you twisted that around to be my fault?” Samantha said, trying to follow the logic.
“Not your fault,” Emily contradicted, looking slightly sheepish. “I know they were Mom’s feelings.”
“But you couldn’t blame her, especially after she’d died, so you started taking it out on me,” Samantha concluded. “Oh, sweetie, the last thing Mom would ever want would be for the two of us to be at odds over which of us she loved more. I wish you’d said something about this years ago. Maybe we could have put it to rest.”
“How?” Emily asked with a sniff. “It was what it was. And Mom’s not here to deny it or explain it. Not that she could.”
Grateful that the outside deck at Castle’s was deserted, Samantha started to reach for Emily’s windblown hair to smooth it back from her face, then hesitated. She doubted her sister would appreciate the gesture just now.
“I wish Mom were here now, too, but you’re going to have to listen to me, instead. Gabi was still young, but I was old enough to remember the look on Mom’s face when she told us she was expecting you. She was over the moon, Em. She really was.”
Emily still looked skeptical. “Then why did she sound so disappointed about that job?”
“I can’t say for sure, since I didn’t hear her, but I do believe if she’d been thinking about going to work, it was only because she didn’t think another pregnancy was in the cards. She wanted the distraction of a job, not the fulfillment. Grandmother told me once that Mom was cut out for motherhood and that it was lucky for us that she was, since Dad was so caught up in his work.”
Emily looked as if she was struggling to accept the truth of Samantha’s words, but it was plain she was wasn’t there yet.
“I know that doesn’t match your perceptions, but you can ask Grandmother,” Samantha told her gently. “She knew exactly how thrilled Mom was about having you.” She grinned. “In fact, if anyone should have been jealous of losing Mom’s affections, it should have been me or Gabi. Once you came along, you became the center of her universe. She doted on you.”
“She did not,” Emily denied, though she looked intrigued by the possibility.
“Did, too,” Samantha retorted. “To make up for the attention Mom was giving you, I retreated into a world of make-believe, which is probably what led me to acting. Gabi became obsessed with trying to win Dad’s attention, and we both know how that turned out.”
“Seriously?”
“Think about it. You know it’s true.”
“Why didn’t I see any of that back then?” Emily asked.
“Because you were the youngest. And you were the princess. That’s heady stuff.”
“Are you saying I was self-absorbed?” Emily asked, instantly defensive.
“No, I’m just saying that your role in the family was defined for you by Mom, just the way mine was or Gabi’s. We each had a different experience growing up, even though we were in the exact same household.”
Emily’s expression turned thoughtful. “I heard Grandmother say something like that once. She said every sibling grows up in a different family. I had no idea what she meant.”
“And now?”
“After what you’ve just said, I think maybe I do.”
“Can we put this behind us?” Samantha pleaded. “Can you accept that I am genuinely thrilled for you and Boone, that I want to be in your wedding and that nothing is going to drive me away?”
“Not even the meddling?” Emily asked, the sparkle slowly coming back to her eyes.
“Well, you might not want to push your luck with that,” Samantha warned. “I’m feeling pretty mellow and tolerant right this second, but it might not last if you decide to test it.”
Emily nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
It wasn’t the airtight commitment Samantha had been hoping for, but it was a start. And with less than two weeks until the wedding and a mountain of details to attend to, perhaps the meddling would land on the bottom of Emily’s list.
* * *
“You don’t look so hot,” Debra said when Ethan arrived at the clinic. “Late night?”
He frowned at the personal question, though he knew it wasn’t in his bubbly young receptionist’s DNA to censor herself. “Busy morning,” he countered tightly. “What’s the schedule look like here?”
“Two drop-in patients waiting, more appointments on the books and your afternoon with the kids. Greg called in. He said he’d be here before you take off.”
Ethan nodded distractedly as he glanced through his messages. “Give me five minutes and have Pam send in the first patient,” he said just as he noticed that one of the pink slips had a message from Marty Gray indicating that Cass wouldn’t be coming on this afternoon’s hike with the rest of the kids in his positive self-image group. “Hold that. I need to call Marty back. I’ll let Pam know when I’m ready for the patients.”
In his office, he dialed Marty’s number. “Got your message,” he told the harried mother, who was most likely trying to get kids off to school. “What’s up with Cass?”
At seventeen, Cass was the oldest member of Project Pride. Two years ago, she’d lost her arm when it had been crushed in a riding mower accident. Though she managed well with her prosthesis, she was rebelling against everything these days. It was tough enough being a teen, he knew, without seeing herself as a damaged misfit. Cass and the others like her were precisely the kids he’d been hoping to help with his program. He wanted them to believe that their self-worth was not tied to any disabilities they might have. On occasion, he actually saw the irony of setting himself up as that particular messenger.
“Nothing new, really,” Marty said with frustration. “Could be the usual teen mood swing.”
“Or something happened at school,” Ethan guessed.
“Always a possibility,” Marty said. “But I have zero luck when it comes to getting her to open up. Teens can be notoriously tight-lipped, but Cass has raised the sullen silence to an art form.”
“Which is why she needs to be here this afternoon. It’s not just about going on a hike. It’s a chance for these kids to open up with other kids who’ll understand.”
“Ethan, I know that,” Marty said impatiently. “So does Cass. She says she won’t go. What am I supposed to do? Get my husband to drag her over there and leave her on your doorstep? Believe me, that holds a lot of appeal for me when she’s acting out, but it’s not up to you to deal with her moods or to fix this.”
“It may not be up to me, but I think I can help,” Ethan said. “Mind if I pick her up after school? I don’t think she’ll be able to say no if I’m right there.”
Marty hesitated. “Are you sure about this? She could be embarrassed in front of her friends. It could make things worse.”
“I
