He cared for me, really cared for me. If we were the close ones instead of Sarah and him, Caleb would never have left. I was sure of it. I wouldn’t have let him leave. I wouldn’t have dissolved into tears; I would have fought for him, I would have talked with him, listened to him, cherished him like he needed to be cherished. Instead I cherished that note, that little sign that showed me that for whatever reason he was leaving, whatever had caused him to walk out in the middle of the night, that I had been on his mind. I had carried that note around the world with me ever since.
Peter was livid when he awoke the next morning to learn his son had left in the middle of the night. I was in the living room when he’d made this discovery, and my eyes darted to Sarah as our stepfather stormed into the living room. I wanted to hide, but Lucy said it would be all right, so I stayed. He grabbed Sarah by the shoulders and shook her so hard, her head had jerked with the movement. He pulled her close then, snarling in her face.
“If I find this is your fault, I will make you pay.”
Sarah gazed up at him so calmly, so serenely. I braced myself in the corner, cowering and hoping he wouldn’t come after me next, but I may as well have not existed, because his full focus was on my sister.
And she just stared at up him. She wasn’t trying to hide, like me. She wasn’t cowering; she was just cool, composed, like the placid surface of a lake. Seeing that unshaken equilibrium in the face of Peter’s rage, and despite my frustration and anger with my sister for letting Caleb go, I had to hand it to her, she reacted brilliantly. My respect for her grew—from my hiding spot in the corner. Her lack of reaction frustrated my stepfather. Peter stormed out of the house, swearing, and flung himself into his car and drove off.
I watched as Caleb’s stride matched mine, and we walked in unison up the path to the house. Unlike half an hour ago, my steps were moderate, and not the frenzied, frantic pace I’d been running. My heart rate had nearly slowed to normal, and I was no longer sick with anxiety, guilt or any other negative emotion. Caleb always had that effect on me. It was like he was an anchor in my storm, the eye in every cyclone...he was the beacon that led me back to those warm, safe, beautiful memories of my childhood that were so bright and joyous in a forest of darkness.
“So, tell me, Caleb, what was it like in the army? How long were you in for?” Lucy asked him, staring up in that wide-eyed, curious way that always had a man responding. I listened as he talked about boot camp, and then where he’d been deployed. I know Lucy was flirting with him, but I drank his conversation in, eager to hear about his experiences, his time away from me. I tried to tell myself that I was slipping into that familiar habit of hanging on to his every word, of inserting myself into his “now,” to try and make up for our lost time. The adoration and love was like an old, cozy pair of yoga pants—easy to slide into, conforming to your shape, comfortable to wear.
There was a tiny part, though, one that I wanted to ignore, because it wasn’t big of me, I’ll admit it. It was small, it was petty, but it was instinctive. Right here, right now, I had something that Sarah couldn’t. She was married, and had created a home for herself with Warwick. She couldn’t have Caleb, too.
For once, I felt successful, and yes, it shamed me that it was at my sister’s expense, but hell, with my life the way it was, it was probably the only success I could ever expect. For so long, I had drifted around Sarah’s orbit. She was always the one in control, the strong one, the one who could pull the strings and have people react and perform the way she wanted. It had always been Sarah and Caleb, and then maybe me off to the side.
Now, though, after seeing past the twenty-four-carat facade of her life, after hearing the whispered arguments, seeing the interaction between her and the rest of her acquired family, I thought that perhaps my sister wasn’t quite in control any longer. But here, right now, with Caleb at my side instead of Sarah’s, I felt like the one in control. This time, my sister could dance on the end of my strings.
“And what about you, Maisey? Alice mentioned you’re with Nurses Without Borders. Is it as exciting as it sounds?”
I laughed. “Not quite. I am a nurse, and lately I’ve been helping to set up clinics or orphanages...” I often got a little embarrassed explaining my job, although I wasn’t quite sure why. It was a noble profession, nursing, and I was proud of it, and of the work I did.
“Really? So when you’re not off saving the world, one remote medical clinic or orphanage at a time, and you’re not swanning it with the socially elite, where do you go? Where is home for you? I know it’s not with Alice.”
I shook my head, and tried not to shudder. No, my home was not with Alice. It hadn’t been since the day Frankie died and she was taken away in a squad car.
“I don’t really have a fixed address—apart from my email,” I joked. “I’ve been so busy I’ve just pretty much moved from project to project. This is the first time I’ve been back to the States in years. Nurses Without Borders usually has a job lined up for me at a site before the current one concludes, and I just move.”
“Well, I can relate to that. When I was in the army I moved five times in two years. Just packed up and headed out to wherever they needed me.”
We glanced at each other, and I think we were both surprised to see the similarity in our lives, but also to realize we shared an understanding that few could match.
After a moment, Caleb cleared his throat. “And you like the work?” he asked, looking down at me intently.
I nodded. “Yeah, I do.” I glanced down at the sand, shifting beneath our feet, and then the paved path appeared. Stability so close to volatility. A symbol of my life, really. “There is something about helping people,” I told him quietly, sincerely, and noticed that Lucy was also quiet now. “I love knowing that I’m doing something productive, but it’s more than that. I’m saving people’s lives. It’s humbling, and yet so uplifting, knowing that I can have such a profound impact on others’ lives. It’s addictive.” My lips twisted. And I would keep doing that work for as long as I could. For once, I was completely honest. This was more than a job for me. It was a vocation. My life’s mission, if you will. Help as many, save as many, as I could.
Caleb threw his arm around my shoulders, and dragged me to his side. “God, it’s so good to see you again, Maisey. I’ve missed this, so much.”
It took me a moment to process, so stunned was I at this admission, and then I relaxed against him, trying to lower my natural resistance.
It was a new kind of feeling, this closeness, and it took me a while to get past the surprise, the enjoyment.
Apart from that night Caleb had left, I couldn’t actually remember feeling this type of comfortable, loving touch of a family member since Alice went to prison.
I was surprised by how lovely it felt, so warm, so generous, so tender. I hoped I could get used to it.
Bridget places the phone beside my plate the next morning, frowning slightly at my meager breakfast. Since I hadn’t been able to choke down a bite of dinner the night before, I’d decided I could have a slice of cantaloupe with my scrambled egg whites. Nothing sweet had touched my lips since that humiliating episode at the East Hamptons fair, so I’d been fantasizing about how wonderful the fruit will taste. As soon as I see the notification on my phone, however, my appetite vanishes. Bridget must have heard it buzzing and assumed it was important.
Pushing my plate
