“Cannonball!” Rosie shouted, before she launched her compact little body into the pool. She wore a brand-new swimsuit, one of those with a built-in flotation device. It was royal blue with dolphins on it, a gift from Wife Number Two when we’d arrived, just a few hours ago. Lucy and Lola were in the shallow end with Jennica, who wore a string bikini that showed off her tanned, curvy figure, and their part-time nanny, Anna Maria. The twins shrieked with delight, and I could tell that Rosie was loving being the cool older sibling for once.
As for me, I sat on a lounge chair in khaki cargo pants and a white T-shirt, blocking my face from the sun with a pair of Jennica’s sunglasses and a floppy straw hat. I clutched one of the books I’d brought with me, The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. The irony of the title was not lost on me. But I found it hard to concentrate on the story as sweat trickled down my front and pooled at the base of my training bra. The water looked cool, silky, and inviting, but I wasn’t going near it today.
My mom must have told my dad that both of us needed new bathing suits because Jennica had bought me a new one, too. A bikini. With little cups where my boobs were supposed to go. I’d tried it on to be polite, and as I’d gazed at myself in the full-length mirror in the little change house beside the pool, I felt like the most tragic girl on the face of the earth. The bikini bottom sagged around my flat bony butt, and the top hung sadly with nothing to hold it up. I poked one of the cups with my finger, and it created a big concave indentation, which would have been funny if it didn’t make me want to cry.
How could I have thought for a moment that Jean-Paul could be interested in me when he has Ashley falling all over him? Ashley might be a bitch, but she’s a pretty bitch. I, on the other hand, am painfully average. Possibly even below average. I should have stuck to my vow.
I was starting to feel seriously sorry for myself when Jennica walked right into the change room without knocking.
“How does it fit?” she asked, before she had a chance to actually look at me and figure it out for herself. “Oh. No worries, the shop has a million different styles, and I know at least a dozen more that will look gorgeous on you.” She smiled her trademark smile, showing off two rows of dazzling white teeth. “In the meantime, you can swim in your underwear if you want; it’s just us girls.”
Was she kidding me? “Thanks, but I’m actually feeling a bit chilled,” I lied.
So here I was, sweltering under the hot sun instead. Rosie was showing the twins her dive, which looked more like a belly flop.
I got up and moved my chair into the shade. I polished off my Diet Coke and put the can beside my lounge chair. Jennica buys Diet Coke by the case, and since Mom doesn’t buy pop except on special occasions, I drank a lot of it here. I belched softly and tried once again to read my book.
It had been just two days since I’d apologized to Dad on the phone, but once I’d done so, things moved really quickly. First, my mom had a long talk with my dad. “She’s suspended. For the rest of the week.” I could hear her through the vent in the bathroom, where I was brushing my teeth. “She punched a girl in the nose.”
I noticed she didn’t bring up the Facebook photos.
There was a long pause while she listened to my dad. “Don’t you dare call my parenting skills into question, Ian, don’t you dare. When is the last time you parented your daughters?”
I couldn’t help it – I grinned. I love it when Mom tears a strip off Dad. It doesn’t happen very often because they rarely speak, but it’s awesome when it does.
“You need to take her off my hands for a while. I can barely cope with her these days.”
My smile disappeared.
A couple of hours later, Mom announced that Jennica had found a last-minute deal for a flight leaving Wednesday morning. Rosie was delighted, especially since it meant she got to miss three days of daycare. We would be staying with them for ten days, our longest visit yet.
Mom and I barely spoke to each other when she drove us to the airport.
“Have a wonderful time,” she said to Rosie as she showered her with kisses outside the security gate. Then she straightened up and looked at me. “Behave yourself,” she said, before quickly kissing my forehead.
“What did you say to Dudley?” I asked.
She pursed her lips. “Nothing. I haven’t answered him yet.”
“Answered him about what?” Rosie piped up.
“Well, just – don’t answer him,” I pleaded. “Not until we’re back.”
She just grabbed us and hugged us. “Good-bye, my girls.”
Then I’d taken Rosie’s hand and the two of us went through the security gate. Three hours later, we’d landed in Los Angeles.
I gave up on my book and put it down beside the lounge chair. I looked around at the pool, the swing set, and the infamous sandbox. A stone fence surrounded the yard, just high enough so that you couldn’t see the neighbors, and some sort of ivy fell from the stones.
Their home was beautiful. And I couldn’t help it, my mind wandered to that place again, the place that fantasized about what our lives would be like if Dad hadn’t met Jennica. We might have all moved down to L.A. and lived in a house with a pool. Mom probably would have insisted on a more modest house, and she wouldn’t have hired a nanny, or decorated in the same way, or had as many clothes in the closet, but still. We’d have a pool instead of a rusted trampoline, and Rosie would have more toys and wouldn’t have to wear my hand-me-downs. Maybe I would have my own room, and Mom would drive a nicer car, and our house wouldn’t be falling apart.
Suddenly one of the twins toddled up to me. I could tell it was Lucy because her swimsuit was green. She hollered, “Up, up!” I pulled her onto my lap and hugged her. She was wet, but it felt good because I was so hot.
She didn’t seem to remember that I was the wicked half sister who’d made her eat poo. Or, if she did remember, she didn’t hold it against me. Pretty soon Lola, in her purple swimsuit, joined us, and I had both of them on my lap. As I held them tight, I realized I was crying. Tears were gushing down my face, hot tears of shame for what I had done to these two little girls, who’d never, ever done anything to hurt me except to be born.
Next thing I knew, Rosie was slapping her way over, a pair of flippers on her feet. She frowned at me through her blue-green goggles, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Girls, make room for Rosie,” I said, wiping away any leftover tears, and Rosie climbed up too. Then Jennica came running over, worried that the chair would collapse, so we piled onto the grass instead. I tickled all three of them and gave them airplane rides, putting my feet on their tummies and lifting them into the air and making airplane noises. Jennica sat close by, and I could tell she didn’t one hundred percent trust me, and I guess I couldn’t blame her.
As I placed my feet into their chubby little tummies, first Lola, then Lucy, I realized that deep in my heart, I loved my half sisters, I loved them more than I thought I ever could. But I would never love them as much as I loved Rosie.
And maybe it was terrible to think that. But Dr. Belinda Boniface once told me that I had to own my thoughts. So I was owning this one, too.
After Anna Maria went home, Jennica ordered some pizzas for dinner, and we ate outside on a picnic blanket. Then Rosie and I called Mom to let her know we’d arrived safely.
“Is Dudley there?” I couldn’t resist asking.
There was a pause before she answered. “Signs point to yes.”
I rolled my eyes. “Mom, I invented the Magic-8-Ball conversation. Do not use it on me.”
“Sorry, Violet. Just trying for a bit of levity.”
I softened my tone. “Yeah. I know.”
“And no, I haven’t answered him yet. I’ve told him I need some time to think.”
“You can’t marry him, Mom.”
“Violet.”
I didn’t respond.
“Well, I should let you go.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“And I love you, my dear silly girl.”
Dad still wasn’t home by the time I went to bed. Rosie was already sound asleep, her little chest rising and falling with each breath, her sheet twisted around her feet.
I read my book for a long time, but it was still hard to concentrate. My thoughts kept drifting to Dudley’s proposal, to Jean-Paul, and to Ashley’s nose.
And to Phoebe. Especially Phoebe. What a mess I’d made. She was my best friend, and I missed her like crazy.
I heard Dad’s car pull up around midnight. I thought about climbing out of bed and meeting him at the door to say hello, but I didn’t really feel like it and so I didn’t. I knew I would see him in the morning, over breakfast.
I could put my plan into motion then.