“She’s going to be in a lot of pain,” Nick said. “And most people might quit. But not Sybil. She’s a fighter, and she’s going to walk again.”
Thea wondered just what odds the doctor had quoted, but then she decided it didn’t matter. Nicky was right. Sybil was going to walk. She had to. They couldn’t be giving up everything just to see her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.
“I can work full-time in the summer,” Evvie said. “Move back here, so in the evenings I can help out with Sybil.”
“But then when would you see Sam?” Thea asked.
Evvie smiled. “I think that’s the kind of sacrifice Nicky meant,” she said. “Besides, if I can stay at Harvard, I’ll be with him there.”
“I’m glad I’m only fourteen,” Claire said. “By the time I’m old enough to have to do some sacrificing, Sybil will be healthy again.”
“Don’t count on it,” Thea muttered.
“Sybil’s first operation is scheduled for Thursday,” Nick said. “Barring complications.”
The telephone rang. Thea was delighted to have an excuse to get away from talk of surgery and raced to the phone.
“Thea Sebastian, please.”
“This is Thea,” she said. “Kip?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Good. I didn’t know what to say if someone else answered.”
“Kip, Sybil was in an accident,” Thea said. “She’s in the hospital.”
“I know,” he said. “One of the nurses told us on Saturday. I figured your family had enough going on without me, so I stayed away.”
“I’m glad you called, though,” Thea said. “I’ve missed you. I’ve thought about you a lot.”
“Listen, Thea, Gina died,” Kip said rapidly. “That’s why I’m calling. Yesterday afternoon.”
“Oh, God, no,” Thea said.
“It was okay, it was kind of peaceful at the end,” Kip said. “Mom was there, too. Gina fell asleep, and then, well, you could tell she’d died, but it was okay, it wasn’t noisy or anything.”
“Oh, Kip,” Thea said. “How are you doing?”
“You know me, I’m fine,” he replied. “Look, the funeral is tomorrow at one, and I wouldn’t even bother to tell you, but Mom’s been going on about it. How you were Gina’s friend and all. I keep trying to explain that you really weren’t, you were just a Friendly Visitor, and you have problems of your own right now, but I’m pretty sure the only way I can keep Mom sober for the funeral is if you’re there. She won’t show up drunk in front of you. You impress her too much. She thinks you’re a lady.”
“Of course I’ll come,” Thea said. “One o’clock. Where?”
“Chapman’s Funeral Parlor on Fourth Street,” Kip said. “Thanks, Thea. It’ll mean a lot to Mom.”
“Chapman’s,” Thea said. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“No,” Kip said. “I’m sorry to pull you away from your own problems.”
“It’s all right,” Thea replied. “You know how much I care about Gina.”
“Right,” Kip said. “Well, I’d better get off now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Thea heard him hang up. She put the phone down and walked back to the living room. “That was Kip,” she said. “Gina died yesterday. Her funeral is tomorrow at one, and I told him I’d be going.”
“You can’t,” Nick said.
“What are you talking about?” Thea asked. “Of course I can. I’ve missed school today, I can miss it tomorrow also.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Nick said. “My meeting is at one-thirty, and Daisy’s going to have to drive Evvie to the airport for a one-forty-five flight. We need you to visit Sybil tomorrow at one.”
“Why can’t Claire go?” Thea asked.
“Because they won’t let her in unescorted,” Nick said. “If you’re under sixteen, you have to come in with an adult.”
“Great,” Claire said. “It’s an R-rated hospital.”
“This is not a joking matter,” Nick said. “Sybil is in constant pain, and terrified about what’s ahead for her. We can’t let her have any time alone to brood about Thursday’s operation and the possibility of never walking again. Thea simply must be there tomorrow.”
“But, Nicky,” Evvie said.
“No,” Nick said. “Thea understands. Her first loyalty has to be to her family.”
“Oh, come on, now,” Evvie said. “I can get to the airport some other way.”
“Evvie, stop it,” Thea said. “Nicky, my first loyalty is to the family. But it’s not my only loyalty. Gina died, and Kip needs me at the funeral, and that’s where I’m going to be. I’ll get to Sybil’s room as soon as it’s over.”
“Thea, I’m ordering you to visit Sybil tomorrow at the time I say,” Nick said. “Call Kip back and explain to him you cannot go.”
“No, Nicky,” Thea said.
“That was an order,” Nick said.
“I heard it,” Thea replied. “And I’m ignoring it. I’m sorry, Nicky. All my life I’ve gone along with what you’ve said, and I haven’t questioned and I haven’t fought. That’s why I became a Friendly Visitor. Because of you. I’m still going along. You don’t want us to take outside help, fine. We’ll sell the house, we’ll move into some lousy apartment, I’ll get a job at Burger Bliss. You want me to wear rags, I’ll wear rags. But tomorrow at one, I’m going to be at Gina’s funeral, and there’s nothing you can say that will stop me. Nothing. I’ll go to the hospital as soon as I can, and I’ll stay with Sybil for as long as they let me, but you have a meeting, and Megs has to drive Evvie, and I have Gina’s funeral. That’s just the way it is.” She stared at Nicky and defied him to say another word.
Nicky stared right back. Thea waited for him to attack, but instead he nodded almost imperceptibly. “Don’t linger,” he said. “If they invite you to their home for cake and coffee say no.”
“I would anyway,” Thea said. She couldn’t believe it. She had actually won a battle against Nicky. She was right and he was wrong, and they both fought fair, and she’d won. Maybe Nicky was realizing the sacrifices he was going to have to make as well.
The next day, as Thea sat in a folding chair in Chapman’s Funeral Parlor’s smallest chapel, she wondered if the battle had been worth it. There were seven people there, Kip, his mother and Dani, Thea, and two nurses and a doctor Thea recognized from the hospital. She remembered how Scotty had been bused to a funeral, and wished someone had imported Gina’s school friends, just to cut down on the aching emptiness of the room.
Scotty was right about how boring funerals were, though. The minister spoke briefly about Gina and her courage in facing death at such a young age, but it didn’t take Thea long to realize that he’d never met Gina. One of the nurses got up then, and she did know Gina, and her words were tender and loving. Mrs. Dozier cried. Dani looked bored. Kip didn’t seem to be listening.
Then the minister got up again, and spoke about heaven and eternal peace and how Gina was there with the angels. In spite of herself, Thea smiled. She hoped all the angels Gina met were as handsome as the actors in TV Dreamstars.
Gina’s casket was open, and Thea glanced at it from time to time. Somehow the sight of Gina all made up and in a pink party dress that Mrs. Dozier probably bought for the occasion was less painful than looking at Kip or his mother or even Dani, who had managed to make her sister’s funeral yet another occasion for looking cheap.
As the minister led them in the Lord’s Prayer, Thea decided she hated funerals and would never go to another one again. She included her own. When the time comes, I’ll swim into the ocean, she decided, and fail to swim back. She was relieved when she realized the service had ended. The doctor murmured a few words to Mrs. Dozier and left. The nurses continued to stand by her side. Dani was staring into the coffin, and Kip walked out of the room.
Thea followed him. She found him standing outside the funeral parlor. He wasn’t crying, and she was glad. This is a fine occasion to repress all emotions, she thought.
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br /> “What happens next?” she asked.
“She’ll be cremated,” he said. “It was the cheapest way to go.”
“What are you going to do with the ashes?” Thea asked. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. Not about Gina, who had once been alive.
“I don’t know,” Kip said. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“You mean out of the funeral parlor?” Thea asked. It seemed to her he was out.
“Out of town,” he said. “Today. As soon as I can.”
“Why?” Thea asked. “What’s your hurry?”
“I’ve thought about it a lot,” Kip replied. “Since she died, I’ve hardly thought about anything else. Mom’s going to leave here and get drunk, and Dani will go out cruising. If I stay tonight, I’ll have to deal with them tomorrow, and then I’ll be stuck here and I’ll never escape. My bags are already packed. I have enough money for a bus ticket to New York and a couple of nights at a Y. I’ll get a job as soon as I get there, and then I’ll wait until next semester begins. I shouldn’t even be standing here talking with you. I should be home right now getting my bags before Mom starts saying she can’t survive without me, and Dani starts laughing and acting like a stupid, jerky kid I want to save. I mean, shake.”
“You mean save,” Thea declared.
“I can’t,” Kip said. “I can’t save anyone.”
“So you’re just going to run away,” Thea said. “Grab your bags and split, the same as your father.”
“It worked for him,” Kip said.
“What about me?” Thea asked. “Are you running away from me, too?”
“Thea, don’t,” he said.
“I have to,” she said. “We’ve been through so much together. You can’t deny our feelings.”
“We haven’t been through anything,” Kip said. “All we’ve done is watch Gina die. We’ve never been on a date together, or laughed, or watched the sun rise. Nine times out of ten, we’ve met in a hospital room, and most of our conversations had to do with Gina. You expect me to have feelings for you? The only feelings I had were for Gina. Nobody else. Right now all my feelings are ashes.”
“That’s not true,” Thea said. “I know you care for me. You can go, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. But you have to admit the truth. You have to admit you love me.”
Kip shook his head. “I don’t love anyone,” he said. “When I was a kid, I loved my mother, and the past few years I’ve loved Gina. Gina’s gone now, and in a lot of ways Mom is, too. Fine. That’s how it is. It’s no big deal. But I don’t love you, and that’s the truth. I’m sorry, Thea. I’d like to give you your fairy tale ending. I’d like to tell you I’m free now, and we can be together. I’d like to make love to you and share rainbows and secrets and all the other romance-book dreams you seem to have. Maybe if things had been different, I would have. Maybe not. Maybe I am like my father. I don’t know. I haven’t had the chance to find out. And I’m not going to find out with you.”
“Kip, you can’t do this to me,” Thea said. “Gina’s death hurts me, too. And Sybil …”
“Dammit, don’t you think I know that!” Kip shouted. “God, Thea, I’ve been sucked into taking care of everybody else for years and I can’t do it anymore. Not for you. Not for my mother or Dani or anyone. I’m gone, Thea. You think you’re talking to me, but you’re not. I’m out of here already.”
“No, Kip,” Thea cried. She put her hand on his arm, and tried to keep him by her side.
“Oh, Thea,” he said, and he started to cry. “Not now. I can’t. I just can’t.”
Thea willed herself not to cry also. “I’ll want to know where you are,” she said. “When you’re settled in New York, write to me.”
Kip nodded. He continued to cry. Thea yearned to hold him in her arms, comfort him, make up to him for all he’d had to endure, but she knew better. She knew he was right, that what she wanted was a fairy tale ending, and it wasn’t fair to ask him to come up with one.
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked. “I’ll stay if you need me.”
“I’m okay,” he said, and he tried to smile for Thea as he had for Gina. “I need to be alone. I need to be gone.”
“I know,” Thea said. She put her hands on his cheeks and wiped the tears away. “You take care. And you become a wonderful sculptor. I want to see your work in museums.”
Kip nodded. “I’ll stay in touch,” he said. “I need that, too.”
“I love you,” Thea said. “Just remember, that’s nothing to be scared of.” She stood on tiptoe, kissed him once, gently, on the lips, and walked away while she still had the strength to.
It was a twenty-minute walk to the hospital, and Thea used those twenty minutes to compose herself. She hadn’t seen Sybil since the accident, and she knew it would be hard, especially since they were going to be alone. Maybe Sybil would be asleep, but if she wasn’t, Thea couldn’t burst into tears at the sight of her, no matter how desperately she might want to.
“She’s going to walk again,” she repeated over and over as she walked. “Sybil’s going to be fine. We’ll get through this together as a family.” Families endured. Even the Doziers had in a way. And if they could, the Sebastians certainly could manage.
“I’m here to see Sybil Sebastian,” she told the nurse at the desk in Sybil’s ward. “Is she awake?”
“She has a visitor,” the nurse replied. “Please be quiet.”
“I will be,” Thea said. She couldn’t figure out who the visitor might be, unless Nicky had shifted his meeting so that Sybil wouldn’t be alone.
But instead of Nicky, Thea found Claire sitting by Sybil’s side. Claire had makeup on, and one of Megs’s dresses, and high-heeled shoes. She looked at least twenty-one and more beautiful than Thea had ever seen her.
“I snuck in,” she said cheerfully. “I figured I’d keep Sybil company until you got here.”
“Thank you,” Thea said. She couldn’t remember ever having thanked Claire before for anything, except passing the salt. “Hi, Sybil. How are you?”
“I hurt all over,” Sybil said, and she sounded almost like Sybil, although her mouth was swollen and her nose was bandaged. Both legs were in casts, and she had several tubes attached in the crook of her elbows. But she was still definitely Sybil. “I hurt, and I hate hospitals, and I want to go home.”
“I know,” Thea said, and she bent down to kiss her youngest sister. “We want you there, too. And you’ll get home soon enough. Won’t she, Claire?”
“I guarantee it,” Claire replied. “You have to, Sybil. We’re the Sebastians. We come as a matched set.”
Thea swallowed down all the tears she knew she’d be shedding that evening. Tears for Gina, and Kip, and Sybil, and all the others who hurt and needed. Tears for herself, too, for the Thea who used to be, and the Thea she was becoming. There’d be time enough that evening to cry. Now, she had to be grateful that she was alive, and so was Sybil, and they were both Sebastians, and the Sebastians could get through anything as long as they stuck together.
“You’re beautiful,” she said. “And I love you both, and I swear, no matter how hard it is now, things are going to get better.”
“Sure,” Sybil said. “Wanna tell me about the tooth fairy next?”
And Thea stood by her sisters and laughed.
Turn the page to continue reading from the Sebastian Sisters series
CHAPTER ONE
“What a dump.”
“Claire! Clark’s house is not a dump. Behave yourself.”
“Ouch, Evvie, that hurt,” Claire Sebastian said, rubbing her arm where her older sister Evvie had punched it. Fortunately, Claire was dressed for a December evening in Boston, and her many layers of clothing had softened the blow. Claire hoped she wouldn’t be black-and-blue as a result of her older sister’s enthusiasm.
“Christmas with the Christians,” Sam Steinmetz said. “My grandparents warned me it would come to this.”
Evvie gently slug
ged him as well. Sam didn’t seem to care about bruising and simply laughed.
“The two of you, behave yourselves,” Evvie whispered. “It’s very sweet of Clark to have us to his house for Christmas dinner.”
“Clark is sweet,” Claire replied. “That’s his sole function in life, to be sweet, especially to us.”
“And that’s exactly the kind of comment I want you to stop making,” Evvie said. “Think about the alternatives, Claire. Would you rather be in a motel room with Nicky and Megs? Or maybe spending Christmas with Aunt Grace is your idea of a good time.”
“Clark Bradford is no one’s idea of a good time,” Sam said.
“Maybe not,” Evvie said. “But he’s endurable.”
Claire looked at Evvie and Sam and laughed. “I love Christmas,” she said. “Full of family joy.”
“Togetherness,” Sam said. “That and Santa Claus. Or so I’ve heard.”
“Are you through?” Evvie asked. “Can I ring the doorbell now?”
Claire shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she declared. “I think I may have another couple of nasty remarks left inside me.”
“I know I do,” Sam said. “Evvie, let’s get out of here before the WASPs eat me alive. Come on. We can go back to our apartment, and call Clark from there, tell him I had a crisis of faith and we’re searching for a rabbi.”
“Where does that leave me?” Claire asked.
“You can convert,” Sam replied. “If Clark bothers you that much.”
Claire shrugged. “Nobody bothers me that much,” she said. “Clark’s a bore, that’s all. And he doesn’t like me because I look too much like Nicky. Evvie and Thea and Sybil he can think of as his dream daughters, because they all look like Megs. But not me. I’m pure Sebastian.”
“This is very moving,” Evvie said. “I’m touched, Sam, that you’re finally accepting your religion when I’m halfway through the conversion process. And I never thought I’d hear you say you were pure Sebastian, Claire. But it’s twenty-two degrees out here. I don’t want to go in, either,” she admitted. “But we told him we’d come.”
“Evvie’s the moral one in our family,” Claire said to Sam. “She’s definitely not pure Sebastian.”