Mariana’s gift to Ellie was simple. It didn’t really suit the rules—she hadn’t made it, and technically it was more than one gift. But she’d put it together, and it had felt like making something at the time.
Ellie opened the box and then smiled. “Why do people always give me backpacks?” But she looked excited as she peered into it.
“First of all, it’s not fugly like that one Harrison gave you last year. Second of all, it’s full of stuff for college.”
Pulling things out, Ellie started to laugh, which was exactly what Mariana had wanted. “Nerds.” A huge box of them, the size of two hands put together.
“Because you’ll need so much sugar in college it’s ridiculous.”
Ellie took out an industrial-sized bottle of aspirin.
“You shouldn’t drink when you’re underage. Obviously. But if you do, take a couple of those before you go to sleep.”
Poking deeper into the bag, Ellie laughed again. “Chocolate. Coffee. Windex?”
“Because you can clean everything with Windex. Your mom taught me that. Sinks, mirrors, even the toilet in case of emergencies. There are sponges in there, too, and gloves, because who knows who your roommates will be? You’re going to need them.” Mariana pointed. “Open that coupon wallet.”
Ellie unfolded it. “Gift cards! Wow. Trader Joe’s, Starbucks, Amazon, Chili’s . . . These are great.”
“There’s a ton more stuff in there. Sharpies and pencils and erasers and . . .”
“That’s wonderful,” said Nora softly, leaning to look inside. “I wish I’d thought of that.”
Crap, crap, her gift to Nora was stupid. So fucking stupid. It wasn’t even a gift. It was just . . .
But her sister looked expectantly at her. She smiled. Mariana’s heart, which had felt so small and black after their fight, twisted again as if trying to right itself.
Using every bit of courage she had, Mariana handed over the small white box. This could be wrong. This could be so wrong . . .
Nora opened it. She looked curiously into it. “A . . . key?”
Mariana handed the other white box to Ellie. “One for you, too. It’s to our house.”
Nora nodded. The bedroom. She’d seen. She understood. Ellie didn’t, not yet, but she would. Eventually.
“And there’s this.” Mariana held out her hand. The diamond winked on her ring finger.
“Mariana! What—you said yes? Yes? But why—why did you change your mind?”
Mariana didn’t know how to say it, didn’t know how to make it not devastating. “I always thought . . .” She’d cried for two days, off and on, after she’d asked Luke if she could still have the ring, laughing through the tears when she had to. It was a dam that had been broken by the weight of the metal Luke had slipped on her finger (the same ring, his grandmother’s—he’d gotten it back from the restaurant after all). All the levees she’d thought she had in place had failed, every one. Now, as she saw the pain crease Nora’s face, she felt them start again. “Damn it, Nora, I did this for you.”
“What?”
She hiccuped around a sob. “I never thought I could pull off marriage if you hadn’t managed to get it right.”
Nora just stared.
“I never told you this, but I was so glad when he left.” She glanced at Ellie, who sat without blinking. “I’m sorry, sugar. But it’s true. Him leaving brought your mom back to me.”
“But—,” started Nora.
“I know,” said Mariana, twisting the ring. “It’s not fair, but that’s what I felt. But . . . I just figured marriage was something the Glass women didn’t get right. Like Mom. But now . . . Luke and I will be a family. In case we need to . . .” She looked frantically at Ellie, unable to say it out loud. She couldn’t say the worst thing in front of her, she just couldn’t.
Ellie moved to a kneeling position. From the back of her pocket she took out a yellow slip of paper. “I think I should give you your present, Aunt Mariana.”
With shaking fingers, hating the wetness that slid traitorously down her face, Mariana unfolded it.
“I don’t understand.” The paper said “BIMMP99.”
“It’s my password.”
“What does it stand for?”
Ellie said, “Boy Is My Mother Pushy and my birth year.”
“Why are you giving it to me?”
“For, like, my phone and my computer and stuff.”
Next to her, Nora made a choking sound.
“Why . . . ?”
Ellie said, “Because Mom needs my password to make sure I’m not meeting inappropriate men on the Internet or something.”
“I’ve never used it,” Nora said.
Ellie gave a strange, sweet smile. “I know.”
The password was for her. For Mariana. Ellie was giving it to her for the same reason she would marry Luke—to make a safety net for Ellie, a stronger one, a better one.
Ellie put her hands flat on the coffee table in front of them. “You know the chances are that I’ll be eighteen before we need to really worry about any of this. Then I’ll be able to take care of myself. And besides, they’re coming out with new meds all the time.”
“I know,” said both Mariana and Nora at the same time. It was a catchphrase they all used. New meds. Science. New hope. And after all, who knew what might happen tomorrow?
“I still haven’t given Mom my gift.” Ellie reached in her back pocket again and pulled out a white envelope that had been folded in half. “Here. Don’t be mad.”