the East Hamptons fair, so I’d been fantasizing about how wonderful the fruit will taste. As soon as I see the notification on my phone, however, my appetite vanishes. Bridget must have heard it buzzing and assumed it was important.
Pushing my plate away, I look around the table. No one is paying any attention to me. They’re all blissfully ensconced in their own little worlds. Warwick is eager to best his father on the links again. Eleanor is anxious about micromanaging her staff and greeting another group of out-of-town guests, and Alice is entertaining Caleb and Maisey with some crazy tale about her dream of being an aerialist in a traveling circus.
“Is everything all right? Your phone was beeping so I brought it out,” Bridget says, lowering her voice as she pours me more water. “I thought perhaps it was someone saying they can’t make the christening.”
“It’s nothing.” Of course I know it’s anything but, even though I haven’t had the courage to open the email yet. “Andrea sent her regrets.”
It’s a mistake to reference Eleanor’s party. My mother-in-law misses nothing when it comes to her soiree. “What did you say, Sarah? Who isn’t able to make it?”
Shit. It’s a fairly safe bet Eleanor would never have included down-to-earth Andrea on the guest list, but what if I’m wrong? I’d never intended my lie to be held up to close scrutiny. What if she asks to see the email?
“Andrea.”
Eleanor’s brow creases. “Who?”
“Andrea Waterton. She sits on the fair committee with you—she was the one with the booth across from mine this year.”
As my mother-in-law makes a big show of looking perplexed—tapping her chin, staring at the ceiling, and finally shaking her head—I’m tempted to hurl my slice of melon at her. Why does she always have to butt in? Why can’t she mind her own business?
Then again, she thinks this is about the party, and as far as she’s concerned, the party is her business.
“I don’t think I invited the Watertons. In fact, I’m positive I didn’t.”
Whew. “I had her on my list. She was one of mine.”
Eleanor starts to speak, and my hands ball into fists under the table. Fuck. She’s going to contradict me. I was an idiot to believe I’d get away with this bit of subterfuge. She has both lists memorized—this party is an obsession with her.
“What’s the problem?” Warwick raises an eyebrow at me. I don’t miss the threat in his voice, and I’m sure no one else does, either. I’ve been avoiding him as much as possible, delaying coming to bed until I’m positive he’ll be asleep.
“There’s no problem. Andrea Waterton let me know she won’t be able to make the party tomorrow, that’s all.”
“Who’s Andrea Waterton?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“She’s a friend of mine. It’s not important, really. I’ll catch up with her later.”
“Speaking of the party, is there anything I can do to help, Eleanor? I’ve checked my busy schedule and it turns out I have a free morning.”
Caleb’s diversion does the trick. My mother-in-law is well accustomed to issuing orders, and my stepbrother soon has a litany of to-dos that should keep him busy until the afternoon, if not beyond.
That was close. I’ll have to be more careful, unless I want everyone to know about the emails. That would only lead to more questions I can’t answer.
As soon as I’m confident no one is looking, I slip my napkin onto my lap, careful to keep my phone concealed beneath it. From there, it’s easy to hide the device in my pocket.
“Sarah?”
Startled, I realize Maisey has been talking