SHANE, AKA DR. SHANE Donovan aka Dr. Donovan, drove a Mercedes, as had Cliff, the man I was engaged to back home in Menlo Park. Unlike Cliff, though, the doctor treated his car as a mode of transportation rather than a favorite toy. Veronica sat in front, I in back, positioned so not to be visible in the rear-view mirror. I closed my eyes, needing time to think. Something told me that Dr. Donovan knew Maya, and knew her well, which would explain his odd reaction on first meeting Veronica and me and the resulting comments on our appearance. I also suspected this lunch date had something to do with Maya. What I couldn’t figure out was how to act during the upcoming ordeal. Good thing Veronica couldn’t see my face, because I was sure my secret was as conspicuous as a flashing neon sign. I know something you don’t know. How would Veronica react when she discovered I’d withheld the news of our sister’s existence? That we were triplets instead of twins.
As we veered off Lighthouse onto Forest, then Ocean View, Veronica and Dr. Donovan discussed the attributes of Pacific Grove, which proved to be many for those in the right frame of mind. The coastal city with its glut of historical homes, they decided, was the place to be for those seeking rest and tranquility. However, for the tourist bent on visiting art galleries and a fish aquarium, shopping for souvenirs, and eating in a vast array of restaurants, Monterey and Carmel won the draw.
Heck, they made Pacific Grove sound as attractive as a cemetery.
After street parking on Ocean View, our self-appointed guide led us into the Tinnery Restaurant with its panoramic view of Lovers Point Beach. “This place serves good yogi food,” he said, “and the best burgers and fries in town.”
Good. Organic fruits and veggies had their place in a balanced diet, but so did beef and fried potatoes.
No sooner had the waitress taken our orders and brought tall glasses of water than Dr. Donovan announced, “I’m in love with your sister.”
Veronica choked on her drink. And so many stress hormones bombarded my system at once that my stomach twisted into a tight knot. In love with Maya? Darn. This was serious. And he was about to ruin our meal by telling us about it.
“Just so you know,” Veronica said after recovering from a bout of coughing. “Marjorie’s not your type.”
My silence alerted her that something was off. She punched my shoulder. “Okay, out with it. What’s going on?”
High on a cliff to the north of us, above the churning gray ocean, I caught a beam of light before it disappeared.
“What have you been up to while I’ve been hibernating in the basement?” Veronica asked.
I pulled my gaze from the turbulent view to meet her narrowed blue eyes. “Not what you’re thinking.”
The waitress approached with a serving tray balanced on her open palm as though it were an extension of her body. With her free hand, she pulled a fold-out stand from a cubby next to our table and set the serving tray on top before distributing our meals like a pro.
Bet she hadn’t learned that in yoga class.
Only Dr. Donovan seemed to have kept his appetite. He dug into his calamari and noodles as if we’d been discussing the weather. Maybe he expected me to clue Veronica in about Maya. But how could I inform her, out of the blue, about a sister I’d met a week ago and kept secret from her? I longed for more time to prepare and for some place private to share what I knew, without Dr. Shane Donovan listening in. Veronica looked at me as though she’d just caught me shoplifting or cheating at cards. “You’re dumping Morgan for Shane?”
“Hell no. I wouldn’t dump Morgan for any man, let alone someone I just met.”
Veronica blew out her breath and turned to Dr. Donovan, brows raised.
I gave the doctor a look I reserved for the totally clueless, such as my ex-fiancé, but he was too busy feeding his face to notice. If he was truly Maya’s friend and confidant, he’d know Veronica hadn’t yet met her. Did he relish the element of surprise, or was he just being cruel?
“Veronica—” I began.
“You mean, you don’t know?” Dr. Donovan asked.
I prayed that Veronica’s sarcastic sense of humor, even her anger, would rise to the occasion, because the good doctor was itching to give her the shock of her life.
And I didn’t know how to spare her.
“Remember our father’s secret?” I asked. Maybe, Dr. Donovan would resume eating and keep his mouth shut.
Veronica didn’t answer, just presented that what-do-you-take-me-for? look she’d perfected since our first meeting.
“I think I may know what it is.”
No response, except for a tightening of her jaw.
God this was hard. “If you hadn’t been hiding out in the basement, you’d know too,” I said in my defense. Because a defense I would need, for keeping the news of Maya’s existence from Veronica. Even though Maya asked me to. “I planned to tell you, when the time was right, so don’t be mad.” I turned to Dr. Donovan, jabbed my finger at him. “It’s your buddy here who’s being the asshole.”
The doctor’s eyes widened. Good. Hope I shocked him. Did he think I was such a pushover that I’d sit by while he dropped his emotional time bomb and put a wedge between Veronica and me? She shouldn’t be hit with the news of Maya’s existence in this way. What could I do to soften the blow? “Veronica...”
“Out with it, Sis. You’re driving me nuts with suspense.”
“We have a sister.”
Veronica stared at me blank-faced.
I took her hand, forcing myself to finish before the doctor could intervene. “We’re triplets, not twins.”
No reaction. Nothing. Where was her spunk, her sarcasm, her anger? “For some reason, our parents kept it from us,” I said.
Veronica shuddered and took in a ragged breath. “A sister? What the hell?”
Finally, a reaction. I let go of her hand and folded my arms across my chest to prevent the onset of shaking. “Antonia must’ve changed her mind, which explains her request for us to meet with our father.”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Veronica said, her plate of “Sattvic food” untouched.
“What I can’t believe is that after all these years, Bob hasn’t told you about this, and that Antonia has waited until now to—”
“Oh, please,” Veronica said. “Antonia probably couldn’t get through the pearly gates without making amends. As for our father… I think he’s paying a heavy price for his reticence about many things. But a sister. That plain takes the cake.”
“Twenty-nine years is a long time for Antonia to spend in purgatory,” I said.
“Or in hell like Pop,” Veronica replied.
Dr. Donovan set down his fork and cleared his throat. “If your mother’s dead, how do you know she changed her mind about anything?”
“She talks to us,” I said before continuing my discussion with Veronica. “I didn’t tell you about Maya because she asked me not to. She said you needed time—”
“Maya?”
“That’s our sister’s name.”
“What did you tell her about me?”
“Not much.”
“Then how did she know I—”
“She dreams.”
“This is crazy.”
“I know.”
Veronica dropped her napkin onto her untouched Cobb salad. “It’s time we talk to our father. I mean, really talk.”
“I agree.” But this time I wouldn’t be sidetracked by disappointment and fear. This time it wouldn’t be about me.
“Your sister was born with a condition called capillary hemangiomata,” Dr. Donovan said. “It’s congenital, but not necessarily hereditary, that’s why the two of you—”
“What the hell’s he talking about?” Veronica asked, looking at me as if I were suddenly his interpreter.
“The capillaries underneath the surface of her right cheek, nose, and brow are dilated,” the doctor said, “causing them to be covered with a wine-colored stain. There are also bulb-like growths disfiguring her nose and chin.”
A moment passed before Veronica said, “Shit.”
“She doesn’t seem to mind,” I added.
Dr. Donovan continued as if he hadn’t heard me or, worse, as if Maya’s feelings about her condition didn’t count. “In most cases, infantile hemangiomas resolve completely by age seven, and intervention isn’t required. But in Maya’s case, the malformation didn’t go away and has become unsightly.”
“If she looks that bad, how come—” Veronica began.
“I can fix it,” the doctor said.
“So, what’s holding you back?” Veronica asked.
“Maya is.”
It was obvious the doctor wasn’t planning to share Maya’s side of the story. “Let me get this straight,” I said, aiming for diplomacy. “Maya’s birthmark is cosmetically disturbing, but she won’t let you ‘fix it.’”
“That’s right.”
Veronica signaled the waiter for more water. “Maybe it’s a matter of cost.”
She assumed, of course, that Maya was ashamed of her birthmark. No surprise there. I’d assumed the same until Maya convinced me otherwise. Which brought up another question. “Have you touched Maya’s mark, Dr. Donovan? I mean, really touched it?”
“No, but I want to, believe me.”
With a scalpel! I thought of puppy love and pedestals and unattainable expectations. “Remove it, not experience it?”
He glared at me with an intensity that at one time would’ve frightened me. Now, it just made me mad. “Be serious,” he said. “We have the technology to make her beautiful. As she was meant to be.”
“She sees the birthmark as a gift, not a deformity,” I said.
Veronica sucked in her breath. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Dr. Donovan leaned across the table, got close to my face. “People stare at her and make fun of her. You have no idea.”
“And what does Maya think and say about that?” I asked.
“She claims not to notice, but I know better.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Cliff had also insisted he knew what was best for me, overriding my wishes until I’d forgotten I had a voice. I’d allowed him to take over my life rather than taking responsibility for and facing it on my own. “If you love Maya, you’ll accept her as she is.”
“You’re her sister,” he said. “You’re supposed to help her.”
“And that’s what I plan to do.”
I slid out of the booth and dropped two twenties on the table, covering a tip for the waitress who’d made a difficult job look easy. “You’re the one with experience in law enforcement, Veronica. Deal with him.”
“Law enforcement?” the doctor asked as I headed for the door.