9781250209153

My cheeks go hot. Telling Thora is one thing, but telling Daphne?
“Mom,” I say meaningfully.
“We don’t have secrets in this family,” Mom says. “When one of us
hurts, we all hurt.”
I swallow and avoid my sisters’ eyes as they settle in the family room
with us. There’s a protracted silence, but no one steps in to fill it. The focus
is entirely on me. There’s no way out of this.
I take a deep breath and tell the story all over again, finishing with the
New Year’s Eve party and the picture Charlotte showed Irene today.
When I’m finally finished, there’s a ringing silence. Thora’s jaw is tight.
Daphne looks crestfallen. Mom breathes carefully through her nose while
Dad rubs his mouth mechanically.
“That’s pretty fucked, Scottie,” Thora says finally.
“Thora,” Mom reprimands.
“Thanks for those wise and compassionate words,” I say thickly. I round
on my mom. “Do you see why I didn’t want to tell her? She’s judgmental
about everything.”
“I’m being judgmental because this is not the Scottie I know,” Thora
snaps.
“Yeah, well, the Scottie you know was heartbroken and hurting, but you
didn’t want to hear about that. You only wanted to point out how shitty
Tally was.”
“Because she was shitty.”
“From your perspective, maybe she was. But can you please consider
that maybe I saw things worth loving in her? That before she broke my
heart, she built me up into the best version of myself?”
“I don’t get it,” Daphne cuts in. Her voice is soft and quiet. “I’ve always
thought you were amazing. Why did you need Tally to show you that?”
That’s when I start sobbing again.
Mom and Dad meet me on my couch. Dad lets me cry into his shoulder
while Mom strokes my arm. My sisters fold themselves onto the floor
below us and wait. It’s a piercing, intimate moment: the five of us packed
together in a three-foot radius, the Christmas tree lit up in the background,
Pickles pawing curiously at my socks.