Evangeline hadn’t known how much she missed her sister until Colleen climbed into the bed with her, just as they’d done years ago, when they were girls and not women.
Being home was odd, with a hazy, abstract quality, as if she’d stepped back into a world that wasn’t quite hers, but was close. She took this as a sign she wasn’t done healing, and that being away was still for the best. But when her heart didn’t explode, she knew this was also a sign, one that told her it was okay to come home every now and then, too.
Christmas at Ophélie held a magic all on its own. The staircases spiraled with lighted holly, and the entire property smelled of warm gingerbread. In the study, the tree reached as tall as the high tray ceiling, presents overflowing nearly into the hall.
The memory of Maddy was dimmest here, for they’d treated Ophélie as a summer home only, until after she died and Mama had the idea that the family estate was where they needed to be to heal. Her ghost was everywhere anyway, no matter where they were on Christmas Eve, because this would always and forever be Maddy’s day. She’d unintentionally sealed her name on all future December 24ths and there was nothing to be done about it.
This year was different, though, because instead of only mourning lost life, they were celebrating the advent of new. Olivia, Nicolas, and soon, at any moment, Augustus’ daughter would enter the world. They brought Ekatherina to Ophélie and created a birthing suite, so that the family could stay close to her progress without driving an hour back and forth into town. Her earlier labor had been a false one, but the doctor insisted the real one would be imminent. Augustus’ drawn, pale face broke Evangeline in a new way; the way only being horribly right about something horribly wrong could. No matter how much she’d disliked Ekatherina, she’d never wanted their marriage to come to this hostile cease-fire of cold looks and whispered curses.
But there would be a fourth child born soon, now. Colleen’s.
Colleen, who never wanted children, now had to find the courage to do so.
And they’d get to that subject, they would.
But first, Evangeline had something to get off her chest, to the only person she could ever say the words to.
“I met someone, too,” she said, as Colleen settled herself under the blankets.
“I figured you had. It’s why you left, isn’t it?”
“Not the main reason,” Evangeline replied. “Only the last one.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Evangeline rolled her face to the ceiling. “I didn’t know why, at first. I tried to, but the words never came, and I stopped trying to force them. The more complicated my feelings got for Amnesty, the harder they were for me to understand, let alone try to explain them to you.”
“Amnesty.” Colleen let the word roll off her tongue softly. “What a lovely name.” No acknowledgement of Evangeline’s lover being a woman, and with that exclusion, no judgment, either.
Evangeline told her older sister about the night she met Amnesty, and every night after. About the friendship she refused to define until it defined itself, and she lost her heart in the process. She didn’t leave out a single detail, because this was more to Evangeline than sharing with Colleen; it was an unburdening. With the story out, with someone else in the universe possessed of the facts, they no longer needed to possess her.
“I’m so sorry, Evie.” Colleen laced their hands together under the blanket. “Our family has been targeted by many people with evil in their hearts, this… this is shocking, even to me.”
“I think she did love me, Colleen. That’s the thing. She did. I know she did.”
“I’m not talking about Amnesty, I mean her father. It’s hard to blame her for wanting to find a way to earn freedom for her and her sister. She didn’t expect to have feelings for you.”
Evangeline snickered. “Ten dollars says I expected it less.”
“I know.” Colleen released her hand and stared at the ceiling, where a hundred points of light danced across the plaster, seeping in through the pattern on the lace curtains Irish Colleen had crafted by hand, years ago. “I’d guess you’re confused a bit, too.”
“About?”
“Your sexuality.”
Evangeline shook her head against the pillow. “No, Leena. I was. I’m not anymore.”
“Are you going to tell me?” She looked at her in the dark. “You know I don’t have judgment for anyone’s choices, as long as they don’t hurt anyone. Right? You know I love you, and that love comes in many forms.”
Evangeline rolled her eyes. “If that’s your way of saying you’re cool with me being a lezzy, you sound more like one of those whack job psychologists that come on Mama’s TV programs.”
Colleen feigned offense. “That was my best attempt at being supportive, thank you very much.”
“Well, I’m not a lesbian. I’m not exactly straight, either.” She shrugged. “I guess I’m both?”
“Bisexual,” Colleen affirmed.
“I’m a scientist, Colleen. I don’t care about labels, unless they were given to peer-reviewed research.”
“Oh, excuse me.”
“Besides, I don’t have any interest in dating. Not right now. I want to finish school and figure things out before I’ll have any time for social norms.”
“I see.”
“You see,” Evangeline parroted in a teasing voice.
“I get it,” Colleen said. “You’re so above it all.”
This sent them both into a fit of laughter, first Colleen, and then Evangeline. When the giggles settled, Evangeline laid her head on Colleen’s shoulder. “I do miss Aggie. I’m glad he has Lizzy.”
“And a daughter soon.”
“I notice you didn’t mention the Russian. Any chance you finally see what I see?”
“I’ve seen it for a while, Evie, but Augustus is a grown man who makes his own choices. He chose her, and we don’t have to understand it.”
“I’ll be damned if she hurts him, Leena.”
“She already has.”
Evangeline grimaced. “I hope he takes his daughter and throws Comrade Ekatherina out in the street.”
“What would Dad say if he heard you talk like that?”
“Dad would have had the bitch deported a long time ago.”
Colleen laughed. “No, I don’t think so. Augustus is just like him. You don’t see it? Both stubborn, men of honor. You couldn’t tell Dad a damn thing, and Aggie is no different.”
“She’s not one of us, Colleen, and she doesn’t want to be.”
“Neither does Cordelia. Or Edouard.”
“And Noah?” Evangeline asked gently.
Colleen turned away.
“You know you can’t keep things from me,” she implored. “I told you about Amnesty, which wasn’t easy, even now. It still hurts.”
“I know.”
“We can hurt together. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“There’s nothing to say. Whatever love he had for me wasn’t bigger than his bigotry.”
“What about the letter you found? From his dad?”
“A lotta good that did.” Colleen told her about their last encounter, in the library. “He’s made his choice, and he’s living with it. I have to now, too.”
Evangeline lifted herself up on one arm, incredulous. “Colleen! This isn’t a regular old breakup! He got you knocked up! You’re carrying his baby and he doesn’t just get to be a bigoted asshole anymore.”
“This isn’t helping me feel better.”
“Is that what we’re doing? I didn’t realize.”
Colleen nudged Evangeline back down and curled up against her chest. “Stop pretending there’s a future that involves Noah. It hurts, when I know it isn’t possible.” She swallowed.” How am I going to raise a child while I’m in medical school? Alone? I’m six months along, and I’m going to have to answer this question very soon.”
“Mama would raise your baby for you, you know that… or you could always consider adoption, but it would be hard to think of a Deschanel in someone else’s household, living a whole different life…”
“Lives are a gift in our family, we both know this,” Colleen whispered, careful not to let her voice carry across their childhood home. “Mama raised seven of us. I wouldn’t ask it of her again. She should enjoy her years as a grandmother, not be burdened by them.”
Evangeline stroked her hair. “Maybe I could move to Scotland and help you.”
“What about MIT?”
“What of it? I don’t think the school is going anywhere.”
“Stop,” Colleen pleaded, turning her face away as the tears streamed down her cheek and onto her pillow. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore tonight. Let’s get through tomorrow, and then… I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Evie assured her, followed by a soft yawn. “I promise.”
Colleen kissed her fist and closed her eyes. Evangeline realized what she was doing and followed suit.
“For Maddy,” they whispered together, in the darkness.
Elsewhere in the house, Ekatherina screamed as the first throes of labor washed over her.