Date: 1989-03-01 08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Young Adult
Description: When Claire fears her family might be falling apart, she knows she'll have to fight her own battles--and she plans to win Always the beauty of the family and often the most ambitious, Claire Sebastian doesn't feel sixteen, and she doesn't dream of romance--she dreams of diamonds. Diamonds and emeralds and anything else that will pay for the best doctors to treat her sister Sybil, now an invalid after a terrible accident. Claire knows that her cheekbones and charm are her best assets, but she'll also need a shrewd strategy if she's going to save her family from their financial troubles. And she
Publisher: Open Road Media
Rights: All rights are reserved.

Claire at Sixteen

The Sebastian Sisters, Book Three

Susan Beth Pfeffer

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 slugged 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.”

“I like her morality,” Sam said. “It keeps me honest.” He bent over, kissed Evvie, and then rang the doorbell for her.

Claire checked out the two of them, and smiled. Evvie was the oldest of the four Sebastian sisters. Next came Thea, a total loss as far as Claire was concerned, and then, following Claire, Sybil. Sybil was the one Claire loved, but Evvie was a close second, and the more she knew Sam, the fonder Claire was of him. Evvie and Sam had been in love for four years, and in another two they’d be getting married. Claire hoped they’d have a small wedding. Otherwise Evvie would insist on all of her sisters being bridesmaids, and the color dresses that would look good with Thea and Sybil’s washed-out blond prettiness would be a total waste for her own dark beauty.

“Girls! Come in! Sam, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

Clark Bradford had opened the door himself, and Claire soon found herself embracing him. This was the man everyone had assumed would marry Margaret Winslow, Claire’s mother. Certainly Clark had felt that way, as had Megs’s aunt Grace, who was raising her. But then, when Megs was sixteen, she’d met Nick Sebastian, and they had fallen in love twenty seconds later, and after an interminable courtship, had eloped, had four daughters, and settled into a life best described as romantic. Not perhaps the word Claire would have used for it, but the socially acceptable one in the family.

Meanwhile poor Clark stayed unmarried, always on the sidelines of Megs’s life, there for birthday presents and graduation gifts, and that horrible Thanksgiving two years back. The one that had started as a family celebration, because Nicky was in the money that year and they actually owned the house they were living in, and had ended with Sybil’s being hit by a car. Things had certainly gone downhill from there.

“Have you heard from your parents?” Clark asked, as he escorted them into the living room. Claire glanced at the room, with its Chippendale furnishings, Revere silver, and matched set of John Singer Sargent portraits, and thought about the trade-off. If Megs had married Clark, all this would be Claire’s. On the other hand, she might look like Clark, mousy and brownish, instead of having pure black hair and emerald green eyes and a perfect bone structure. Silver could be pawned and never redeemed, Claire decided, but high cheekbones lasted forever. On that count at least Megs had made the right choice.

“Megs called this morning,” Evvie said. “To wish us a merry Christmas. Nicky was already with Sybil.”

“They’re running tests on Christmas?” Clark asked.

Evvie shook her head. “Sybil has the day off from that, thank goodness,” she replied. “But they wouldn’t release her, not even for the day. I guess because she was only admitted there a couple of days ago.”

The doorbell rang simultaneously with the appearance of a butler in the living room. A maid had taken their coats, Claire realized, and began questioning how high a value she should place on her looks. All they were good for was for acquiring wealth. With Clark as her father, that job would already have been accomplished.

“Tell Mycroft what you want to drink,” Clark said, “while I see who that is.”

“I’d like some wine,” Sam said. “I don’t suppose you have any Manischewitz.”

“Sam,” Evvie said. “We’d both like some wine,” she said to the butler.

“There’s mulled wine already made,” Clark called from the front hall. “Mycroft, bring in five glasses. Claire, you drink wine, don’t you?”

“Whenever possible,” Claire said. She would have preferred to be offered champagne. Her family had toasted many a new home with champagne offerings from Clark.

At the door Clark said, “Scotty, come on in. Welcome. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Cousin Clark.”

Scotty Hughes joined Claire, Evvie, and Sam in the living room. “Hello,” he said, smiling at Evvie. “Boy that smells good.”

“It’s mulled wine,” Evvie said. “Take a glass.”

So Scotty did, after exchanging kisses with Evvie. “I didn’t realize you’d be here,” he said. “Hello, Sam, it’s good to see you.”

“Good seeing you, too, Scotty,” Sam said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Likewise,” Scotty said. “Claire. You’re looking beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. She took a sip of the wine, and let its warm sweetness cheer her up.

“So what are you doing here?” Scotty asked.

“We could ask the same of you,” Evvie pointed out. “Why aren’t you home for Christmas?”

“My parents aren’t back yet from Egypt,” Scotty replied. “They’ll be home in a few days. Clark was kind enough to invite me for Christmas dinner.”

“And where’s Schyler?” Evvie said.

“You had to ask?” Sam said.

Scotty and Claire laughed. Schyler was Scotty’s older brother, and the only serious competition Sam had had for Evvie’s heart. Claire had never met him, but according to Evvie, he was gorgeous. Sam’s jealousy was pretense, or at least so Evvie claimed.

“Schyler is skiing at Aspen,” Scotty said. “He’ll come back East when Mom and Dad get home. They’ll be here before New Year’s.”

“Maybe we’ll see him then,” Evvie said.

“Maybe you will,” Sam said. “I’ll be on Long Island visiting my grandparents by then, remember.”

“Holidays are so complicated,” Evvie complained. “Ordinarily, I’d be back home for Christmas, and so would Sam, only this year his grandparents are on a cruise until right before New Year’s, so we’re together now, and then on New Year’s we’ll be apart.”

“Now I am confused,” Scotty said. “Sam, did your grandmother remarry?”

“What?” Sam said, and then he laughed. “All right, now I understand. Not those grandparents, my other ones, the Greenes. They’re the cruise takers.”

“Mrs. Steinmetz died last year,” Evvie said. “I thought you knew, Scotty.”

“No one told me,” Scotty said. “Sam, I’m sorry. I liked your grandmother.”

“I did, too,” Sam said. “Thank you, Scotty.”

Claire felt left out. Evvie had met Sam, Scotty, and Schyler one summer four years before, which Evvie had spent at Aunt Grace’s summer home in Eastgate. Sam had been there with his Steinmetz grandparents, and Schyler and Scotty had been staying with Clark, who was their father’s cousin. Claire had spent that summer in a horrible mess of a house, cleaning and scrubbing and feeling like Cinderella, only without any handsome prince as a payoff. And at that, the house they’d lived in that summer was a palace compared to the apartment they were staying in now.

“So that explains why you’re here,” Scotty said. “And, Evvie, I suppose you want to be here with Sam. But, Claire, I would have thought you’d be with the rest of your family. And where’s Thea?”

“We’re scattered this year,” Evvie said. “Thea’s in New York, spending Christmas on campus.”

“So she can be closer to Kip Dozier,” Claire said, to see what effect it would have on Scotty.

She wasn’t disappointed. Scotty’s smile disappeared as soon as Kip’s name was mentioned. Claire tried not to laugh out loud. Men were so predictable. Scotty had fallen in love with Thea that awful Thanksgiving two years back. Claire would never understand why, since Thea was a boring, whiny nothing, and Scotty, while not great, was rich and socially prominent, and had the potential to be good-looking. Meanwhile, Thea had fallen in love with Kip, who was poor and miserable, although admittedly handsome. What made the story especially delicious, though, was that Kip didn’t love Thea back. Claire could have had him, but it hadn’t been worth the effort just to annoy Thea. There were easier ways to do that. And since Kip wanted to be a sculptor, and might never have any money, Claire couldn’t see wasting her time making him fall in love with her.

“That surprises me,” Scotty said. “That Kip should stay in New York, rather than go home for the holidays.”

“Well, Kip doesn’t have any real family anymore,” Claire said. “He hardly speaks to his mother, and Dani—you remember his sister Dani, Scotty?—she’s out in L.A. now making porno flicks.” Claire couldn’t resist a smile as she watched Scotty turn red. That Thanksgiving, apparently, Sam had walked in on Scotty and Dani going hot and heavy in the kitchen of all places. It had taken Claire a fair amount of eavesdropping to learn that little secret, and since she wasn’t supposed to know it, she had the option of saying all kinds of blithely tactless things. Claire loved a good secret.

“We don’t know that they’re porn,” Evvie said. “You remember Dani, Scotty. She was always dreaming of glory.”

“That’s one word for it,” Sam said. “Anyway, Thea’s in New York with him.”

“And Claire’s here because Nicky and Megs aren’t home for Christmas, either,” Evvie said. Claire loved the way Evvie could change the topic. All the girls were good at it. They’d learned how when they were young, in case anybody asked a potentially embarrassing question about Nicky’s finances, but Evvie was the best at it. “They’re with Sybil.”

“She’s at a new rehab place,” Claire said, and she was no longer joking, because Sybil’s health was the only really important thing in the Sebastian family as far as she was concerned.

“Sybil’s recovery hasn’t been going as swiftly as Nick might want,” Clark declared. “So when this new place was recommended to them, they decided to give it a try.”

“And this week was the first time the rehab center had an opening,” Claire said. “It’s in Oregon, so they’re in Oregon for Christmas. Nicky and Megs are staying at a motel nearby, and Sybil’s at the rehab center.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun for anybody,” Scotty said. “How is Sybil doing, Evvie?”

“Claire knows best,” Evvie said. “She’s the one who’s still living at home.”

Claire thought about Sybil and wished she were in Oregon. The thought of spending the holidays cooped up in a ratty motel with her parents had nauseated her, and she’d leaped at Evvie’s invitation to visit with her through Christmas, but it hurt to be apart from Sybil. Especially when Sybil was being rammed through yet another battery of tests. The testing always hurt Sybil the most, not just the physical pain, but getting her hopes up, only to have them smashed again, and then living with Nicky’s disappointment afterward. The tests were inevitably Nicky’s idea. Why not. He wasn’t the one who suffered.

“Sometimes she uses a walker,” Claire said. “On her good days, she can get around with half crutches.”

“Oh,” Scotty said. “I would have thought she’d be further along by now. It’s been two years.”

“The damage to her legs was extensive,” Evvie said. “Don’t forget, at first the doctors didn’t think she’d walk at all.”

“This is the third rehab place Nicky’s taken her to,” Claire said. “I guess if this one is any good, we’ll be moving to Oregon.”

“Nick certainly is devoted to Sybil,” Clark said. “Of course, Meg is as well.”

“Nicky’s the one doing the pushing,” Evvie said. “For better or worse. Clark, this mulled wine is delicious. And dinner smells so tempting.”

“I hope you like goose,” Clark said. “I thought we’d have a traditional Christmas feast.”

“Just as I suspected,” Sam said. “My goose is cooked.”

“Not yet, I hope,” Clark said. “We’re having one more guest for Christmas.”

“Not Aunt Grace,” Evvie said. “Oh, Clark, please, not Aunt Grace.”

“Not Grace,” Clark replied. “Although you and Claire really should visit her.”

“I do,” Evvie said. “Once a year, I go to the mausoleum and check up on her.”

“Once a year is hardly enough,” Clark said. “You’re going to Harvard, Evvie. You live only twenty minutes away from Grace. She’s an old woman, and she enjoys your visits so.”

Evvie laughed. “She hates my guts,” she said. “And I’m not wild about hers. But you’re right, Clark, Claire and I should see her. We’ll go in a day or two.”

“Thanks for volunteering me,” Claire said. She had a fondness for Aunt Grace, based mostly on the fact that Aunt Grace couldn’t stand Nicky and neither could Claire. But Aunt Grace couldn’t stand Claire, either, because of her resemblance to Nicky.

“I wish you would be a bit kinder about her,” Clark said. “Grace Winslow is the only real family your mother has, except for Nick and you girls. And it isn’t as though Nick supplied her with any in-laws.”

“We’re family enough,” Evvie said. “Right, Claire?”

“I don’t know,” Claire said. “I think a bit more family could come in handy. Right, Sam?”

“Don’t look at me,” Sam replied. “I’m down to two grandparents and an aunt.”

“I have family,” Scotty said. “Parents and grandparents and a brother and aunts and uncles and cousins, and with all that, I’m spending Christmas here.”

“Thanks a lot, Scotty,” Clark said. “It’s flattering to be twelfth choice.”

Claire laughed, and then so did everybody else. Claire knew she had that power. If she’d wept, she suspected, everyone else in the room would have burst into tears. Scotty, she could see, was admiring her. She would never touch Sam, but Scotty was a different question. How would Thea react if Scotty fell out of love with her, and in love with Claire? Probably not well. Thea was a good deal more territorial than she cared to admit. Claire smiled at the thought. Something amusing might as well happen during Christmas. She was sixteen, and it was about time her life got interesting.

The doorbell rang, and Clark’s face lit up brighter than his ever-so-tasteful Christmas tree. “The final guest has arrived,” he said. “This is my wonderful surprise for all of you.”

Sybil? Claire thought, but she knew that was crazy. Sybil was three thousand miles away being pounded on by crazed orthopedic specialists. And not Aunt Grace, either. Perhaps the legendary Schyler Hughes had decided to forego skiing at Aspen to get one last chance at Evvie.

But it wasn’t Schyler at all.

“Thea!” Evvie cried, and the two sisters were hugging as though it had been years since they’d last seen each other. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in New York?”

“Kip’s drinking again,” Thea said, taking her coat off so she might hug Evvie again. “I told him I wasn’t going to put up with that, and if he wanted me there, he was just going to have to stop.”

“And what did he say?” Scotty asked from his chair in the living room.

“He poured himself another drink,” Thea admitted. “Oh, well. I called Clark in tears, and he told me to take the next shuttle out. So here I am. Clark, thank you. This is so sweet of you, to have us all here like this.”

“I couldn’t be happier,” Clark said, placing his right arm around Thea and his left around Evvie. “To have you and Evvie, and you too, Claire, here with me for Christmas.”

Claire glanced at Sam and realized he was looking at her with some strange expression—pity, maybe, or compassion—until he realized she was looking and grinned sardonically instead. “The eternal outsiders,” he whispered.

“I like being outside,” Claire whispered back. “It’s less suffocating.” She turned away from Sam and checked out Scotty. He had his traditional mushy-about-Thea look. The very sight of him made Claire smile. With Thea around, this was definitely a Christmas to make things interesting.

CHAPTER TWO

“I wish Sam would get here,” Evvie grumbled as she stared out the window of the apartment she shared with Sam.

“Relax,” Thea said. “He’ll be here on time.”

“I know,” Evvie said. “But he’s going to forget to buy the bread. I keep telling him to make a list and take it with him, but he claims he doesn’t need to, that he can remember what has to be bought. And then he always forgets.”

Claire laughed. “You sound like an old married couple,” she said.

“Nicky and Megs don’t sound that way,” Thea declared.

“They don’t have to,” Claire replied. “There’s not enough grocery money for either of them to forget.”

“How bad are things?” Evvie asked. “I always get the feeling Megs is telling me half-truths, and Nicky, well, he isn’t even that close.”

“Nicky and Megs don’t lie,” Thea said. “They just don’t want us to worry.”

“They lie,” Evvie said. “Claire, what’s it like, really?”

Claire shrugged. “It’s okay,” she said. “We’re not starving.”

“I didn’t think you were,” Evvie replied. “But I’d still like to know just how things are.”

Claire thought about it. Her family had had times when they were very rich, mostly when Claire was too young to appreciate it. They’d had times when they were one step away from disaster, with last-minute moves from state to state. They’d had times when Nicky’s deals were just starting to go through, and everything was full of promise, and they’d had times when Nicky’s deals fell through and everything was full of despair. From birth to age fourteen, Claire figured, she’d survived every financial situation imaginable. But the past two years were beyond any nightmare she could have imagined.

“Look,” she said. “Things are bad. You know that. You’ve seen the place we’re living in now. You saw what we had for Thanksgiving dinner. The money Clark and Aunt Grace send me for Christmas and my birthday goes to clothes, because otherwise I wouldn’t get anything new. I like clothes. I miss buying new shoes. I don’t remember the last time Megs got anything for herself, and even Nicky’s looking a little ratty. But it’s okay. It’s for Sybil.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Thea said. “Why aren’t you complaining, or blaming Nicky?”

“There’s no point in complaining,” Claire replied. “Besides, I don’t intend to be poor a minute longer than I have to. And sure, some of it is Nicky’s fault. He keeps pushing Sybil, moving us around the country, going from rehab center to rehab center, trying to find the one with the miracle cures. If he’d just pick one, so we could settle down, he might start making deals again, and maybe all of this would end. But none of them is good enough for him, so he keeps on hunting. Sybil hates it, but he’s doing it because he loves her. Even I know that. Sybil’s always been his favorite, and he wants her walking again, no crutches, no canes, no limps. So does Megs. So do I. So does Sybil. And maybe one of the places will be the miracle place, and it’ll all be worth it. What do you care? You have your scholarship, you have your life. What difference does it make to you?”

“I care because I love Sybil,” Thea said. “And Nicky and Megs, and I worry about them.”

“We worry about you, too, Claire,” Evvie said. “I know how bad it is for you to be stuck there. I know how obsessed Nicky can get. I wish I were older. I wish I were through with school, so I could do something more to help.”

“It’s okay,” Claire said, already regretting having told them so much. It didn’t matter with Thea, who never understood, anyway. But Evvie had a way of seeing through her, a way of caring about her, that Claire wasn’t especially comfortable with. The way Sam had connected the night before. They couldn’t do anything to improve matters, so who cared what they felt. “Actually, it’s better than that. Sybil is getting stronger, and Nicky and Megs have less time to make gaga eyes at each other. You know, Megs is almost bearable nowadays. We all take turns doing the physical therapy with Sybil, and Megs is the best at it. I like her for that.” She felt again as though she had revealed too much, but she didn’t know what else to say. Evvie and Thea were Sybil’s sisters, too, after all, and they loved her and worried about her almost as much as Claire did.

“I wish I had the money for another visit,” Evvie said. “I wanted to go while Sam’s visiting his grandparents, but I couldn’t take the time off from work. And who can afford the airfare to Oregon. So I’ll be stuck here, while Sam’s on Long Island. I can’t tell you how much I’m going to miss him.”

“Why don’t you go to Long Island with him?” Thea asked. “At least for the weekend.”

“No thank you,” Evvie said. “Sam isn’t looking forward to going home, either. The Greenes have never been crazy about me, and things have gotten worse since I began the conversion lessons.”

“I’d think that would make things better,” Thea said. “Do you want me to start cutting up the vegetables for salad?”

“Yes, please,” Evvie replied. “If the Greenes were sane, that might improve things. But they’re so protective of Sam, worse than Nicky is with Sybil, if you can believe it. They kept hoping we weren’t really serious, that it was just puppy love. We’ve been together for four years, and they still keep hoping we don’t mean it. But with me converting, it makes things official. I become Jewish, we get engaged, and then the minute I graduate, we get married. Sam wants us to get married this year, after he graduates, and I’d like to, too, but his grandparents are insisting we wait until I have my degree. They worry that I’m just with Sam for his money, that he’ll be stuck with my debts the minute we get married. And they’re also hoping that he won’t be able to get a job in Boston, so we’ll have to spend next year apart. I know it’s nothing like what Nicky and Megs went through, but sometimes I just want to scream. Only I can’t. It isn’t like Sam has any other family. They’re what he’s stuck with and Nicky and Megs are what I’m stuck with, and in a minute I’ll start crying, and I just know he won’t remember to buy the bread.”

“So we’ll bake some,” Thea said. “You know, the way Megs always seems to bake a loaf just when you really want one.”

“She doesn’t anymore,” Claire said. “She baked for Thanksgiving, but that’s been it. We buy day-old at the supermarket. She says it’s cheaper.”

“Now I really am going to cry,” Evvie declared. “Merry Christmas, everybody.”

“Claire’s exaggerating,” Thea said. “Aren’t you, Claire? You know how Claire loves to complain.”

“I’m not exaggerating and I’m not complaining,” Claire replied. If Thea hadn’t been armed with a vegetable knife, Claire might have gone after her. “I don’t mind store-bought bread. I never understood why Megs went around baking all the time. All I’m saying is between tutoring Sybil, and doing her exercises, and living off the trust fund checks, we buy day-old bread. Big deal. Do you want me to set the table?”

“Please,” Evvie said. “Don’t forget a setting for Scotty.”

“I won’t,” Claire said. It had been her idea to invite Scotty over for supper. She still had to decide whether to sit next to him, so they could talk more easily, or across the table from him, so he’d have to look at her. Next to him, she thought. He already knew what she looked like. It was about time he got to know her.

Of course Thea would probably sit on his other side, and Scotty, fool that he was, would want to talk with her. But knowing Thea, all she’d talk about was Kip and his problems. Not a topic Scotty would want to discuss over dinner or anywhere else.

“I hope spaghetti with meat sauce isn’t too much of a cliché,” Evvie said, stirring the pot. “It’s the only thing I know how to cook, and with Sam out all day, working on the school paper, I figured I’d better make something safe.”

“It’s a feast,” Thea said. “Sometimes I go to Kip’s apartment and make it for him and his roommates.”

“How many roommates does he have?” Evvie asked.

“There are four altogether,” Thea said, “sharing three rooms in a neighborhood that Nicky would kill me for walking in. But sometimes I think if I don’t take care of Kip, he won’t take care of himself.”

“He isn’t drinking that heavily, is he?” Evvie asked.

“No,” Thea said. “He just gets involved with his art, and school, and his job. He doesn’t have time for anything else. He doesn’t have time for me, either, or so he keeps telling me, but I don’t mind. I’d rather grab a few minutes with him than worry about how he is all the time.”

Evvie rolled her eyes, and Claire tried not to laugh.

“I know,” Thea said. “You think I’m crazy. But Kip needs me. At least, he needs someone, and I’m the one who’s there.”

“You should be dating other boys,” Evvie said.

“You’re a fine one to talk,” Thea replied. “You met Sam and ten seconds later, you were engaged.”

“Twenty seconds,” Evvie said. “The first ten seconds, I was checking Schyler out.”

“I’d like to meet Schyler someday,” Claire said. “Does he look anything like Scotty?”

“Not really,” Evvie said. “About as much as you and I look alike. You know, that vague family resemblance you can’t really explain. Schyler has more your kind of look, Claire. Dark coloring, high cheekbones. He’s much handsomer than Scotty.”

“Handsomer than Sam?” Claire asked.

“Infinitely,” Evvie replied. “As I frequently remind Sam.”

“I think it’s terrible the way you tease him,” Thea said. “I never tease Kip. And Megs never teases Nicky. And don’t say she does now, Claire, because we’ll know you’re lying.”

“I wasn’t going to say a thing,” Claire said.

“You are sniping a lot, Thea,” Evvie said. “Any particular reason?”

“I’m just worried,” Thea said. “About Nicky and Megs and Sybil out there in Oregon. And about Kip. I never should have left him alone yesterday.”

“It sounds like he wanted to be alone,” Claire said.

“Oh shut up, Claire,” Thea said. “What do you know about things, anyway?”

“I know enough not to waste my time with cold, hostile rejecting drunks,” Claire replied. “Or with cold, hostile rejecting sisters.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Evvie said. “I wish Sam would show up.”

“Sam isn’t the answer to everything,” Thea said.

“No, but without him there’s no garlic bread,” Evvie replied.

Claire laughed, and as she did, the buzzer sounded. “I’ll get it,” she said, and ran to the door to buzz Scotty in.

She could hear his footsteps, and then a second pair raced to join him. Scotty and Sam ended up coming through the living room door together.

“Sam,” Evvie said. “Did you remember the bread?”

“No, dammit, I didn’t,” Sam admitted. “I thought you were going to call to remind me.”

“You said you wouldn’t need reminding,” Evvie said. “Honestly, Sam, you do this all the time.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Look, I’ll go around the corner and get a loaf.”

“Don’t bother,” Claire said. “I could use the air. Come with me, Scotty. I’ll get my coat right now.”

“All right,” Scotty said. “Where’s Thea?”

“In the kitchen, moping about Kip,” Claire said. “You’re better off with me.”

“Claire,” Evvie said, but then she grinned. “Who knows, maybe you’re right. Get a loaf of Italian bread, and maybe you should buy some butter as well.”

“Fine,” Claire said. She put her coat on, and slipped her arm through Scotty’s. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

“Maybe two,” Scotty said. He smiled at Claire, which she decided was a good sign, and the two of them left the apartment.

“I had to escape,” Claire told him, as they walked outside. “Thea was going on and on about Kip. You know how she does.”

“Believe me, I know,” Scotty said. “I can’t figure out what she sees in him.”

Claire couldn’t figure out what Scotty saw in Thea, but knew better than to ask. “How long will you be staying with Clark?” she asked instead.

“Until Wednesday,” Scotty said. “My parents and Schyler will both be arriving then, and we’ll spend the long weekend together, before Schyler and I have to go back to school.”

“That must be so strange,” Claire said. “Seeing as little of your parents as you do.”

“I’m used to it,” Scotty said. “Dad’s always traveled on business, and Mom likes to go with him. I started boarding school when I was nine, the same as Schyler. Same school for that matter, so he was around, if I really needed someone.”

“Are you close?” Claire asked.

“Not especially,” Scotty said. “I’ve never been really close to anybody until I started college. Now I have friends. As a matter of fact, one of them called me today. She’s home from school, and she’s having a terrible time with her parents, so she called me at Clark’s, sobbing and moaning. I even gave her Evvie’s number, in case she has to talk to me tonight.”

“That’s really nice of you,” Claire said. “I wish I had a friend like that.”

“You have your sisters,” Scotty said. “You always know you can turn to them.”

“But friends are good, too,” Claire replied. “When I was younger, we lived in the same towns sometimes for more than a year and then I’d make friends. I’d lose them as soon as we left, but at least for a while I’d have some. But since Sybil’s accident, we haven’t stayed anywhere very long, and all my spare time goes to Sybil, anyway. I miss having friends, the way you must miss having your family around.”

“I’m your friend,” Scotty said. “You can count on me, Claire.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. “Oh, here’s the grocery.” She led Scotty in, and soon they’d purchased the bread and butter. Scotty insisted on paying for them, and Claire didn’t protest. False pride was not an issue.

“You’re different from Thea,” Scotty said as they left the store.

“I know,” Claire replied. “I’m the bad sister.”

“I don’t think that at all,” Scotty said. “On the contrary. Thea’s always thinking about herself, her world. It’s always her sisters, her parents, her relationship with Kip. I think I told you more about me in the past five minutes than I’ve told Thea in two full years.”

“Thea has no idea how special you are,” Claire said. At best, if they walked very slowly, they’d be back at the apartment within three minutes. She wondered if she should fake twisting her ankle, but decided against it. Not subtle enough. Scotty would be sure to see through it.

“You’re so beautiful,” Scotty said. “I told Thea once I thought you were too beautiful, the way Schyler is. He’s full of himself because of his looks, but you’re not that way at all. You don’t put on airs or force people to admire you. Of course, neither does Thea, and she’s very pretty. But you’re something special. How old are you now, Claire?”

“Sixteen,” Claire said. “Going on twenty-nine.”

“I’ll bet,” Scotty said. “You must have a lot of guys chasing after you.”

“I don’t want them,” Claire said. “I don’t want a man who can’t see past my looks. I want someone who really knows me, and understands me, and cares about me. You must feel that way sometimes, Scotty. You have such a wonderful facade, money and sophistication. But underneath, you’re sweet and caring, and I think you’re lonely too.”

“And cold,” Scotty said. “Very cold.”

“I’m sorry,” Claire said. “I must sound awfully silly. It’s just, it drives me crazy the way Thea treats you. She’s a fool not to see you for who you are.”

“And I’m a fool for sticking with her?” Scotty asked.

Claire had the feeling she was the fool for trying to accomplish so much in a block and a half. Time and distance were definitely winning over beauty and ambition.

“No,” she said. “You’re very sweet and dear.” It seemed to her she’d heard Katharine Hepburn say that in a movie once. If it worked on Cary Grant, it might work on Scotty Hughes.

It did. “Claire,” he murmured, and she found herself being kissed by him under the streetlight that illuminated Sam’s building. Another thirty seconds and she would have lost.

“Oh, Scotty,” she said. “Scotty, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” he said, breaking away. “Sorry for what?”

“I never meant …” Claire said. “I mean, I know how you feel about Thea. I never wanted …”

“We both know how Thea feels about me,” Scotty said. “Maybe it’s about time she learned she doesn’t own me.”

“Oh, no,” Claire said. “Scotty, I won’t be a pawn in some game you’re playing. And I refuse to hurt Thea. She’s the one you love, not me.” That should throw him, she thought contentedly.

“You can’t love someone forever who doesn’t love you back,” Scotty declared.

“Thea can,” Claire said. “She loves Kip that way.”

“Then she’s the fool,” Scotty said. “But I’m not. Claire, I never meant to hurt you. I kissed you because you’re beautiful under the night sky. And besides, I thought I saw some mistletoe hanging from that lamppost.” He pointed up at it, and when Claire looked up as well, he kissed her again.

Two points for Scotty! Claire thought. “Oh, Scotty, I’m half in love with you, you know,” she whispered.

“Only half?” he asked.

“That’s all I ever dared be,” Claire replied. “I guess I’m just a coward.”

“That’s all right,” Scotty said. “Because it took all my courage to kiss you.”

Claire smiled at him. Scotty had obviously taken notes from the same movies she had. “We’d better get upstairs before they start wondering,” she said.

Scotty nodded. “I think we may have melted the butter.”

Claire smiled, and then, shyly, she squeezed Scotty’s hand with hers.

“Claire,” he said. “Oh, Claire.” And he kissed her again.

Claire remembered that Evvie had liked the way Schyler kissed. Did they teach kissing at prep school, she wondered, or was it a family skill? It didn’t matter. Scotty knew what he was doing. Thea really was a fool.

“Enough,” Claire murmured.

“You really think so?” Scotty asked.

Claire laughed out loud. There was a chance she might actually enjoy Scotty, in addition to driving Thea crazy. “I’m going up,” she said. “I suggest you join me.”

“Claire,” Scotty said. “Is this all we’re going to do? I mean have. This moment, is this it?”

“That’s up to you,” Claire said, not really caring whether he believed her. She pressed the doorbell and then scurried up the stairs, with Scotty following her.

“What took so long?” Evvie asked.

“The sidewalk was icy,” Claire replied. “Scotty had to keep me from tripping.”

“Hi, Scotty,” Thea said. “Put the bag on the counter.”

“Hi, Thea,” he said, and Claire sensed a new coolness in his tone. “How has your day been?”

“Pretty bad,” Thea said. “I’ve been mean to everyone, Evvie says. It’s because I’m worried about Kip.”

“No more Kip!” Evvie cried. “Not for tonight, please, Thea.”

“I can’t help it that I worry,” Thea said, and Claire hoped she’d keep worrying as loudly and frequently as possible. She hung her coat up, not minding that it was three years old and looked it, because Scotty hadn’t noticed. And if he ever did, she’d make it work for her. Poor brave sympathetic Claire. He didn’t stand a chance.

The telephone rang, and Sam picked it up. “I think so,” he said, and then he cupped his hand over the receiver. “Scotty, I think it’s for you,” he said. “If you’re Prescott Hughes.”

“That must be Jennifer,” Scotty said. “The girl I told you about.”

“Prescott?” Evvie said.

“Prescott,” Scotty replied, reaching for the phone. “You’re the only people who still call me Scotty.”

“What kind of name is Prescott?” Claire asked. She wished she’d known before. She could have called him that when they kissed.

“It’s my grandfather’s name,” he said. “My mother’s father. Sebastian Prescott. Hi, Jennifer. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Evvie dropped the wineglasses she was carrying to the table. One of them broke, while the other rolled harmlessly toward the sofa. She was pale, Claire noticed, and shaking.

“Are you all right?” Claire asked her, as Sam retrieved the unbroken glass, and Thea brought out the dustpan.

“I’m fine,” Evvie said. “Really I am. Don’t fuss, Claire. It doesn’t become you.”

“Right,” Claire said. “Sure.” She backed off and watched as Evvie tried to get herself back in control. Something very strange had just happened, and Claire had the feeling it would be to her benefit to find out what it was.

CHAPTER THREE

Claire waited until she was sure Thea was asleep, and then slipped out of the sofa bed they were sharing and tiptoed to Evvie and Sam’s bedroom door. Thea was a heavy sleeper. They all were, except for Claire, who had figured out early on that the best way of finding out just what was happening was by pretending to be asleep.

She hoped Evvie and Sam wouldn’t be too considerate of their houseguests and conduct their conversation in whispers. Their door was closed, and she didn’t dare open it. All she could do was press her ear to the wall and pick up what she could.

“Will you calm down?”

Bingo! Claire settled in for further revelations.

“I am calm.”

“You’re as calm as a tornado.”

“I’m calmer than I was, all right?”

“All right, I grant you that,” Sam said. “At least, you’ve stopped breaking glasses.”

“Was I real obvious?” Evvie asked. “I couldn’t help myself, I was just so shocked.”

“Thea didn’t notice anything,” Sam said. “And I don’t think Scotty did, either.”

“What about Claire?”

“You can never tell with Claire,” Sam replied. “She never really lets you see her.”

Claire wondered if that was a compliment in Sam’s world. She hoped so.

“They can’t understand what it meant,” Evvie said. “I barely understand what it means.”

“It doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Sam said. “It could be a coincidence.”

“Two Sebastian Prescotts? Forget it. And you know, there was always something familiar about Schyler. Now I know why.”

“You’re really pushing it,” Sam said. “And you’re wound up over nothing, even if it isn’t a coincidence. What difference does it make?”

“I don’t know,” Evvie said. “It startled me. Think how you’d feel if someone mentioned Linda Steinmetz casually in your presence.”

“Nobody mentions Linda Steinmetz casually,” Sam declared.

Who’s Linda Steinmetz? Claire wondered. Some relative of Sam’s, she assumed, but how did she figure in all this? And why wasn’t Evvie being more specific about Sebastian Prescott? Did she expect Claire to do all the work?

“I guess as long as nobody knows, it doesn’t matter,” Evvie said. “I wonder if Clark does. No, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t have been throwing Schyler at me that summer if he’d known.”

“I’d like to throw Clark at something someday,” Sam declared. “Now that we’ve decided nobody knows, and therefore nobody cares, how about getting a little sleep? Tomorrow’s my last day before I have to head home, and I’d like you to be awake for it.”

“Oh, Sam,” Evvie said. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “Relax. Tomorrow none of this will seem important.”

“I can’t relax,” Evvie said. “I’m going to get myself a glass of wine. Would you like some?”

“No thanks,” Sam said. “Hurry back, okay? This bed is cold without you.”

“Think how it’ll feel when you’re gone,” Evvie said.

Claire used the romantic moment as an opportunity to slide back into the sofa bed. Thea continued to sleep, and Claire closed her own eyes, and breathed deeply. Evvie didn’t even look at them, just crossed the room to the kitchen. Claire sneaked a look at her, but Evvie was no longer shaking, and the wineglass she held looked secure. Claire felt annoyed. All she’d really found out was that something indeed was wrong with Scotty’s grandfather, that somehow Schyler was involved, and that nobody talked about Linda Steinmetz casually. And the Linda Steinmetz business was useless as far as she could see.

The link was the name Sebastian. It wasn’t that common, either as a first name or a last. Sebastian Prescott was Scotty’s mother’s father, so maybe Sebastian was an old family name, too, Scotty’s grandfather’s mother’s maiden name. That could make Nicky a distant relative of Scotty’s mother. Third or fourth cousins.

Claire tried to remember what Nicky had told them about his family. Not much. It was never his favorite topic of conversation. Thea used to get the most out of him about it, but Claire hadn’t paid all that much attention. The Winslows had always interested her, because the Winslows had money, but Nicky’s family had been poor.

Or had they? Claire propped herself on her elbow and thought about what she knew. Nicky never really talked about his parents’ background, which Claire had assumed meant they were pretty sleazy. Nicky wasn’t one for downplaying a good connection. His parents met, somewhere, somehow, and his father fought in World War II and died on D-day, along with thousands of other soldiers. That was pretty much it for the Sebastian side. Nothing about aunts or uncles or grandparents. Maybe his father was an orphan. Claire’s family history was littered with them, so it wouldn’t surprise her to find out Nicky’s father had been one, too.

But what if he hadn’t been. What if he had all those aunts and uncles and cousins other people, people like Scotty, had in droves. What if somehow Nicky’s father was related to Sebastian Prescott. They could have been first cousins.

Claire tried to think what good having a rich cousin on his father’s side would have been for Nicky. Probably not much. And if there’d been any kind of social position in Nicky’s family, he would have used it to convince Aunt Grace when he’d been courting Megs.

But the names were the same, and Evvie was upset. Evvie didn’t upset easily. And it was something Clark might know about, only he didn’t. Which meant there was a secret, and it was a big one, and somehow Evvie knew, and she’d told Sam, but she hadn’t told Claire, or Thea, or presumably Sybil.

Claire realized that that was the most startling thing of all. It had never occurred to her that Evvie might keep things from her sisters. Thea told everything to everybody, and Sybil told Claire all the things that mattered. Claire kept things to herself, but the others accepted that. Evvie, though, Evvie had always seemed pretty straightforward. But she wasn’t. She knew something about Sebastian Prescott that worried her, and she knew something about Linda Steinmetz as well.

Claire turned over with a sigh. Whatever was going on, Evvie wasn’t about to tell her, and Thea obviously didn’t know. Her best bet was Sam, and she’d try him in the morning.

So the next morning, when Claire heard Sam get up, she roused herself, and went into the kitchen to put on some coffee. Sam loved coffee, so that would be a good start.

“Claire,” he said. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m a light sleeper,” she replied. “I heard you, and I knew I wouldn’t fall back asleep. Do you mind the company?”

“Not at all,” Sam said. “Thanks for putting up the coffee. Evvie’s still out. She can sleep through anything.”

“Thea and Sybil are the same way,” Claire replied. “It comes from sharing rooms all those years.”

“You shared, too,” Sam pointed out.

“I’m different,” Claire said. “I’m like Nicky. He doesn’t need much sleep, either.”

Sam nodded. “Do you want anything for breakfast?” he asked. “There’s leftover garlic bread, and I think there’s half a cheese Danish lying around somewhere.”

“I’ll pass,” Claire said. “Why are you up so early?”

“Nerves,” he replied. “I get nervous when I know I’m going back home. I don’t know why. I lived there fourteen years and I was never nervous. Actually, that isn’t true. When I’d spend the summers with my other grandparents, right before I’d leave Long Island, I’d be a wreck, and then, before I’d go back home, I’d be a wreck all over again. I forget that sometimes. Things with Evvie are so easy, I tend to forget how life used to be.”

“You love her a lot,” Claire said.

“That I do,” he said. “Oh, there’s the Danish. Sure you don’t want it?”

“Positive,” Claire replied. “Were you worried about her last night?”

“No,” Sam said. “Should I have been?”

“The way she dropped those glasses,” Claire said. “It was unlike her. Evvie doesn’t break things.”

“The way you break hearts?” Sam asked.

Claire smiled.

“What went on with you and Scotty?” Sam asked. “You were gone long enough to bake the bread from scratch.”

“I like Scotty,” Claire said. “A lot more than Thea does.” She was aware that Sam was shifting the conversation, and decided not to let him get away with it. “So Evvie’s really okay?”

“Why shouldn’t she be?” Sam asked.

“I heard her walking around last night,” Claire said. “I worry about her.”

Sam laughed.

“All right, I don’t worry about her a lot,” Claire said. “But I do sometimes. Like when she can’t sleep and she’s dropping glasses. Is she all right? Should she see a doctor?”

“Evvie is fine,” Sam said.

“She isn’t pregnant, is she?” Claire asked.

“No, she isn’t pregnant,” Sam said. “But when we decide to have a kid, we’ll be sure to tell you.”

“I’ll be an aunt then,” Claire said. “Don’t rush on my account.”

“It’s hard to picture your family expanding,” Sam said. “Although I guess it’s bound to, when Evvie and I make it official. Do you think your sisters will mind?”

“Sybil wishes she came from a bigger family,” Claire said. “At least a more varied one. Thea thinks Nicky and Megs are so perfect, she can’t understand why anyone would want anything more.”

“What about you?” Sam asked. “What would you like?”

“First choice?” Claire asked. “Heir to a major throne of Europe. After that, I guess Nicky and Megs will do. Do you miss having a big family?”

“I used to wish I had a brother,” Sam said. “A big brother who’d explain things to me.”

“I bet you missed your parents,” Claire said.

“I don’t remember them,” Sam replied. “Sure, I wanted parents, but it wasn’t like I had a lot of memories to go on. And my grandparents saw to it that I had plenty of love.”

Now that the cheese Danish was gone, Claire regretted not having eaten it. It was hard to outsmart people on an empty stomach. She opened the refrigerator, and was relieved to see an apple. That would do just fine.

“I used to think Evvie fell in love with you because you were an orphan,” Claire said, after taking a bite. “Megs is an orphan, and so’s Nicky, but they aren’t that easy to come by anymore. Real, full-fledged orphans. Families nowadays are more like Kip’s. You know, father gone, mother drinks, but they’re both still alive. Useless but alive.”

Sam laughed. “You have such a compassionate nature,” he said.

“Thea’s compassionate enough for both of us,” Claire replied. She took another bite of the apple, and wondered how hard to push. “Why did you fall in love with Evvie?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I guess I figured I had nothing better to do for the rest of my life.”

“I love a romantic,” Claire said. “It just seemed to me, since you didn’t have much family, you might have preferred someone who came with a full set.”

“Evvie has more than enough family for the two of us,” Sam replied. “Look how many sisters I’m getting.”

“Lucky Sam,” Claire said. “Scotty has it best, I think. Parents and a brother, and cousins and aunts and uncles. Even grandparents.”

“None of whom were home for Christmas,” Sam pointed out.

“He has Clark,” Claire replied. “Clark’s his cousin, sort of. So Scotty had family for Christmas.”

“You make a good coffee,” Sam said. “Did Meg teach you?”

“I guess,” Claire replied. “I’ve learned lots of things without anybody really teaching me. I pick things up.”

“I wish Meg had taught Evvie how to cook,” Sam said. “Or sew, or iron. Evvie vacuums well, but that’s about it.”

“That’s more than I’ll do,” Claire said. “If Evvie isn’t pregnant, what was she so upset about last night?”

Sam nearly choked on his coffee. “You don’t give up easily, do you?” he sputtered.

Claire looked straight at him. “Not when it concerns my family,” she declared.

“If Evvie was upset about anything it was me,” Sam said. “She’s very sensitive to my moods.”

“It was more than that,” Claire said. “Sam, I see things. I saw how Evvie reacted when Scotty got that phone call. At first I thought she was worried Scotty might have a new girlfriend, that he was going to dump Thea, but I don’t think that’s it.”

“If you were worried about that, you wouldn’t be chasing after him yourself,” Sam said.

“I’m not chasing after Scotty,” Claire said.

“Claire,” Sam said.

“All right, what if I am?” Claire said. “I feel sorry for him. He’s spent two years pining over Thea, which is the most ridiculous waste of time I can imagine. And we’re not going to change the subject. Evvie’s upset about something, and it started last night when Scotty got that phone call. It’s something about Scotty’s grandfather, isn’t it. Sebastian Prescott.”

“I’m surprised you even remember his name,” Sam said.

“It’s not the kind of name I’d forget,” Claire said. “Who’s Sebastian Prescott, Sam? What does he have to do with Evvie?”

Sam looked Claire straight in the eye. “I have no idea,” he said.

“You’re a liar, Sam Steinmetz,” Claire said. “And a good one, too.”

Sam laughed.

“I never would have suspected,” Claire said. “Does Evvie know you lie?”

“She knows,” Sam said.

“That’s amazing,” Claire said. “What do you lie about?”

“Everything,” Sam declared.

“That’s probably a lie, too,” Claire said. “I like your style, Sam. You come off so clean-cut and wholesome, and underneath it you’re completely dishonest. You sure Evvie knows?”

“I’m sure,” Sam said. “How is it you can spot a lie so easily?”

“I lie constantly,” Claire said. “But you know that. That’s why it’s so hard to get any straight information out of you. Because you really are like me. That’s amazing.”

“I don’t like lying,” Sam said. “And I have a feeling you do.”

“Of course I do,” Claire replied. “One good lie is worth three boring truths. You mean, you lie because you have to?”

“For the most part,” Sam said. “And from force of habit.”

“Why did you lie about Sebastian Prescott, then?” Claire asked. “Because you had to, or from force of habit?”

“I liked you better when you were younger,” Sam said. “You were less persistent then. You just hovered around, seeing things but not speaking. I always found that admirable.”

“So you lied because you had to,” Claire said. “This Sebastian Prescott thing is big.”

“This Sebastian Prescott thing, as you put it, has nothing to do with you,” Sam said. “That much I can tell you.”

“If you can tell me that much, you can tell me more,” Claire said.

Sam put his coffee cup down. “It’s none of your business,” he said. “And there are other people who could get hurt. Including Scotty, whose feelings you now seem so concerned about.”

Claire wished she could risk taking another bite of apple, but she was afraid the noise might be too jarring. “I am not a child, and I’m not a fool,” she said. “And I don’t reveal secrets.”

“You’re not going to reveal this one, because I’m not going to tell it,” Sam said. “I’ll tell you what I can, but you have to swear you won’t push it any further.”

“I swear,” Claire said.

“And it isn’t going to satisfy you,” Sam said, “because I can’t go into details. It isn’t my story; it isn’t my secret. Hell, it isn’t even my family.”

“Tell me what you can,” Claire said. “Just so I’ll stop worrying about Evvie.”

“It has to do with the summer I met Evvie,” Sam said. “And her relationship with Schyler. Something happened, nothing bad, but something that disturbed Evvie. I think that’s why she chose me, because of that incident with Schyler.”

“But what does that have to do with his grandfather?” Claire asked.

“It doesn’t,” Sam said. “Not specifically. I’ll tell you the truth. It’s a complicated situation, and I’ve never been sure I understood it completely. What I can tell you is that Scotty knows nothing about it. Nothing. And Evvie wants to keep it that way. Scotty’s family life isn’t ideal, either, you know, and Evvie doesn’t want to jeopardize what he does have. So if you don’t want to hurt him, or Evvie, keep your nose out of it.”

“I wish I understood better,” Claire said.

“I wish I could explain it better,” Sam said. “Families are messy business. Sometimes it’s best just to bury the mess and go on from there.”

Claire nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “For telling me as much as you did. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone about it.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sam said. “I mean it, Claire. I really like you, and I’d like us to be friends, but I have to be able to trust you.”

“You can trust me,” she declared. “I promise.”

“Good,” he said. “Now I’m going to rouse Evvie before it’s lunchtime, and I suggest you do the same with Thea.”

“All right,” Claire said, and took another bite of apple. She watched as Sam walked back to his bedroom. She knew even if he woke Evvie up immediately, they’d talk for a few minutes. Sam had to tell her that Claire had been snooping, and that should be good for some conversation.

Claire wished she had more time to figure out how much, if any, truth Sam had revealed. He’d brought up Schyler, and so had Evvie the night before, so there was a chance he figured in all of it. And she was willing to believe Scotty had no idea what was going on.

She had to admire the way Sam hadn’t really told her anything. The best lies were like that, hazy, with possible nuggets of truth thrown in to confuse things even further. If Sam had told her a full-blown story of Sebastian Prescott and how he’d cheated Nicky out of … what? a family inheritance? a gold mine? the perfect recipe for chili? Claire would have known he was lying. This way, she could only assume he’d revealed partial truths along with the partial lies. Sam obviously had a lot of practice lying. Maybe it had something to do with Linda Steinmetz. If she ever had the time, she’d find out.

Meanwhile, she had to make her move before Thea woke up. Claire tiptoed to the telephone and dialed Clark’s number. Clark answered it himself.

“I’m fine,” Claire told him. “We’re having a wonderful time together.”

“Scotty mentioned what a nice dinner Evvie made,” Clark said. “I guess she inherited her culinary skills from Meg.”

“I guess so,” Claire said. If it was possible, Clark was even more tiresome in his adoration of Megs than Nicky was. “I don’t suppose Scotty’s awake.”

“He certainly is,” Clark said. “He’s sitting right beside me. Do you want me to put him on?”

“Yes, please,” Claire said. She waited impatiently until Scotty got on the phone.

“Hi, Claire, what’s up?” he said.

“I have nothing to do today, and I’m bored already,” she said. “Do you have any plans?”

“Nothing important,” he replied. “What about Thea?”

“I’m bored, she’s boring,” Claire said. “Take your pick.”

She waited as Scotty’s heart shifted gears. “I have an idea for something you might enjoy,” he said.

“Just the two of us?” Claire asked.

“That’s right,” he said.

“Whatever it is, I love it,” Claire said. “Where should I meet you?”

“I’ll pick you up,” Scotty said. “If that’s convenient.”

“At the grocery store,” Claire said. “I’ll tell them I’m going out for a walk.”

“Perfect,” Scotty said. “See you in an hour.”

“Right,” Claire said and hung up. Thea continued to sleep. Claire shook her head and smiled. Sam was a born liar and Scotty a born conspirator. The sun was just barely out, and already it was a day full of surprises.

CHAPTER FOUR

Claire could remember the first thing anybody outside the family had ever said to her. She’d been with Megs and her sisters, and Sybil was in a baby carriage, so they all must have been quite young. Claire no longer remembered where they were, a store maybe, but a woman came up to them, and mentioned to Megs how pretty her girls were. Claire could picture Evvie and Thea, with their long blond hair, and their sweet childhood faces. They must have made a pretty sight. But then the lady bent down, stared straight at Claire and said, “But you, my dear, are a beauty.”

Claire suspected that she had realized she was beautiful before then. She could never remember a time when she didn’t feel different from her sisters, from the rest of the world. But even if she’d waited until she was three before discovering she was beautiful, she hadn’t wasted any time with doubts since then. She was beautiful the same way Nicky was charming, and she would use her beauty as Nicky used his charm, to get ahead, to get people to love her, to accomplish whatever it was she ultimately decided on. Claire knew she had options. Schoolwork came easily to her; if she wanted to use her brains, she could become an astronomer or a doctor or a writer. She was also shrewd, which she suspected was more useful than being smart. But her first and greatest gift was her beauty, and she was willing to coast on it until she knew what her final goal would be.

Claire knew she looked even better than usual that day, although she couldn’t be sure whether it was because she was in the middle of a situation full of delightful possibilities, or because Scotty had so quickly developed an interest in her. Claire liked men, and she liked having them like her. But she also liked mischief. Both became her.

“I’m going out for a while,” she said to Evvie, who emerged from her bedroom in an ancient and oversized robe. Probably a hand-me-down from Sam.

“Where are you going?” Evvie asked with a yawn.

Claire doubted Evvie cared. “Just for a walk,” she replied.

“It looks awfully cold out there,” Evvie said. “You sure you wouldn’t rather stay in?”

“If I do, Thea and I will fight,” Claire replied. “You really want that?”

“Not in the slightest,” Evvie said. “Where is Thea?”

“In the bathroom,” Claire said. “I thought I’d make a quick getaway.”

“It isn’t right for Thea to chase you out like this,” Evvie said.

“It’s fine,” Claire said. “It’ll give the two of you a chance to visit. You can say nasty things about me. Thea always enjoys that.”

“So do I,” Evvie declared, but she grinned at Claire. “Scat,” she said. “You have any money?”

“Enough,” Claire said. “I might go to a museum if I get tired of the cold.”

“You’ll be home for lunch?”

“I don’t know,” Claire said. “Certainly for supper.”

Evvie nodded. “Enjoy yourself,” she said. “I was thinking we’d visit Aunt Grace tomorrow.”

“Isn’t Sam leaving tomorrow?” Claire asked, putting on her coat.

“First thing in the morning,” Evvie said. “I figured I’d dread it less if I knew I’d be seeing Grace. That way I’d have something truly miserable to look forward to.”

Claire laughed. “Whatever works for you.”

“What works for me is two more hours’ sleep,” Evvie said. “Oh, well. Maybe I’ll kick Thea out, too, and convince Sam to take a nice long nap with me.”

“Good luck,” Claire said. She wrapped her scarf around her, tossed her hair back, and pictured how the cold New England air would put color in her cheeks. Her right glove had a hole in the thumb. Oh, well. Her thumb could stand a little color. “See you later.”

“Call if you get lost,” Evvie said.

Claire smiled. She never got lost. Thea wandered through life with no idea of where she was going, but Claire was always pointed in the right direction. Sybil used to be that way too, before the accident. Now all her powers were being used to learn to walk again, and to keep up with her schoolwork. Maybe she’d call from Oregon soon. Claire needed to hear how she was.

She walked to the grocery, and was pleased to find Scotty already there. He was waiting in a flashy new sports car, the sort that one day Claire would own. As soon as he saw her, he popped out, and opened the door for her.

“Nice car,” she said, getting in. “Yours?”

“Clark’s,” Scotty replied. “I borrowed it for the morning.”

“I wouldn’t have thought Clark was the sports car type,” Claire said. “He sent a different car to pick me up at the airport.”

“Clark’s rich enough to afford two cars,” Scotty said. “No, he has three. There’s a station wagon, too.”

Claire wondered if Clark would leave Megs’s daughters any money in his will. Probably not. Old money never wandered from its family. Schyler and Scotty were much more likely to inherit. She smiled. That would explain why Schyler and Scotty spent so much time with Clark. To remind him of his available heirs.

“We used to have two cars,” Claire said, strapping herself in. “But lately, we’re down to one.”

“I can’t picture your family poor,” Scotty said. “I only spent that one weekend with you, but there was a graciousness about the way you lived. It’s a crime that you shouldn’t still have money.”

“We get by,” Claire said. Her hands were in her pockets, so she let herself wiggle her thumb through the hole in her glove. “We’re not starving.”

“Of course not,” Scotty said. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just, you should have money. All of you. It would make your lives so much easier.”

“What makes you think I want an easy life?” Claire asked.

“You don’t want a hard one,” Scotty replied. “You’re not exactly the scrubbing-the-floor-on-her-hands-and-knees type.”

“No,” Claire said. “I’m not.”

“Clark would love to give your family money,” Scotty declared. “He told me so yesterday. He says he’d pay all of Sybil’s medical expenses if your father would let him.”

Claire shuddered at the thought of her family being even more indebted to Clark than it already was. “We don’t need charity,” she said. “We don’t even like charity.”

“That’s what I figured,” Scotty said. “I just thought I’d mention it.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. “Clark’s always making sweet meaningless offers like that. He once offered to pay for coming-out parties for all of us. He said he was sure Aunt Grace would be happy to have them at her house. Can you believe it?”

“Sure,” Scotty said. “Why not? I’ve been to a few coming-out parties, and they aren’t so bad.”

“For all I know, they’re wonderful,” Claire said. “But Evvie would rather stay in with Sam than come out with anybody else. And Thea, well, even if she believed in that sort of thing, she’d insist on Kip being her escort, and that would be a classic disaster.”

“What about you?” Scotty asked. “And Sybil?”

“There’s no guarantee Sybil will be dancing in four years,” Claire said. “Besides, she’d rather have the money than a party.”

“And you?” Scotty asked. “You’d make a beautiful debutante.”

“It’s not my style,” Claire replied. “If I’d grown up like that, then sure, I’d want a wonderful dress and I’d want to be deb of the year. I like being the best at whatever I do. But I didn’t grow up like that, and I guess I’m more Sebastian than I am Winslow. I don’t know if you can understand that.”

“What I understand is you’re smart and you’re beautiful,” Scotty said. “What I don’t understand is why I never really noticed you before. Except as Thea’s sister.”

“You were blinded with love,” Claire said. “And now the spell is wearing off.”

Scotty laughed. “You haven’t asked me where I’m taking you,” he said. “Aren’t you curious?”

“It didn’t matter to me,” Claire replied. “But you’re right. It should. Where are we going?”

“If it’s all right with you, I thought we’d go to my house,” Scotty said. “It’s empty, and it’ll be cold, but we’ll have a chance to be alone there.” He rested his hand briefly on Claire’s thigh. “If that might interest you.”

“I’d like to see your house,” Claire said. She wasn’t at all sure she’d like to see his bedroom, but there was no rush on that decision. “Where do you live? This isn’t the way to Boston.”

“We live in Concord,” Scotty replied. “My mother said it was bad enough to have to live in the Boston area, but she was damned if she’d live in Boston. Besides, my grandparents, Grandfather and Grandmother Hughes, are still alive, so we couldn’t take over their house. It’s a lot like Clark’s, a lot like your aunt Grace’s.”

“And Concord is different?” Claire asked.

“It’s a beautiful town,” Scotty replied. “We all love the time we get to spend at home.”

“Can we turn the heat on when we get there?” Claire asked.

“Sure,” Scotty said. “Or we can make our own heat.”

Men, Claire thought. So predictable. She tried to imagine Clark coming on like that, and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Scotty asked.

Claire could hear the defensiveness in his voice. She glanced at him casually and thought about who he was. Scotty had gone to an all-boy’s prep school. He attended the occasional debutante party. His brother Schyler was notorious for his success with girls. Scotty had spent two years pining after Thea, who had probably never even bothered to kiss him. No wonder he lacked subtlety.

“I was under the impression you were interested in me,” Scotty said when Claire didn’t answer. “You’ve been the one making all the moves. What’s going on? Is this some sort of game you’ve invented, just to drive Thea crazy?”

“What makes you think Thea even cares?” Claire asked.

“You mean she doesn’t?” Scotty asked.

Claire laughed to herself. “If you’re interested in me, then leave Thea out of it,” she said. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Scotty said. “And I am interested in you. But I thought it was mutual.”

“It is,” Claire replied. “I think you’re wonderful, Scotty. I always have. I told you that yesterday, and I meant it.”

“Then why were you laughing at me?” Scotty asked.

“I wasn’t,” Claire replied. “I was laughing at myself.”

“I still don’t get the joke,” Scotty said.

The car had warmed up sufficiently for Claire to take her hands out of her pockets. She removed her gloves first and tried to will the hole to mend itself. “I laughed because I’d half convinced myself you didn’t care about me,” she said. “No, that isn’t exactly it. I was convinced you still saw me as only Thea’s kid sister, the way you had when we first met two years ago.”

“Two years ago you were fourteen,” Scotty said. “How else was I supposed to see you?”

“I was afraid you still saw me as fourteen,” Claire replied. “I’m not a kid anymore, Scotty.”

“I know that,” Scotty said. “I’m not all that sure you were a kid at fourteen.”

“I was younger,” Claire said. “I’ve grown up a lot in the past two years.”

“So have I,” Scotty declared. “Enough to know love isn’t a first-sight thing.”

“It is in my family,” Claire said. “First Megs with Nicky and then Evvie with Sam. Thea with Kip, too, I suppose. They all fell in love at first sight when they were sixteen.”

“You’re sixteen now,” Scotty said. “Are you about to fall in love at first sight?”

It depends on how nice your house is, Claire thought. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I fell a little in love with you when we first met two years ago. I haven’t felt that way about any other boy since then. Sometimes I dream about you, Scotty.”

“I dreamt about you last night,” Scotty said. “Uh, it’s getting kind of hot in here. Would you mind if I opened my window?”

“I’d like the breeze,” Claire said. She could imagine what the dream had been, but she knew better than to laugh again.

Scotty pressed a button, and his window mysteriously lowered itself. Claire thought about how few things Clark had to actually do for himself. He didn’t even have to roll down his own windows.

“Our house is near Walden Pond,” Scotty declared. “You know, where Thoreau lived.”

“I know,” Claire said. “I’ve been to Concord. Megs took us once when we visited Aunt Grace. We went on a tour of Louisa May Alcott’s house. She was always Thea’s favorite.”

“I can see that,” Scotty said. “I bet Jane Austen was Evvie’s.”

“It could be,” Claire said. “Who’s your favorite?”

“For serious stuff, Melville,” Scotty replied. “For relaxation, Louis L’Amour. Who do you like best?”

“Colette,” Claire said.

Scotty laughed. “I should have known,” he declared. “You are definitely not the Louisa May Alcott type.”

“I’m not the Jane Austen type, either,” Claire said. “And I hope this won’t upset you, but I’m not the Melville type or even the Louis L’Amour.”

“I bet you’re great at l’amour,” Scotty said. “I bet you know all the rules.”

“I’m sure there are things you could teach me,” Claire replied, trying to decide if she wanted to go to bed with him. On the one hand, it would be fun, especially knowing that Thea still didn’t have any idea what was going on. And Scotty was good-looking and nice and well-to-do, an admirable combination. But if she let Scotty sleep with her, then he’d never respect her again. And while in the long run she didn’t care if Scotty respected her, for the next few days it might come in handy to have him think of her as at least a halfway decent girl.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Scotty said. “I’m dying to get there.”

That decided it. Claire was not about to be a quick roll in the hay. “Scotty, please listen to me,” she said, and she wished she looked younger, looked more like Megs. “I don’t want you to think I’ve been misleading you.”

“About what?” Scotty asked.

“About our making love,” Claire replied. “I want you so much, but not today, not like this.”

“You mean in the car?” Scotty said. “It wouldn’t be in the car. Why do you think I’m taking you to my house?”

“That’s it,” Claire said. “I want you to be taking me there because it’s important to you, because it’s your home, not just some place that’s cheaper and more convenient than a motel.”

“I don’t like teases,” Scotty said.

Who does? Claire thought. “That’s why I’m being honest with you,” she replied. “I’ve dreamed about us being lovers. For years that’s all I’ve wanted.”

“It’s what I want, too,” Scotty said.

“No,” Claire said. “You want us to have sex. That’s only part of it.”

“You want flowers too?” Scotty said. “Boxes of candy? You want me to take you to the movies first? I didn’t think that was your style.”

It wasn’t, and Claire had to give Scotty a couple of points for perceptiveness. “I want us to know each other better,” Claire said. “That’s all. I want to see your home, see where you grew up. You have an advantage over me. You know my family, I don’t know yours. I want us to share our lives, just a little bit, before we share a bed.”

“I like the ‘just a little bit’ part,” Scotty said. “You busy tomorrow?”

“No,” Claire said. “Yes. We’re going to visit Aunt Grace. But I’ll be free in the evening.”

“Do you want me to turn around?” Scotty asked. “Take you away from bedrooms?”

“I trust you,” Claire replied. “And I would love to see your home. You made it sound so special.”

“It is,” Scotty said. “I used to love spending time there. I hated leaving it all the time.”

Claire pictured Scotty’s long lonely childhood and wished she had more time to be sympathetic to him. She’d bought a day’s reprieve, but that might not be enough. And there were things she had to get from Scotty, information if nothing else. “Did you get to spend a lot of time with your grandparents?” she asked. “I always thought it must be nice having grandparents.”

“You’re welcome to mine,” Scotty said. “My grandparents aren’t exactly the warm cuddly kind.”

“Even the legendary Sebastian?” Claire asked. “How could someone with a name like that not be perfect?”

Scotty laughed. “It’s nicer as a last name than a first one,” he said. “He has a real cruel streak. He used to make me cry sometimes with the things he said.”

“He’s still alive?” Claire asked.

Scotty nodded. “All four of my grandparents are still alive. Granny, my mother’s mother, is pretty nice. They’ll be up for a visit over New Year’s. We’ll all be together then.”

“You don’t sound like you’re looking forward to it,” Claire said. So Sebastian Prescott was going to be in town. She wondered how Evvie would react if she knew. “Isn’t the house big enough?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Scotty said. “Your family is so close. But I don’t have that much in common with mine. My mother worships Schyler, I guess because he looks like her, and my father, well, he’s cold, like his parents. I never fit in. But there were times I’d dream about being in a normal family, the kind where everybody lives together and loves each other. The normal American kind. That’s what our house looks like, a stage set for that family. Well, you’ll see what I mean. Here we are.”

They drove into a curving driveway, and Claire looked at what was a genuine mansion. The house was stately and white, and she could see even in winter how well tended the grounds were. If Claire owned a house like that, she’d never leave it.

“It’s beautiful,” she said as she and Scotty got out of Clark’s sports car. “It looks like a dream.”

“It is a dream,” Scotty said. “Be careful. The steps are icy.”

Claire held on to him as they walked to the front door. Scotty opened it, and she followed him in. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “If Thoreau had lived here, he never would have moved to Walden Pond.”

Scotty laughed. “Let me turn the heat up,” he said. “It’s an old house, so it’ll take a while to warm up. You might want to keep your coat on.”

“Thank you,” Claire said.

“For what?” Scotty asked.

“For bringing me here,” Claire replied. “And for understanding.”

“You’re worth waiting for,” Scotty said. “And you were right. We shouldn’t rush. You’re not cheap, and neither am I.”

Scotty really was nice. Claire marveled again at how foolish Thea was.

“Will you give me the tour?” she asked. “I want to see everything.”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” Scotty said. He reached his hand out, and Claire took it, then moved closer and kissed him. “Sorry,” she said when they had finished. “I thought I saw some mistletoe.”

“I have a garden of it in my bedroom,” Scotty said. “Hanging trellises. It grows out of my ceiling like ivy.”

“Or mildew,” Claire replied. “I just had to kiss you then. But that’s all.”

“That’s all,” Scotty said, kissing her back. Claire was breathless by the time they finished. Maybe she was being too cautious. How cheap could it be to make love in a mansion?

“Claire,” Scotty said. “Oh, Claire. You drive me crazy.”

“I drive myself crazy,” Claire said, and she realized that was the first completely truthful thing she’d said to him. “I’m sorry, Scotty. It’s just I want everything.”

“That’s what you deserve,” he said. “All right. Let’s get this tour going while we can still think.”

Claire nodded. Scotty led the way into the living room.

“Isn’t it lovely,” he said, gesturing at the decorating-magazine perfection of the room. “As kids we were never allowed in here. My mother was afraid we’d get things dirty.”

Claire sympathized with Scotty’s mother. If she had a room that pretty, she wouldn’t let two boys anywhere near it. “Where were you allowed?” she asked.

“In the family room,” Scotty replied. “Here, I’ll show you.” He led her through a maze of rooms, each as perfect as the last until they reached a room that only by the Hugheses’ standard could be called a family room. It too was without blemish, only the TV was there, and the VCR, and a pool table, and a model train set, and an upright piano.

“You have a piano,” Claire said. They had been supposed to get one, but Sybil had gotten hurt instead.

“We have two,” Scotty replied. “The baby grand is in the music room upstairs.”

“Of course,” Claire said. She walked over to the piano, and checked out the photographs on it. There was Scotty in short pants, and standing next to him an older boy she assumed was Schyler. He was handsome, but Scotty was cuter. There were pictures of a couple she assumed were Scotty’s parents, including one of them standing with Clark. And there was a picture of Nicky, as a very young man, standing with a woman Claire didn’t recognize.

“My grandparents on their honeymoon,” Scotty said. “The legendary Sebastian, as you called him.”

Claire stared at the picture and hoped she wasn’t giving anything away with her reaction. Of course it wasn’t Nicky. The picture was at least fifty years old; she could tell that from the dress the woman was wearing.

But she had seen snapshots of Nicky on his wedding day, and the resemblance between the two men was extraordinary. And one way or another, they shared the name Sebastian.

And then Claire realized the kernel of truth Sam had tossed into his story that morning. There were no secrets about Schyler. That was a lie. But Evvie knew the name Sebastian Prescott from the summer she met Schyler, the summer she spent with Aunt Grace at Eastgate. And that meant Aunt Grace would know for sure what Claire was beginning to suspect.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Behave yourselves,” Evvie whispered to Claire and Thea as they stood in Aunt Grace’s front parlor waiting for her to greet them.

It seemed to Claire all she’d been doing lately was behaving herself, but she kept her opinion to herself. Besides, Evvie probably wouldn’t agree.

“Aunt Grace scares me,” Thea said. “How long do we have to stay?”

“Five minutes,” Evvie replied. “Seven tops.”

Claire smiled. Aunt Grace didn’t scare her any. Why Thea should be scared of a ninety-year-old escaped her. Not that she’d care to spend much time with the old lady. But what time she spent, she intended to use wisely.

“Girls,” Aunt Grace said, walking into the parlor. She used a cane, and looked a little steadier on her feet than Sybil did. “I see you’ve come as you said you would.”

“Aunt Grace,” Evvie said, walking over to her to exchange a perfunctory kiss. Thea followed, and then Claire. Of the four of them, only Claire was smiling.

“You look like your father,” Aunt Grace said to Claire. “Grinning that way.”

Claire had never seen Nicky grin, although she knew he used his smile to great effect. She doubted she was grinning, either, but there was no reason to quibble. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll try to be more somber.”

Aunt Grace harrumphed, and sat down on a Victorian love seat that looked old, mean, and uncomfortable. They belonged together, Claire decided, sitting on a chair that wasn’t the kind a person lingered on. Thea and Evvie sat next to each other on a couch.

“Where’s that Steinmetz boy?” Aunt Grace asked. “The one you drag along on your visits to me.”

“There’s only one Steinmetz boy,” Evvie pointed out. “And he’s on his way to Long Island right now to visit his grandparents.”

“Dare I hope this means the two of you are no longer together?” Aunt Grace asked.

Evvie shook her head. “Don’t dare,” she replied. “We intend to be together for the rest of our lives.”

Claire marveled at how matter-of-factly Evvie said that. When Nicky and Megs pledged eternal love, they got operatic. Claire definitely preferred the no-nonsense approach.

“So,” Aunt Grace said. “Thea. How is college?”

“Fine, Aunt Grace,” Thea squeaked.

“I never went to college,” Aunt Grace declared. “In my day, attending finishing school was all a really well-bred girl required. Of course, your breeding lacks the social amenities, to be polite about it.”

“You’re not being polite,” Evvie said. “And nowadays, they don’t even have finishing schools.”

“A shame,” Aunt Grace said. “Perhaps at a finishing school, you might have learned some manners.”

“I doubt it,” Evvie said. “How are you feeling these days?”

“Very well, thank you,” Aunt Grace replied. “It should be many years before my will is read.”

Evvie laughed. “I’ll tell Nicky not to wait, then,” she said. “But try to give us two weeks’ notice.”

“I see your affiliation with that Steinmetz boy has done nothing to improve you,” Aunt Grace said. “And you, Claire. What do you think about all this?”

“I’m glad you’re feeling well,” Claire replied. “And I hope I’ll be in your will.”

Thea stared in horror, but after a long terrible moment, Aunt Grace laughed. “An honest answer,” she said. “Perhaps you’re not completely your father’s daughter, after all. And how is Sybil?”

“She’s at another rehab center,” Evvie said. “They’re running more tests.”

“There’s a foolish business,” Aunt Grace said. “I’d gladly pay for treatment if I could be sure that Nick wouldn’t find some way to embezzle the money and use it for his own purposes.”

“That’s totally unfair,” Thea said. “Nicky loves Sybil and he would never hurt her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aunt Grace said. “He refuses to accept any aid from me. Perhaps because he cannot abide my terms. I don’t know why the man should expect to be trusted when his life is a lie and he corrupts the very souls of all he claims he loves.”

“You are feeling well,” Evvie said. “I haven’t heard you this nasty in months.”

“Having all of you beside me brings it out in me,” Aunt Grace replied. “Especially you, Claire. One would never know you were in any part a Winslow.”

“An accident of genes,” Claire said.

“Claire’s lucky to look like Nicky,” Thea said. “Nicky is so handsome.”

“And you are so foolish,” Aunt Grace said.

Thea looked as if she was going to start crying. Evvie looked fairly pained herself. Only Claire and, presumably, Aunt Grace were enjoying themselves.

The largest cat Claire had ever seen strolled into the parlor. He stretched out languorously, and nestled on top of Aunt Grace’s feet.

“Shoo,” Aunt Grace said, waving helplessly at the cat with her cane. “Get off me, you terrible animal.”

Evvie laughed. Trouble, the cat, looked up at Grace, purred, and rested his head against her left ankle.

“Stop laughing,” Aunt Grace said. “It’s bad enough you and that Steinmetz boy are still together. Did this damn fool cat have to live as well?”

“The way you feed him, he can’t last much longer,” Evvie said. “How many cans of cat food does he get a day?”

“No cat of mine would eat cat food,” Aunt Grace declared. “Not even this one. He eats what I eat, and if he doesn’t like it, then he can simply go hungry, or catch a mouse, or take the train to Cambridge and ask that Steinmetz boy to feed him.”

Evvie laughed even harder. “He seems to like what you eat,” she said. “He’s only four. Doesn’t he ever exercise?”

“He gets exercise enough bothering me,” Aunt Grace replied. “Sleeping on my bed, clawing at my furniture. He ruined a Louis Quinze chair that’s been in the family since before the revolution.”

“Which revolution?” Claire asked. “French or American?”

“American,” Aunt Grace said. “And therefore French as well.” But she gave Claire a grudging look of admiration. Claire tried not to grin.

Trouble swatted lazily in the vicinity of Aunt Grace’s big toe. She kicked him and he purred some more.

“The cat thrives on abuse,” Aunt Grace said. “Not unlike Margaret.”

“That does it,” Thea said. “I didn’t come here to hear my parents insulted.”

“I was not insulting your mother,” Aunt Grace declared. “I wasn’t even insulting your father. I was simply speaking the truth.”

“Evvie, can’t we go now?” Thea pleaded. “How long do we have to stay and listen to this?”

“Aunt Grace,” Evvie said. “You know you don’t want to chase us out like this. You know you like seeing us. You’re always complaining to Clark that I don’t visit you often enough, and this time I brought Thea and Claire as well.”

“I don’t care for your visits,” Aunt Grace replied. “It’s that Steinmetz boy I enjoy seeing. He brings me things: books, and flowers, even this cat. He’s wooing me. It isn’t that I care for him particularly, but I like the things he brings me.”

“I brought you Thea and Claire,” Evvie said. “The two together are almost as good as Trouble.”

“You overestimate them,” Aunt Grace said. “I’ve had my look. I see Thea is still as pretty as she ever was, and every bit as foolish.”

“I am not foolish,” Thea said.

Aunt Grace raised her eyebrows scornfully. “And this one,” she said, gesturing toward Claire. “She might have some intelligence, I suppose, but it doesn’t matter, encased in her appearance.”

“I think you’re right,” Claire said. “At least that’s what I’ve always assumed about myself.”

“Claire!” Thea said. “You’re more than just a pretty face.”

“I know,” Claire said. “You’re a pretty face. I’m a beautiful one.”

“That does it,” Thea said. “Evvie, I’m leaving. I do not need stereophonic insults.”

Evvie nodded. “Aunt Grace, I’m sure you’ll understand if we go now,” she said. “Before we start challenging each other to duels.”

“You have no inner strength,” Aunt Grace declared. “There’s weakness inside you. It comes from your father.”

“Fine,” Evvie said. “Come on, Claire, we’re leaving.”

“I think I’ll stay a while longer,” Claire said. “You two go now. I’ll meet you back at the apartment.”

“What are you talking about?” Thea asked. “Why do you want to stay here?”

“I like Aunt Grace,” Claire replied. “And she can abuse Nicky to her heart’s content as far as I’m concerned. I’ll get home somehow. Maybe Aunt Grace’s chauffeur can drive me.”

“If you want Claire to leave, just say so,” Evvie said. “It’s up to you, Aunt Grace.”

“She can stay,” Aunt Grace replied. “Thea, Evvie, it was good to see you. And tell that Steinmetz boy to visit me soon. Perhaps this time I can convince him to take this wretched cat back with him.”

“Good luck,” Evvie said. She walked over and kissed Aunt Grace good-bye. Thea didn’t bother. The girls got their coats, and left. Claire continued sitting in her uncomfortable chair and wondered about the monetary value of all the furnishings the cat had destroyed.

“So,” Aunt Grace said. “Why did you decide to remain?”

“I do like you,” Claire said. “I always did. I like the way you’re rich and stingy. I like how you didn’t even offer us tea, and that’s hardly more than hot water. When I’m rich, I intend to be stingy as well. Nicky and Megs spend much too freely.”

“So you’ve stayed to sweet-talk me?” Aunt Grace asked. “That’s right. You do have a birthday coming, don’t you?”

“In two months,” Claire said. “And I admit money would be handy. But that’s not why I stayed.”

Aunt Grace shifted her weight, and Trouble moved along with her. Trouble reminded Claire just a little of Scotty, glued first to Thea, and soon, she expected, to herself. She hoped, when the time came, he’d be easier to get rid of than Trouble seemed to be.

“Do you want tea?” Aunt Grace asked. “I didn’t think young girls drank tea anymore.”

“I want information,” Claire replied. “Tea is more Thea’s thing than mine.”

“Information can be gotten over the telephone,” Aunt Grace said. “Just dial the right digits.”

“Not this sort of information,” Claire said. “I want to know about Sebastian Prescott.”

Aunt Grace stared at Claire. “So Evvie finally told you,” she said. “I’m surprised Thea wasn’t in tears about the whole business. She cries so easily.”

“Thea doesn’t know,” Claire said. “And Evvie didn’t tell me nearly enough.”

“She can’t have forgotten what was in the detective’s report,” Aunt Grace declared. “Margaret probably has, she has such blinders about Nick, but Evvie is more sensible than that. In spite of her feelings about that Steinmetz boy.”

“Evvie didn’t say how she found out about Sebastian Prescott,” Claire said. “Merely who he was.”

“And who did she say he was?” Aunt Grace asked.

Claire knew her bluff was being called. She didn’t care for her options, but she knew what they were. She could either admit she didn’t know for certain herself, or she could say what she thought. If she guessed wrong, she could then either blame it on Evvie, or hope that Aunt Grace wouldn’t tell anybody else about what a fool she’d made of herself. The woman was ninety, after all, and could easily die before letting everybody know about Claire’s ridiculous assumptions.

Trying to force the information out of Aunt Grace wouldn’t work. Blaming Evvie was distasteful to her. Therefore, it was either hope she’d guessed right, or pray for Aunt Grace’s silence.

“Sebastian Prescott is Nicky’s father,” Claire said.

“I’m glad to see Evvie hasn’t forgotten all the lessons I tried to teach her that summer,” Aunt Grace said. “Although she never seemed to care for my instructions.”

Claire wasn’t sure, but she thought that was a confirmation. “It’s in the detective’s report?” she asked. “About Sebastian Prescott being Nicky’s father?”

“Certainly,” Aunt Grace said. “I hired a reputable firm to find out everything they could about Nick Sebastian that summer. I tried to use the information to convince Margaret that he was unworthy of her, that she should never see him again. But there is no reasoning with a sixteen-year-old, especially one in love with a handsome, dangerous man.”

Claire nodded, and tried to keep from shaking. It was one thing to guess that Sebastian Prescott was Nicky’s father. It was another thing to have it confirmed. “I don’t understand why Nicky’s last name isn’t Prescott,” she said. “Sons usually take their father’s last names, not their first ones.”

“Nowadays I suppose that’s what’s done with bastards,” Aunt Grace said. “Moral standards have decayed so, people now flaunt their illegitimate offspring. But when Nick was conceived, a man, especially a married man, didn’t show the world his dirty laundry.”

“So Nicky’s mother named him Sebastian?” Claire asked.

“Nick’s mother named him George Keefer,” Aunt Grace said. “It’s all in the detective’s report. Would you care to read it?”

“No,” Claire said. “I like the way you tell it.” George Keefer? Nicky was really named George Keefer? And Evvie had known for how long, four years? Sam knew, too. And Megs, and Nicky, and none of them had breathed a word. Claire couldn’t wait to go home and call her father Georgie.

“Sebastian Prescott was a businessman somewhere, one of those unimportant southern cities,” Aunt Grace said. “He had a cheap little affair with his secretary. Men did it all the time in those days. Presumably they still do. The secretary got pregnant, and Prescott paid her some money, a thousand dollars or so, to keep her mouth shut. She had the baby and put ‘father unknown’ on the birth certificate. I always thought that was rather honorable of her, but of course it’s possible it was a state requirement for illegitimate births.”

Poor Nicky, Claire thought, and then realized, much to her surprise, she meant it. Poor Nicky. He must have been mortified by the whole business not to have used his illegitimacy as another charming weapon. “But she didn’t give the baby up for adoption,” Claire said.

“She boarded it out with relatives,” Aunt Grace replied. “Presumably she made up a story about who Nick’s father was and what had happened to him. After a while, she married, and the boy went to live with her. His stepfather was white trash. It’s no wonder Nick has the morals of a sewer rat. One really couldn’t have expected better of him.”

“But you did,” Claire said.

“Nonsense,” Aunt Grace said. “I didn’t care what his morals were, just as long as he kept away from Margaret. She was so innocent before she met him, so pure. I knew he would corrupt her.”

“But that’s not completely fair,” Claire said. She couldn’t believe she was actually defending Nicky. George. Whoever he was. “Nicky must have had some qualities. After all, his English teacher took him in, left him money for him to go to Princeton.”

Aunt Grace laughed. “A fairy tale,” she declared. “I remember being impressed with it myself, when Nick first told us. There was no English teacher, no Mr. Wilson to open his house and his wallet to Nick. The boy blackmailed his father. He went to Prescott’s office, demanded money, and threatened to confront Prescott’s wife and children if Prescott didn’t pay. I suppose Prescott felt it was worth a few thousand yet again to keep the scandal from his family. He gave Nick some money, not enough for a full four-years’ education, but some, and Nick got the rest himself. The detectives couldn’t figure out how. Probably something illegal. It was then that he changed his name to Nick Sebastian, and made up all those lovely stories about his father dying in the war and his mother coming from a fine if impoverished background. Those stories, which I gather, up until minutes ago, you were happy enough to believe.”

“It’s hard to picture him a George Keefer,” Claire said.

“I should think that would be the least of it,” Aunt Grace said. “The name change.”

Claire nodded, although that was the only part of the story she could really grasp. “He says his stepfather hit him,” she said. “Is that true?”

“It certainly is,” Aunt Grace replied. “With a skillet once, right by the eye. He has a scar.”

He did, although that hadn’t been the explanation he’d given when asked how he’d acquired it. Something about a dog, Claire thought. She had never wasted her time listening to Nicky’s stories.

“Evvie knows all of this?” he asked. “It was in the detective’s report, everything you’ve told me?”

“I don’t know for sure that Evvie read the report,” Aunt Grace said. “I didn’t stand over her shoulder and turn the pages for her. I assume if she told you who Sebastian Prescott was, then her source of information was the report.” Aunt Grace snorted. “What a waste of money that report turned out to be,” she said. “It neither convinced Margaret that Nick was untrustworthy, nor did it convince Evvie that the Steinmetz boy was equally so.”

“I don’t understand,” Claire said. “How does Sam fit into all this?”

“He lies about his family as much as Nick does,” Aunt Grace said. “I could see that Evvie made the connection, but like her mother, she chose not to care.”

“What does Sam have to lie about?” Claire asked. “His parents are dead, and he lives with his grandparents. Evvie’s met his grandparents. The situations are completely different.”

“His mother isn’t dead,” Aunt Grace said. “I see Evvie keeps her secrets when she cares to.”

So Sam really did lie all the time. Claire decided on the spot to respect his lies and not demand details from Aunt Grace. Besides, Sam wasn’t the key issue. It was Sebastian Prescott she was concerned about, him and his relationship to Nicky.

“Do you know what became of Sebastian Prescott?” Claire asked, trying to sound casual about it.

“I neither know nor care,” Aunt Grace replied. “Why? Do you wish to reconcile him with his son? I doubt the man would be interested. And to give Nick credit, I don’t think he’d want to pursue the relationship, either.”

“I was just curious,” Claire said. “It isn’t every day a girl finds out she has a grandfather.”

“Why should he want to have anything to do with you?” Aunt Grace asked. “Don’t look to him for happy endings, my dear. He’s a respectable man, assuming he’s still alive, and he has a respectable wife and children. He’s chosen to forget he ever begot a bastard. The last thing he would care for would be four penniless granddaughters.”

Claire nodded, and tried to look chastened. Sebastian Prescott certainly was respectable, and his respectable daughter had married Clark Bradford’s respectable cousin Bradford Hughes, and begot two respectable sons, Schyler and Prescott. And respectable Prescott was in love with Claire’s respectable sister Thea, and in lust with her own less-than-respectable self.

Except for Evvie, who was choosing to pretend the situation didn’t exist, and Sam, who was dealing with his own respectable lies on Long Island, Claire was the only one in the world who knew about each and every piece of the puzzle. And not even Evvie knew their respectable grandfather Sebastian Prescott was going to be in Concord that week. Now, all Claire had to do was figure out how to make all the puzzle pieces work best for her.

CHAPTER SIX

Claire nestled in the back of Aunt Grace’s chauffeur-driven limousine and considered what she had learned. Nicky was illegitimate for one thing, bereft of that heroic died-in-the-midst-of-battle father she had always found so boring. Thea had loved that grandfather story, and had cherished the one photograph Nicky had of him. Claire wondered where Nicky had gotten the picture. It certainly wasn’t one of Sebastian Prescott.

Sebastian Prescott. Her grandfather. Scotty’s grandfather as well. That made them half cousins, if such a term existed. Not full cousins because Scotty’s mother came from the married side of the family, while Nicky’s mother had been seduced and bought off.

Claire didn’t feel especially cousinly to Scotty, but then again, she’d never had a cousin, so it was hard to know how to feel. Didn’t cousins have reunions and go to each other’s weddings? Something like that, she supposed. Half cousins probably weren’t invited.

Next piece of information: Nicky’s father was at least well-to-do, and possibly rich, and willing to spend his money to keep from having to deal with his son. Now that was good to know.

Then there was the fact that Nicky knew all about it, and lied, and Megs knew all about it, and lied, and even Evvie knew all about it, and lied. Claire allowed herself a grin. All these years, she’d thought she was the only really untruthful member of the family. Now it turned out she came by her lying honestly.

And finally, there was the business about Sam’s mother still being alive. Claire knew if she’d pursued it, Aunt Grace would have been more than willing to tell her about it. Obviously Sam knew, and Evvie as well. Evvie really was a skilled liar. Amazing. But Claire felt dirty even being curious. Sam’s life was Sam’s, and his family was his, and if his mother was alive and he wasn’t sending out announcements, that was his business. Claire wasn’t a gossipmonger. She only sought out the facts that were relevant to her life.

She’d never had a grandfather before, and now she had one, and if she wanted, she could meet him at New Year’s. Scotty would be happy to introduce them, as long as he didn’t know the significance of the event. And Claire had no intention of telling Scotty that she was his long-lost cousin. The poor boy had cousins enough without her and her sisters. Why burden him even further?

Poor Evvie, finding out that way. It must be awful to discover that your dinner guest is actually a blood relation. It was amazing she only broke the one glass.

“The next block,” she said to the chauffeur as they reached Sam and Evvie’s neighborhood. It was quite a comedown from Aunt Grace’s. Not that Claire would ever live in Boston. New York probably, or maybe Paris or London. Or maybe all three. Flats and town houses and penthouse suites. The life she so richly deserved.

She thanked the chauffeur as she got out, treated him to a smile, and he smiled back. And why not? She had to be a welcome change of pace from Aunt Grace. Then she skipped up the stairs, pressed Evvie’s doorbell, and took a deep breath before entering. It wouldn’t do to let Evvie and Thea see how exhilarated she was. Evvie in particular, with her shrewd, dishonest eyes, might figure it all out.

But she needn’t have worried. Thea was sitting on the living room sofa, weeping, and Evvie was comforting her.

“Sybil,” Claire said immediately. “What did you hear?”

“Stop pretending you care!” Thea shouted.

Evvie raised her hand in warning. “Nothing about Sybil,” she declared. “Thea, calm down. Claire, may I speak with you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Claire said. Had Evvie told Thea about Nicky? It was hard to imagine what else would put Thea in such a tailspin.

Evvie led Claire into her bedroom. She sat down on the bed, and gestured for Claire to join her. Claire could hear Thea crying in the living room, and wondered what was going on, and why it was going to be her fault.

“No one’s sick?” she asked.

“No one,” Evvie said. “We got back from Aunt Grace’s, and Thea decided to call Kip.”

“Kip,” Claire said. But if this were just another Kip crisis, why did Evvie have that big-sister-scolding look on her face? “Was he drunk?”

“It might have been better if he had been,” Evvie replied. “He was sober, and he was mean. You know how he can be. He told Thea he was working, that he was trying to go to school and hold a job and still have some time for his sculpture, and he wished she’d get it through her thick skull that he had no time for a lovesick schoolgirl, not even one as pretty as she was.”

“You’re kidding,” Claire said. “No wonder Thea’s so upset.”

“That’s only part of it,” Evvie declared. “Thea, of course, only heard the part about how pretty she was, and kept after him. How was the work going? Was he drinking? Did he contact his mother on Christmas? You know, Thea questions. I could only hear her end of the conversation, of course, but it was obvious Kip was being very short with her, and she didn’t care. Only then, he hung up on her, and she told me what he’d said before. The part about a lovesick schoolgirl. Which, frankly, she is, although he could have been kinder about it.”

“Kip isn’t kind,” Claire said. “That’s one of the few things I like about him.”

“I’m not in the mood for your flippancy,” Evvie said. “Thea was upset enough about this conversation, and then it got worse.”

“Don’t look at me,” Claire said. “I have an alibi. I was at Aunt Grace’s being bored by old-woman talk. I bet she won’t shell out an extra penny for my birthday, either, even though I listened to her reminisce for hours.”

“You volunteered to stay,” Evvie said. “You can’t blame Aunt Grace for being boring when she has the chance.”

“No, I guess not,” Claire said. She would have given Evvie a charming smile, but it wouldn’t have worked. She could charm Megs when she had to, but Evvie always saw through her. Evvie the liar was tough.

“I had just gotten Thea calmed down, when the phone rang,” Evvie said. “It was Sam, calling to say he’d made it to Long Island safely. That really got Thea going. How was it I’d fallen in love with someone who loved me back, and she’d wasted two full years on Kip, who had never loved anybody, except for Gina, and since she’d died, his heart had died too.”

“She didn’t really say that?” Claire asked.

“Of course she did,” Evvie said. “That’s pure Thea. I never could have made it up.”

“True,” Claire said. “So you brought me in here to warn me to stay clear of her? I’d love to, Evvie, but this is a three-room apartment.”

“I brought you in here because after I got through with Thea that time, the phone rang all over again,” Evvie replied. “And this time it was Scotty.”

“So what’s the big deal?” Claire asked. “Thea should be used to that by now.”

“The big deal is he wasn’t calling for Thea,” Evvie declared. “He was calling for you. He left a message. He wants to know if the two of you are still on for dinner and a movie tonight.”

“I’ll call him back right now,” Claire said. She wished Evvie weren’t staring at her.

“You’ll finish talking to me first,” Evvie said. “How long have the two of you been dating?”

“This is our first date,” Claire replied. “What difference does it make?”

“It makes a lot of difference to Thea,” Evvie said.

“I’m sick and tired of Thea,” Claire said. “And so’s Scotty, finally. She’s never given him the time of day. She uses him when she needs someone, but she only cares about Kip. Scotty’s a convenience for her, nothing more. Why shouldn’t he be dating someone else?”

“It’s fine as far as I’m concerned,” Evvie replied. “But that someone else doesn’t have to be you.”

“I like him and he likes me,” Claire said. She paused for a moment to see if Evvie was about to reveal their family ties. Claire didn’t know what to say if she did.

“Scotty’s a very sweet boy,” Evvie said instead.

Claire laughed. “He’s only a year younger than you,” she said. “Don’t make him sound like a Cub Scout.”

“I can hear you laughing in there!” Thea cried from the living room. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, Claire.”

“I’m going to kill her,” Claire said. “That will solve all our problems.”

Evvie put her hand on Claire’s arm to restrain her. “Thea’s upset,” she said. “Aunt Grace got to her, and then Kip, and now this business with Scotty. I agree with you about a lot of things. Thea has been using Scotty, and Scotty has every right to be fed up with it. But that doesn’t mean you have to chase him.”

“He called me,” Claire said. “What makes you think I’ve been doing the chasing?”

Evvie gave Claire a long hard look. “I think the two of you are playing a cruel game,” she declared. “Scotty’s taking you out to prove to Thea that he doesn’t care for her, which is untrue. And you’re the one probably behind it all, because this is just the kind of trouble you enjoy making.”

“I resent that,” Claire said.

“I don’t care,” Evvie replied. “It’s true. You’ve always egged Thea on. You’ve always tormented her. I don’t know why. You’re perfectly nice to me, and you’re terrific with Sybil, much better than I could have been the past couple of years, but Thea and Nicky you insist on being cruel to. Nicky can handle it. He’s an adult, he’s dealt with worse. But Thea really is sensitive. She really does bruise easily. And she’s feeling bad enough right now without you and Scotty kicking her while she’s down.”

“Are you finished?” Claire asked.

“No,” Evvie said. “I won’t have you doing this to her in my house.”

“That does it,” Claire said. “What do you think is going on here? Scotty and I are going to have an orgy while Thea’s trying to sleep? We’re going out for dinner and a movie. That’s all. There’s a movie we both want to see, and we might as well have supper first. Big deal. Scotty isn’t being underhanded about it. He called right here, left the message with you and everything. Don’t you think if this were something serious, he wouldn’t have been so open about it?”

“Not everyone is as devious as you are,” Evvie said.

“And I’m sick and tired of being insulted,” Claire said. “What is it, open season on me? Thea is two years older than me. As far as I’m concerned, she’s the one being rotten. She’s been picking on me ever since she got here. And now you are, too. What’s going on? I have to ask permission from both of you to breathe around here?”

Evvie sighed. “I don’t want you dating Scotty while you’re staying in my home.”

Claire laughed. “You might as well be honest,” she said. “You love Thea, and you don’t love me, and her feelings are the only ones that count. You’ve never once asked me how I feel about Scotty. You’ve just assumed the worst, the way everyone always does about me. I used to think you were different, Evvie. I used to think you were fair. Well, I can see I was wrong. The only family I really have is Sybil. She loves me, even if nobody else does. I just hope you don’t poison her mind against me.”

“You know perfectly well I love you,” Evvie said. “And you’re right. I haven’t asked you how you feel about Scotty. Maybe I don’t want to know. Just do me a favor, and even if Scotty is the one true love of your life, don’t rub Thea’s nose in it right now. Okay? You’re sixteen, he’s nineteen. The two of you can have seventy years’ worth of passion if you eat raw vegetables and exercise regularly. You don’t have to start things up now.”

For a moment, Claire was reluctant to do anything behind Evvie’s back. But then she remembered just how much lying Evvie had been doing, and for years now. One good lie deserved another. “If you insist,” she said. No point in being gracious about it. Evvie would really be skeptical if she was.

“Thank you,” Evvie said. “Now let’s go back into the living room and mop up Thea.”

“She drives me crazy,” Claire whispered.

“You do the same to her,” Evvie said. “And she loves you anyway. You might think about that sometime.”

Claire had entirely too many other things to think about just then to waste any brain cells on Thea. It would have been nice to be able to date Scotty openly, but part one of the plan, driving Thea crazy, had obviously been accomplished. And Claire was no longer sure what part two was going to be. The rules were different now that Scotty was her cousin. The rules were a lot different now that he was the key to Sebastian Prescott.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Thea. “It never occurred to me that you’d mind if Scotty and I dated.” It was hard getting that one out without a guffaw.

“I may have overreacted,” Thea said. “But I always thought Scotty loved me.”

“He has for a long time now,” Claire said. “But he can’t go on loving you forever. Not unless you love him back.” Not everyone is a masochist like you, she thought cheerfully.

Thea looked as if she might start crying again, or worse still, kiss Claire. Fortunately, the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Claire said. If it was Scotty, it was best she intercept the call, before the waterworks got going again.

“I have a collect call for anyone from Sybil.”

“We’ll accept it,” Claire said. “Sybil? How are you?”

“Oh, Claire, thank God it’s you,” Sybil said. The connection was good, and Claire could hear the panic in her sister’s voice. “I have to talk to you, and I have to talk fast, before Nicky and Megs get back.”

“I’m listening,” Claire said.

“Is it Sybil?” Thea asked. “Let me talk to her.”

Claire waved Thea away. “Evvie and Thea are here, too,” she said. “They both want to say hello.”

“Later, if there’s time,” Sybil said. “Claire, Nicky’s going crazy.”

“What do you mean?” Claire asked.

“This place,” Sybil said. “Well, it’s terrific. I can see a difference in everything: attitude, program, exercises, all of it. I even feel stronger, after just a couple of days. But it costs a fortune.”

“We can find the money,” Claire said. “If it’s for you, we’ll manage somehow.”

“Stop sounding like that,” Sybil said. “Like Megs. Listen to me. It’s four thousand dollars a month. They said if I lived here, did a complete residential program, in six months, I’d be out with just a limp. I might need a cane on bad days, but that would be it. No walkers, no crutches.”

“Sybil, that’s great!” Claire said.

“It’s twenty-four thousand dollars,” Sybil replied. “We haven’t seen that kind of money in years. Not since we sold the house. And all that money is long gone. All we’ve had the past year is the trust fund money. You know that. You know what it’s been like.”

Claire wanted to assure Sybil that things would work out. But Sybil was right. She’d picked Claire to talk to because Claire was the only realistic one in the family. “You said Nicky was going crazy,” she said. “What do you mean?”

“When the doctors told him about the program, and what it would cost, he pleaded with them for long-term payments,” Sybil replied. “For scholarship aid, as if it’s some sort of college. It isn’t. They need to make their money, too. Insurance usually pays. We don’t have insurance. Therefore it’s cash up front, or else it’s no deal.”

“How did Nicky take that?” Claire asked.

“He got hysterical,” Sybil said. “I was in the outer office, and I could hear him screaming. Megs was trying to calm him down, but it was awful. I’ve never heard him out of control. He kept saying it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t just, that a fourteen-year-old girl should be condemned to a lifetime of being a cripple because of a few thousand dollars. Claire, he’s never called me a cripple before. And it isn’t a few thousand dollars. It’s a lot more than that.”

“Sybil, it isn’t your fault if Nicky lost control,” Claire said. She became uncomfortably aware of Evvie and Thea listening to her end of the conversation. Three-room apartments with only one phone were the pits.

“Of course it’s my fault,” Sybil said. “If it weren’t for me, none of this would be happening. I was the one who insisted on going out that day. For what? A few stinking dollars. Everything’s been ruined because of me, and now Nicky’s threatening to sue Aunt Grace and the entire Winslow family to break into Megs’s trust fund for the money I need.”

“You’re kidding,” Claire said.

“I wish I was,” Sybil replied. “Claire, that trust fund is all we have. The interest on it just barely gets us by. If Nicky hires lawyers, by the time they’re through, even if he wins, there’ll hardly be anything left. Just enough for my rehab, and then we’ll be completely sunk. Megs hates the idea. You know how she is about Aunt Grace. They had a terrible fight.”

“They fought?” Claire asked.

“They screamed at each other,” Sybil declared. “Megs said it was all Nicky’s fault for not letting Aunt Grace or Clark help us. Did you know Clark offered to pay for everything when I first got hurt?”

“Nicky wouldn’t let him,” Claire said. “Or anyone else for that matter. He said we could take care of it all.”

“He was wrong,” Sybil said. “Claire, I don’t want to be a cripple. The past two years have been hell, but I’d go through six more months if it meant I could walk again. I know I’m being selfish. I know I shouldn’t care, but I do. I hate looking like an old lady. I hate not being able to get around. I never wanted to depend on anybody, and I’m so helpless now and it’s so unfair. Why don’t we have money anymore? Why did we waste it all?” She cried softly into the phone.

“If you can just hold on a little longer,” Claire said. “Aunt Grace is ancient. She’ll die soon enough, and maybe she’ll leave us the money. Twenty-four thousand isn’t a lot for her. That’s practically disinheriting us as far as she’s concerned.”

“It’s now or never,” Sybil replied, sniffing softly. “That’s what they told Nicky and Megs. The longer I go without intensive therapy, the greater the permanent damage. Even a few months’ delay would be the difference between using a cane full-time and not. And I don’t think we can count on Aunt Grace dying tomorrow just to make my life easier. She’s never liked me.”

Claire laughed. “She’s never liked anyone,” she said. “Do you want me to come out there?”

“I’d love you to,” Sybil said. “But face it, Claire, you’d only make things worse. You’d get into a fight with Nicky the minute you got off the plane, and Megs’ll start crying again, and I couldn’t stand it.”

“Okay,” Claire said. “How long are you going to be there?”

“At least through New Year’s,” Sybil replied. “They’re teaching us some new exercises we can use after we get back home. Claire, I don’t know what to do.”

“Learn the exercises,” Claire said. “And don’t pay any attention to Nicky. We’ll find the money somehow, and there won’t be any lawsuits. I promise.”

“I miss you,” Sybil said.

“I miss you, too,” Claire said.

“They’re coming,” Sybil said. “I can hear them. I’d better get off the phone. ’Bye, Claire.”

“ ’Bye, Sybs,” Claire said, but Sybil had already hung up.

“What lawsuit?” Evvie asked. “What the hell was that all about?”

Claire sighed and told Evvie and Thea what Sybil had said. There was no point in censoring; they’d half guessed it from what they’d heard.

“Breaking into the trust fund would be a disaster,” Evvie said. “Someone’s got to talk Nicky out of trying.”

“I will,” Thea said.

“How’ll you manage that?” Claire asked.

“I’ll fly out there today,” Thea replied. “When I first called Clark from New York, he offered to pay for me to go to Oregon, spend Christmas there, only I said no. He’ll pay for the ticket when I tell him what’s happening. And then I can talk Nicky out of it, and help Megs out, and Sybil, too.”

“Maybe I should go instead,” Evvie said.

“You have a job to go to,” Thea pointed out. “You’re supposed to go back to work tomorrow. I don’t have to be in school for a couple of weeks. And there’s no point in my hanging around here, or even going back to New York. So I might as well go.”

“Will Nicky listen to you?” Evvie asked.

“If I have Megs on my side,” Thea said. “And you can call with reinforcements if we need you. I’m going to call Clark right now, so he can get me on the next flight out.”

“Thea,” Claire said. “It isn’t going to be fun out there. I know you think I’m always putting Nicky down, but you don’t understand how much he’s changed over the last year or so. You haven’t seen it like I have. This business with Sybil has destroyed him.”

“You’ve always underrated Nicky,” Thea said. “But thanks for the warning. I can take care of myself. Now let me call Clark, so I can pack and go someplace where I’m really needed.”

Claire looked at her sisters. Evvie was smart enough, and caring and dishonest, but she had her own set of problems. Thea was helpless. Sybil needed twenty-four thousand dollars, and it was obviously up to Claire to raise the money immediately.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Claire finished brushing her hair for the last time before Scotty arrived, and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was the only mirror Evvie and Sam had. Claire remembered saving up for a full-length mirror from the first allowance she’d been given. It had taken weeks, and then she’d had to beg Megs to go with her, drive it back, and put it up. Nicky hadn’t approved, either, but Claire had gotten what she wanted. It was her mirror alone. At one point, she’d charged Evvie and Thea ten cents per use. Now that she thought about it, charging them had been Sybil’s idea. Sybil cherished profits.

Thea had zipped off to Portland the night before, Clark paying for first-class transportation. Claire smiled. Clark might have bought her a ticket in a comparable situation, but not first class. The advantages of looking like Megs. It had been odd being alone with Evvie, no Sam, no horde of sisters and parents. Just the two of them, with Evvie looking as though she blamed Claire for everything.

“It’s not my fault,” Claire had finally protested. “I’m not responsible for Sam being on Long Island, and Thea going to Oregon, and Nicky going crazy.”

“I know,” Evvie had muttered, but she kept giving Claire those looks. It wasn’t a night for sisterly confidences. Evvie didn’t open up about Sam’s mother, or Sebastian Prescott, or any of the other topics Claire would have found entertaining. Instead, she did some work on her psychology project, and Claire pretended to read and, instead, worked out her plan.

The plan, unfortunately, was completely dependent on Scotty. Claire wished there were a way of keeping him out of it, since he might get hurt, and even if he didn’t, things would go much more smoothly if only one of them were involved. But without Scotty, Claire couldn’t see a way to get the twenty-four thousand. And that was her goal, Scotty be damned.

She looked out the window, and saw him walking toward the apartment. There was no reason to meet him on the street, since Evvie was gone for the day at her university job, but Claire wanted to get out of there, see Scotty someplace that didn’t resonate with sisters. It had been hard enough yesterday, calling him to cancel the date with some deliberately feeble excuse, then calling him back in the morning, after Evvie had left, to set up a lunch date. Claire raced to put on her winter coat, checked to see that her gloves were in the pockets, and using the key Evvie had left for her, locked up, and ran downstairs.

“This is a nice surprise,” Scotty said, as Claire kissed him hello. It started as a friendly cheek peck, and ended a good deal more warmly. “You look beautiful, as always.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“It worked out fine,” Scotty replied. “I got a phone call right after yours from Jennifer, the girl who called me at Evvie’s the other night. She was mid crisis again. Her family lives about an hour away, so I borrowed Clark’s car, and spent the evening calming her down. I didn’t get in until after two. I don’t know what the problem is. Her parents seemed perfectly nice to me.”

Claire laughed. “Everyone’s parents seem nice to other people,” she declared. “It’s the nature of parents. Look at mine.”

“Yours are great,” Scotty said. “I’d love to have parents like yours.”

“That’s my point,” Claire replied. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” Scotty said. “How’s that restaurant over there?”

“Open,” Claire said. “A strong selling point as far as I’m concerned.”

So she and Scotty entered the restaurant. It had white brick walls and menus on blackboards and looked like every other restaurant in the Cambridge area she’d seen since she’d gotten there.

It was early, and they had no trouble finding a table. They stared at the blackboards and analyzed soups and burgers. By the time the waitress came, they knew what they wanted, and put in their orders. Claire regretted that, when she was being taken out to lunch, the options were so inexpensive.

“Where is everyone?” Scotty asked. “I thought maybe the others would join us.”

“Sam’s on Long Island,” Claire said. “And Evvie’s at work.”

“What about Thea?” Scotty asked.

He didn’t know. Good. “She went back to New York,” Claire said. “She had another Kip crisis yesterday, and took the shuttle back to see what she could do.”

Scotty shook his head. “He’s so unworthy of her,” he said.

“She’s unworthy of you,” Claire said.

“I only wish,” Scotty said. “So you’re all alone for the day.”

Claire nodded.

“So am I,” Scotty said. “Clark has a full schedule of appointments. He was out before I got up, and he won’t get back until dinnertime.”

“Does he know about us?” Claire asked.

“I wasn’t sure there was an us to know about,” Scotty replied.

“I’d like there to be,” Claire said. She reached across the table and took Scotty’s hand. “If you’re still interested.”

“I thought you weren’t that kind of girl,” Scotty said.

“Oh, no,” Claire said. “I am. Just not in cold deserted houses.”

Scotty grinned. “We have choices today,” he said. “Clark’s place is empty, except for the servants. And the last I heard, Evvie and Sam didn’t even have those.”

Claire thought about how lovely it would be to spend the afternoon at Clark’s making love with Scotty. The rich understated elegance of Clark’s home, the servants serving them meals in bed, the chintz, the flowers, the fire burning briskly in the bedroom fireplace. The horrified look on Clark’s face when he’d walk in on her and Scotty, naked and joyous.

“Evvie’s,” she said with a sigh. “After lunch.”

“We can skip dessert, can’t we?” Scotty asked, and he seemed so young in his eagerness that Claire laughed. It was either that or cry. People that young didn’t deserve to be used, but there was no choice. Someone had to save Sybil.

“I’ll be dessert,” Claire said.

The waitress came with with bowls of soup. “Dammit,” Scotty said after she left. “Soup first, and then our burgers. It’ll take forever before we’re through with lunch.”

“We have all afternoon,” Claire said. “Evvie won’t get back until after five.”

“And you’re sure Thea’s gone,” Scotty said. “I wouldn’t want her walking in on anything. It might hurt her too much.”

Claire took a spoonful of soup and looked at Scotty. He was using her, too, she decided. He had his own fantasies about what an afternoon of lovemaking might lead to. Only his didn’t have to do with money. They were more concerned with romance and revenge. Knowing that, in his own way, Scotty was as uncaring as she, made things more palatable to her. They’d both be too busy hurting for either of them to get hurt.

“She went to New York last night,” Claire said. “But knowing Thea, she could turn around today and come right back. We don’t have to go to Evvie’s if you’re really worried about it. We could go to the movies instead, or a museum. Boston has wonderful museums.”

“No,” Scotty said. “I’m sure she’ll stay in New York, tending after Kip. And if she doesn’t, well, it’s about time she realized she can’t keep stringing me along. If you don’t mind the risk, I sure don’t.”

“I like risk,” Claire said. She did, too. The thought of trying to pull off what she had in mind was exciting her. She wished the burgers would come, and she could get on with her plan.

“You’re amazing,” Scotty said, and this time he took Claire’s hand and squeezed it. “I’ve never known a girl like you, beautiful and smart and honest.”

“I’ve never known a man like you,” Claire said. “You know just what you want, and you go after it.” She gave him her second-best adoring look. She’d save best for later if she needed it.

“I know what I want now,” Scotty said. “The check.”

Claire laughed. “We might as well skip lunch,” she declared. “We’re going to be working up a giant appetite, anyway.”

So Scotty signaled for the waitress, but she was already bringing them their burgers. Claire and Scotty laughed, and ate them while they waited for the waitress to work up the check. Three bites, and they were out of there. They practically ran the two blocks to Evvie’s apartment. Claire struggled to unlock the door, and as she did, Scotty saw the hole in her glove. Claire pretended not to notice, but hurried to unlock the door, and then slipped her hand back into her pocket, and when she took it out again, the glove was off.

She unlocked Evvie’s apartment door, and was relieved to find the place as cold and empty as she had left it. “We’re alone,” she said to Scotty.

“Good,” he said. “I would have gone crazy otherwise.” He took Claire in his arms, and embraced her. Their lips met in a kiss that Claire, with her mind on a thousand other things, had to admit was pretty damn fine.

“Wait,” she said. “This’ll be easier with our coats off.” She broke away from Scotty, removed her coat, and flung it on the sofa. Scotty followed suit. Soon they were kissing while they walked toward Evvie’s bedroom.

“You have condoms?” she managed to ask.

“Yeah,” Scotty said.

“Good,” Claire said. “No accidents, Scotty. No regrets.”

“Call me Prescott,” Scotty murmured.

“Prescott,” Claire whispered. It was all too perfect.

The lovemaking was rather better than Claire had anticipated. Scotty wasn’t ready to write a manual, but he had a young healthy body and a great deal of enthusiasm. And he never once called her Thea.

“Is Evvie going to mind this?” he asked, as they cuddled together under the warm, down quilt. “Have we abused her hospitality?”

“I wasn’t planning to tell her,” Claire replied. She liked the way her head rested on his shoulder.

“She might tell Thea,” Scotty said.

“She might,” Claire said. “Or she might not. Evvie doesn’t always talk about things.”

Scotty kissed Claire. “How can anyone as young as you are be as wonderful as you are?” he asked. “It isn’t natural.”

“I’ve never been young,” she replied. “Thea’s younger than I am in a lot of ways.”

“You’re right, she is,” Scotty said. “With that schoolgirl crush on Kip. I bet you’ve never had a schoolgirl crush.”

“Only on you,” Claire said. “And it was never a crush.” She ran her fingers down Scotty’s chest. Not much body hair. She wondered how old he’d been when he started shaving.

“You’ve really always loved me?” Scotty asked.

“Since I first saw you,” Claire said. “You sound surprised.”

“No,” Scotty said. “Well, maybe a little.”

“Why?” Claire asked. “Because I didn’t show it? I didn’t dare.”

“Girls don’t usually fall in love with me,” Scotty said. “Not just Thea. Other girls. I’m good old Scotty, if you know what I mean. Scotty they can turn to. Even if they call me Prescott, I’m still good old Scotty.”

“You’re great old Scotty,” Claire said, and kissed him again to prove it. “Those girls don’t know what they’ve been missing.”

“Thea doesn’t care,” Scotty said. “As far as she’s concerned, she can go on missing it forever.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Claire would not have allowed anyone to go on so about Thea while in bed with her. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. She needed Thea, and she knew it.

“Thea needs a shock,” Claire said, stroking Scotty with her hands. “Something to make her come to her senses.”

“Claire,” Scotty murmured. “Oh, Claire.”

“Prescott,” Claire said. “You’re so wonderful.” Thea would just have to wait a few more minutes.

But sure enough Scotty brought her up again. “What kind of shock?” he asked, after they had caught their breaths.

“Like having her walk in on us,” Claire said. “I wish she had, Prescott. For your sake.”

“You can call me Scotty now,” he said. “If she’s in New York, she isn’t likely to find us here.”

“Poor Scotty,” Claire said. She twirled a lock of his hair with her finger. “Feeling so unloved all these years.”

“It’s not Thea’s fault,” Scotty said. “Don’t get me wrong.”

“I know that,” Claire said. “It starts with your parents. Sending you off to boarding school like that, when you were just a little boy.”

“They had to,” Scotty said. “So they could travel and not worry about us. They sent Schyler off at the same age, and …”

“And they loved him better than you?” Claire said. “That’s true, isn’t it?”

“There’s a closeness my mother feels for him,” Scotty said. “It’s unimportant.”

“It’s terribly important,” Claire said. “And it’s so unfair. You’re a hundred times better than Schyler is.”

Scotty laughed. “You’ve never even met him,” he said. “How can you know what he’s like?”

“I know he gets in trouble all the time,” Claire replied. “I’ve heard Evvie and Sam talk about him. Schyler’s always doing something bad, and your parents let him get away with it.”

“That’s not quite fair,” Scotty said, shoving the pillow behind him and sitting up. “My mother worries about him a lot. Dad does, too.”

“I bet they never worry about you,” Claire said. “You never give them cause.”

“That’s right,” Scotty said. “Good old reliable Scotty.”

“Prescott,” Claire said. “A man’s name, not a dog’s.”

“Prescott,” Scotty said. “I insisted on being called that when I started college. My family still calls me Scotty, though. Yours does, too. I don’t see that changing my name would help me with Thea. She’s in love with a guy named Kip.”

Claire was starting to feel irritated. She and Scotty had just made love twice, and he kept talking about Thea. She doubted Scotty would have cared for it if she’d gone on and on about some great love in her life.

“I’m a fool,” Scotty said. “Having you to love me, and still loving Thea.”

Claire agreed silently. But she needed a foolish Scotty. A smart one wouldn’t have done her any good.

“You need to show them,” she declared. “You need to let all of them know you’re not just good old Scotty, that they can’t assume you’ll be a nice little boy for the rest of their lives.”

“How?” Scotty asked. “I’m too old to run away and join the circus.”

Claire laughed. “There’s more than one place to run away to,” she said. “You could make your own circus.”

“You mean drop out of school and go to California?” Scotty asked. “No thanks. In the short run, I might enjoy it, but I know I’d regret it real fast. I’m not the beach-bum type.”

Claire shook her head. The next few moments were vitally important, but there was no point in being too subtle. This wasn’t an idea Scotty would come up with on his own. She couldn’t lead him there without his knowing it. The direct approach was what was called for. But she couldn’t scare him off, either.

“You need to do something to make them all take notice,” she said. “Your parents, and Thea, and even Clark. All those people who take you for granted. You need to show them there’s more to you than that, that you can make grand foolish mistakes, that they can lose you if they’re not careful.”

“A fake suicide attempt?” Scotty asked. “No thank you. That’s the kind of thing Jennifer would do.”

“I had something more romantic in mind,” Claire said. There was no money in suicide attempts. Not that Scotty’s goal was money. Actually, if she were Scotty, she’d think about it. Faking a suicide might be the way to get some attention. She could picture Thea rushing to Scotty’s bedside, all compassionate and remorseful. But this was hardly the time to tell Scotty that.

“You’ve got me,” Scotty said. “Something romantic and running away that’ll drive everybody else crazy. What is it?”

“How about if we got married?” Claire said.

Scotty laughed. “You’re crazy,” he said. “Or is this the price I pay for going to bed with you?”

“No, no,” Claire said. “I liked going to bed with you. I wanted to. There’s no price.”

“Just a wedding ring,” Scotty said.

“We don’t have to stay married,” Claire said. “We wouldn’t stay married. I’m only sixteen. I’m not about to stay married to anyone, not even you, Prescott. We’d elope, that’s all, and then we’d come back, and tell our parents. Yours would be hysterical. Can you imagine their reaction when you tell them? It’s just the kind of thing Schyler would do.”

“He thought about it once,” Scotty said. “A few years back. He was seeing a girl they didn’t approve of, but he never went through with it.”

“And Thea,” Claire said. “If we eloped, then she’d realize she could lose you. She’d think she had. She only keeps sticking to Kip because he turns her down all the time. If you eloped with me, then she’d go crazy. It’d be like her walking in on us, only a thousand times better.”

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Scotty said.

“Why not?” Claire asked. “She’s been hurting you for over two years now. And besides, it’s for her own good. She should be in love with you. Kip’s garbage. We all know it. Kip knows it. And you’re so wonderful.”

“If I’m so wonderful, how come you want Thea to fall in love with me?” Scotty asked.

“I love you enough to want you to be happy,” Claire said. “Besides, Thea’s been in this room the entire time we’ve shared it. Her soul, her ghost. I have my memories now. I know that loving you for the past two years hasn’t been a waste. I can give you up, if I know you’re going to be with the woman you truly love.”

“You really are amazing,” Scotty said. “Get married, huh? You think it would change Thea’s feelings?”

“And your parents’,” Claire said. “It’d be great for you. It would be like a terminal illness, only you don’t have to linger and die. They’d all realize how much they loved you, and they’d all worry just a little bit about you forever.”

“How does eloping work?” Scotty asked. “Not that I’m agreeing to anything.”

“It’s easy,” Claire said. “I looked it up in the World Almanac this morning. All we have to do is go to New York City, get a license, and then get married. No blood tests, no waiting period. We go to city hall and someone marries us, and then we come straight back here and tell your parents. They’ll be back by then, right?”

“They’re getting in tomorrow,” Scotty said. “It’s a hell of a way to greet them.”

“It’ll serve them right for deserting you on Christmas,” Claire said. “And all those other Christmases you spent away from them. They’ll get hysterical, call me all kinds of nasty names, and insist on an annulment.”

“You won’t fight them on that?” Scotty said. “This isn’t some kind of trick?”

“I’ll be thrilled to give you an annulment,” Claire said. “But of course that’ll bring my parents into it, and if they know, then Thea’ll be sure to find out, and she’ll call me nasty names, too, but she’ll end up in your arms. I’ll put it in writing if you want.”

Scotty rested on one elbow and looked Claire over. “What’s in it for you?” he asked. “Besides being called nasty names.”

Claire took a deep breath. This was the real risk, telling him the truth. But if there was one thing she’d learned from years of observing Nicky in action, it was that the truth on occasion could be as potent as a lie. “I need the money,” she said.

“What money?” Scotty asked, instantly protective of his inherited wealth.

“I need twenty-four thousand dollars,” Claire said.

“For what?” Scotty asked. “Gambling debts? Drugs?”

Claire shook her head. “For Sybil,” she replied. “She called yesterday. That’s what the rehab center would cost for six months of intensive therapy. But at the end of the six months, they said, she’d hardly even limp. No canes, no crutches. Scotty, I have to have that money. If we eloped, that would be the price I’d charge for the annulment.”

“I’m not sure I want you asking my parents for that kind of money,” Scotty said.

“I’d ask your grandfather,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t want to involve your parents that way, either. But your grandfather can afford it, and you said he was cruel to you. This way, he could pay you back.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” Scotty said. “You’re willing to go through a lot of pain for this money. It’s that important to you.”

“It’s for Sybil,” Claire said.

“I remember at the hospital while she was having her surgery,” Scotty said. “It was like there was a glass wall surrounding your parents and you and Thea and Evvie. Not even Sam could get in, let alone Clark or me. I envied you then, that intense sense of family. We’ve never been like that, not the Prescotts or the Hugheses. Clark’s the only one who’s ever really tried to be close to me, and he’s just a distant cousin.”

“I’d kill for Sybil,” Claire said. “I’d even get married for her.”

Scotty stared at Claire, and then he laughed. “What the hell,” he said. “It’s vacation. We can be annulled before next semester begins.”

“You’ll do it?” Claire asked.

“Sure,” Scotty said. “But we’ll have to buy you a new pair of gloves. Ones big enough to cover your wedding ring.”

Claire bent over and gave Scotty a kiss of gratitude. They’d definitely have a double-ring ceremony. One for her finger, and one through his nose.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“I’m back!” Evvie called as she unlocked the door. “And I come bearing gifts.”

“What kind?” Claire asked.

“Chinese takeout,” Evvie replied. “Help me with the bags, okay. I got eggplant in garlic sauce and chicken with cashews. It seemed to me those were your favorites.”

“Oh, Evvie,” Claire said. “They are. But I ordered us a pizza with mushrooms and onions. That’s your favorite, right?”

“It sure is,” Evvie said, and laughed. “Gift-of-the-Magi time I guess. I can smell the pizza. When did it come?”

“About thirty seconds ago,” Claire said. “It’s still hot.”

“So’s the Chinese,” Evvie said, unloading the cartons in the kitchen. “I guess we’ll be multiethnic tonight.”

“I’ll get the plates,” Claire said. Evvie took off her coat and flung it onto a conveniently located chair. Soon the sisters were sitting at the dining room table, chewing contentedly their different favorite foods.

“Megs would die if she saw what we were eating,” Evvie said. “After all those wonderfully cooked meals she’s made us.”

“We’ve eaten more than our share of pizza the past few months,” Claire replied. “She puts in so much time with Sybil, she doesn’t have the energy to cook anymore.”

“I hope we hear from Thea soon,” Evvie declared. “You know the eggplant and the pizza are almost all right together. Do you think she’ll be able to calm Nicky down?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Claire said. “We still need the money for Sybil.”

Evvie nodded. “Twenty-four thousand,” she said. “There was a time Nicky could have waved a magic wand and the money would have materialized.”

“Along with the sheriff,” Claire replied.

“It was never that bad,” Evvie said. “But it’ll be a disaster if he tries the lawsuit. Aunt Grace would never forgive him. Megs would definitely be out of the will.”

“Do you think she’s in it?” Claire asked. “Seriously.”

“Seriously?” Evvie said. “I think so. A token request with a lot of conditions. But what’s token to Aunt Grace would be a windfall to us, especially now.”

“She’ll live forever,” Claire said. “She’s obviously looking forward to dancing on Nicky’s grave.”

“Is that what the two of you talked about?” Evvie asked. “How she feels about Nicky?”

Claire took another slice of pizza. “He came up in conversation,” she said. “But mostly I had to listen to her reminiscences. Old times with the Boston elite.”

“Is that all?” Evvie asked. “I know how Aunt Grace can be, when she gets going.”

Claire took a bite of pizza, just to drive Evvie a little more crazy. “She did mention something kind of interesting,” she said.

“What?” Evvie asked.

“It was about Sam,” Claire replied. “She said his mother was still alive.”

“Did she now,” Evvie said. “How did that come up?”

“It was all part of her anti-Nicky tirade,” Claire replied. “She mentioned how dishonest he was, and then she said Sam was, too, because his mother was still alive and he lied about it. Something like that.”

“Did you ask her about Sam?” Evvie asked. “I’m sure she was dying to tell you the whole story.”

Claire shrugged. “I didn’t ask,” she declared. “I figured it was Sam’s business, and yours, but not mine, and certainly not Aunt Grace’s. Besides, I knew it would irritate her if I didn’t ask.”

Evvie looked at Claire quizzically. “I’ll never understand you,” she said. “Sometimes I think you’ll do anything, hurt anybody, to get what you want. And then other times you behave really decently. You confuse me.”

“Sorry,” Claire said. “From now on, I’ll just be a louse, and you won’t have any trouble pegging me.”

“How about just behaving decently instead?” Evvie said. “I’ll tell you about Sam, if you want.”

“Only if you want,” Claire replied. “Of course I’m curious, but I don’t have to know.”

“It’s okay,” Evvie said. “No one else knows, not Thea or Megs or Nicky or Sybil.”

“Just Aunt Grace,” Claire said.

“That is dumb, isn’t it?” Evvie said. “Aunt Grace has a way of knowing things. Actually, Clark knows, too, and Schyler, and probably Scotty. Everyone from Eastgate knows, but nobody at Harvard, and no one on Long Island, except Sam’s grandparents.”

“It doesn’t sound like a well-kept secret,” Claire said.

“It isn’t a secret,” Evvie said. “It’s more like two lives. Hell, Sam didn’t know himself until he was eleven. He thought his parents had died in a car crash, but they hadn’t. They were radicals, and they blew up a bank, only the bomb went off too soon, and his father died in the explosion, along with some other people. His mother got away, and she’s been underground ever since. Sam was just a little kid when it happened, and his mother’s parents took him in and changed his name from Steinmetz to Greene, except that when he stayed with his father’s parents in Eastgate, he called himself Steinmetz, which is why we all call him that. Legally his name’s Greene. Everyone at Harvard calls him Sam Greene. It’s a terrible mess.”

“Names are funny,” Claire said. “So are grandparents.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Evvie said. “All I know is it’s very hard on Sam, being two people. He’s opened up to me more than he ever thought possible, but he still isn’t comfortable when people know about his mother. And he has reason not to be. The FBI is still looking for her. They had agents at both his grandparents’ funerals. The first time, they had to be pointed out to me, but by the second one, I could spot them for myself.”

“And you want to marry him, anyway?” Claire said.

“Sure,” Evvie said. “Why not? It could be a great convenience. Instead of having to pick between you and Thea and Sybil for maid of honor, I’ll just ask for a female FBI agent. As long as she looks good in lavender, it’ll work out fine.”

“Lavender?” Claire said. “You aren’t seriously thinking about lavender?”

“It’s a great color for me and Sybil and Thea,” Evvie replied. “Megs, too.”

“Purple maybe,” Claire said. “But I refuse to wear pastels.”

“Okay,” Evvie said. “Two different shades of lavender for Thea and Sybil and purple for you. There’s no law that says all the bridesmaids have to wear the same color.”

“Have you decided who your maid of honor is going to be?” Claire asked. She didn’t even know why she was bothering, when it so obviously was going to be Thea.

“Aunt Grace,” Evvie said. “And Clark will be flower girl.”

Claire laughed. “He’d probably agree,” she said. “I can see him strewing rose petals now.”

“I know we can’t afford a big wedding,” Evvie said. “I’m not even sure I want one. Just the immediate family and the FBI. It won’t matter. The day is going to be special no matter how small the wedding is.”

“Or how cheap,” Claire said.

“I’d rather spend the money on Sybil,” Evvie replied. “Wouldn’t you?”

Claire thought about Evvie’s remarks that night as she tried to fall asleep. It was hard even keeping her eyes closed, when she knew all the things she was going to do the next day, go to New York, get married, confront Sebastian Prescott, save Sybil. Evvie was willing to sacrifice a big romantic wedding to help Sybil. Much as she hated to admit it, Claire knew Thea would also willingly make that kind of sacrifice. They’d all loved Sybil before the accident, but something had happened in those moments when they were waiting to learn if Sybil would live. They’d discovered then just how fragile their family really was. No matter how hard Nicky and Megs tried to protect them, to create a special world no one else could really enter into, it could all evaporate in a moment. Sybil had become more than a sister or a daughter. She’d become all of them, all of what they were together, and that was why it was so important she be healthy, and that was why they were all of them willing to give up their dreams and their desires for her.

Evvie wanted a big wedding, Claire knew, with flowers and food and celebration. The kind of wedding Megs had been deprived of when she married Nicky. But she’d give it up for Sybil.

Claire thought about her own wedding. In twenty-four hours it would be over with. Of course, it was just a sham, it wouldn’t count once the annulment went through; it would be as though it had never happened. But still, it was the first time she’d get married, and for all she knew, it would be the last. Claire had never really pictured herself married the way Nicky and Megs were married, the way Evvie and Sam were going to be. She liked the idea of flings and affairs and men falling madly in love with her and giving her emeralds and rubies and maybe the occasional star sapphire. She’d stay beautiful and desired until she grew bored with it, and then she’d sell the surplus jewels and move to the south of France and become a mysterious recluse. Maybe she’d write her memoirs.

She supposed she’d have to put this incident with Scotty in those memoirs. It would be amusing forty years from now and maybe even noble. And even if it didn’t become amusing and noble, and stayed tawdry and deceitful, it was all for Sybil, and Sybil was worth a little degradation.

Claire was awake when Evvie got up the next morning, but she pretended to be still sleeping. She couldn’t deal with conversation, with questions about her plans for the day. It was easier to keep her eyes closed and her breathing steady, and sure enough, she fooled Evvie. Evvie was easy to fool.

When she heard Evvie walk down the apartment stairs and leave the building, Claire got up, went to the kitchen, and had a cold slice of pizza for breakfast. She wondered if Scotty was awake yet. He was to arrive at the apartment at ten, and then they’d get the next shuttle to New York. It was almost nine now. Claire supposed in six hours, eight maximum, she’d be married.

It was hard deciding what to wear to her wedding, especially since she hadn’t brought all that much with her to Evvie’s. Claire finally decided on a white blouse, a red pullover sweater, and a gray skirt. The white was so she’d feel a little more traditional. Claire tried to figure out something old, something new. Everything she had on was old, and she had borrowed a pair of panty hose from Evvie, so that took care of that. New and blue were going to be the tricky ones. Claire ransacked Evvie’s drawers until she found a blatantly unused handkerchief, clearly one of Aunt Grace’s gifts, that had little blue flowers embroidered on it. It might not have been perfect, but it was blue enough and new enough for the occasion.

She took her shower and dressed quickly, then threw a change of underwear into her overnight bag, since she’d undoubtedly be spending the night at the Hugheses. Claire knew there was something else she wanted, and then she realized what it was. Evvie had a picture of all of them, Nicky and Megs and Evvie and Thea and Claire and Sybil. It was nothing more than a snapshot, and it had been taken years before, but there were hardly any pictures of the six of them together. Claire wasn’t sure why she was being so sentimental about it, but she wanted the picture with her, so she borrowed that as well. Next she left Evvie a carefully worded note, claiming she’d gotten homesick and had decided to go back to Missouri early. There was a real good chance Evvie wouldn’t believe it, but she probably wouldn’t call Megs to discuss it for another day or so, and by then, everything would have been taken care of.

Scotty showed up on time, which Claire regarded as an excellent omen. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he said in lieu of hello. “This is totally crazy.”

“Have you ever done anything totally crazy in your life?” Claire asked him.

“Never,” Scotty said.

“That’s reason enough,” Claire said. “You’re nineteen years old, Scotty. That’s way too young to be predictable. Did you cover things with Clark?”

“I told him I was going to Jennifer’s for the day,” Scotty replied. “And from there to my parents’. He doesn’t have Jennifer’s number, and even if he did, I don’t see why he’d call. He said I could return the car to him after New Year’s. I’ve never lied to Clark before, Claire. I don’t think I’ve ever lied to anybody. Not about something really important.”

“Lying is good for you,” Claire said, putting her coat on. “It cleanses the soul.”

Scotty laughed. “I think you believe that,” he said.

Claire gave him a quick kiss. “Let’s get going,” she said. “The sooner we leave, the sooner this is all over with.”

“I don’t see what the hurry is,” Scotty declared. “We both have alibis. Why not spend the morning here, and then go to New York.”

“No,” Claire said. “If we don’t go now, we might never get out of here.”

“Would that be so bad?” Scotty asked.

Claire sighed. She owed it to him, she supposed, to give him one last chance to weasel out. “If you don’t want to go through with this, fine,” she said. “But don’t expect me to hop into bed with you now or ever.”

“We’re not going to be hopping into bed after we get married, either,” Scotty complained. “Not if we want an annulment.”

“But once the annulment’s granted, we can have a great time,” Claire said. “It’ll drive your parents crazy. Come on, Scotty. Try for the impossible. Make an honest woman out of me.”

Scotty laughed, but he took Claire’s overnight bag, and escorted her out. Soon they were at the airport, awaiting the eleven o’clock shuttle. Claire thought about how lucky she was to have a friend like Scotty. Maybe they could cheat once or twice until the annulment came through. She owed him that much.

They hardly talked on the flight to New York. Claire tried rehearsing what she would say to Sebastian Prescott. It would be odd meeting Nicky’s father, and the circumstances hardly guaranteed a warm family reunion. What if he didn’t come through with the money? But that was impossible. If Claire could get Scotty, who had barely known she was alive a week ago, to marry her, then she could certainly force his grandfather—and hers—to shell out a few thousand for Sybil.

The plane landed smoothly, and Scotty and Claire gathered their things. “What happens next?” he asked her. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Neither have I,” Claire said. “I suppose we get a cab, and ask the driver what to do.”

So they did. The cabbie, Claire was relieved to see, was about fifty, and looked as though he’d driven at least one of everything during his thirty years on the job.

“We’ve come to New York to get married,” she confided. “Only we don’t know how.”

“You say, ‘I do,’ and he gives you a ring,” the cabbie replied. “I’ve been married twenty-six years myself. Great institution. I didn’t think you young people believed in it anymore.”

“I guess we’re old-fashioned,” Claire said. “We’re eloping. His parents think we’re too young, but we aren’t. We love each other, and we know we can make it work.”

Scotty stared at Claire. “Right,” he said.

“So where do we go?” Claire asked.

“City hall,” the cabbie said. “I’ll get you there in no time flat.”

No time flat turned out to be the longest twenty minutes of Claire’s life. She kept expecting Scotty to jump out of the cab and leave her not merely deserted at the altar, but with the cabdriver to pay as well. Fortunately, the cabbie kept telling them about his marriage, and kids, and grandkid on the way. His voice had a soothing quality, and Claire suspected the tight grip she kept on Scotty’s arm didn’t hurt, either.

“Good luck, kids,” the cabbie said, after Scotty had paid him and given him what seemed to Claire to be an enormous tip. “I hope married life is good to you.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. On impulse, she leaned over and gave the cabbie a kiss on the cheek. There were tips, and there were tips. The cabbie grinned, and Claire felt as though he had blessed the marriage. It wasn’t much, but like everything else, it would have to do.

City hall was enormous, filled with wrong hallways to go down, but eventually Scotty and Claire found themselves at the right office. They waited on line until it was their turn.

“We want to get married,” Claire said.

“Fill out this form,” the clerk said.

So Scotty and Claire filled out the form. Claire added two years to her birthdate, but except for that, there was nothing that required deceit. They handed the form back to the clerk.

“You look kind of young,” the clerk said to Scotty. “Wanna show me some I.D.”

Claire handed over her fake I.D. while Scotty showed his driver’s license. “Okay,” the clerk said. “Cash or check?”

Scotty paid by cash. Getting married cost less than the cab ride from the airport.

“Now where do we go?” Claire asked.

“I don’t know,” the clerk said. “Where do you want to go?”

“We want to get married,” Claire said. “Right away.”

“There’s a twenty-four-hour waiting period,” the clerk replied.

“What?” Claire said.

“Twenty-four hours,” the clerk said. “Come back this time tomorrow, and someone’ll marry you.”

“But the World Almanac said there was no waiting period,” Claire said.

“Honey, the World Almanac ain’t going to marry you,” the clerk said. “Come back tomorrow. Next.”

“Tomorrow,” Claire said as the next couple pushed her and Scotty aside. “Oh, Scotty.”

“It could be worse,” Scotty said.

“I don’t see how,” Claire replied.

Scotty laughed. “We’re in New York,” he declared. “I have cash, traveler’s checks, and charge cards. Even if we don’t get married, we can still have a great time.”

“We have to get married,” Claire said. “Oh, Scotty, you promised.”

“A great time until tomorrow,” Scotty said. “I swear, twenty-four and a half hours from now we’ll be an old married couple. But in the meantime, let’s have some fun.”

Claire looked up at Scotty. “It is true,” she said. “Once we get married, we won’t be able to have any fun. At least not with each other.”

“My point exactly,” Scotty said.

“Could we stay at the Plaza?” Claire asked. “I’ve always dreamed of staying at the Plaza. And it’s practically our honeymoon.”

“We’ll try the Plaza first,” Scotty said. “If they’re booked up, we’ll find someplace else. A bed’s a bed, after all.”

Claire tried to swallow her feelings of disappointment and disgust. Scotty was entitled to his fun, too. And the only way she could be sure he’d be by her side the next day, saying I do and committing to this marriage, was if she kept him busy and happy until the waiting period was over.

“I draw the line at bedbugs,” she said.

“I draw the line at you,” Scotty said, and as he bent down and kissed her, Claire wondered if he really thought a touch of cheap romance was going to make things fine for both of them.

CHAPTER NINE

“Well, it wasn’t the Plaza,” Scotty said as they checked out of their hotel the next morning. “But it was a great honeymoon, as far as I’m concerned.”

“The best we’ll ever have,” Claire agreed. She squeezed Scotty’s hand affectionately. They’d had dinner at a French restaurant, and had seen a Broadway show. It had been at least two years since she’d had a treat like that, and she was grateful to Scotty for providing it.

“We still have some time to kill,” Scotty declared. “Before the twenty-four hours are up. Have any ideas?”

“We should probably get something to eat,” Claire said. “I doubt either of us’ll have much of an appetite afterward.”

Scotty laughed. “I’ve heard of prewedding jitters,” he said. “We’re going to have the first case of postwedding jitters in history.”

“Not true,” Claire said. “At least half of Henry the Eighth’s wives must have suffered from them.”

“I promise not to behead you,” Scotty said.

“It’s not you I’m afraid of,” Claire said. “It’s your parents.”

“Want to back out?” Scotty asked.

Claire did, with all her heart. Scotty was so sweet, and for the first time, she could picture really being involved with him, dates, and romance, the all-American boyfriend. She knew he was starting to care about her as well. He’d hardly mentioned Thea since they’d arrived in New York, and only once when they were in the hotel room together. Claire liked being important to someone. Except for Sybil, there wasn’t anyone she could automatically think of who cherished her.

Claire knew the next twenty-four hours were going to be so ugly that anything Scotty felt for her would turn sour. Up until then, it hadn’t mattered; Scotty was just a part of a plan. But the more she knew him, the more she liked him, and the more she regretted losing him.

“You’re going to hate me when this is all over,” she said.

Scotty shook his head. “I’ll never hate you,” he replied. “You’ve opened up a lot in me, Claire. I’ll always be grateful.”

Claire smiled. Maybe in ten years he’d be grateful, but not until then. Of course, in ten years, she’d long have forgotten his existence, whether they married or not. Supposing she did back out, and they continued to see each other, send valentines, fall in love. Where would that lead? She would never marry Scotty, not really marry him. His family wasn’t that rich, and he wasn’t that interesting. So they’d see each other occasionally for a year, maybe two, drift apart or have a fight, end up fond of each other, or hating each other, or hardly remembering each other. And Sebastian Prescott would never pay for what he’d done to her family, and Sybil would remain a cripple. There were no valentines in the world worth that price. So what if Scotty hated her afterward? Thea already hated her, and Nicky probably did, too, and she got along fine. Claire suspected that by the time she was through, there’d be a long list of people who hated her. Big fat hairy deal.

“Let’s get something to eat,” she said. “And discuss my trousseau.”

“Lots of black lace,” Scotty said. “Flimsy and seductive.”

“It sounds great,” Claire said. “I hope my second husband’ll like it.”

“Lucky man,” Scotty said. “How long do you think you’ll wait between weddings?”

“I’ll probably finish high school next,” Claire said. “Become a star, break men’s hearts, make my fortune, and get married when I’m too old for black lace.”

“I’ll read all about you in the magazines,” Scotty declared. “Follow your career. Tell my wife and kids that we were married once. They won’t believe me until I show them our wedding license.”

“Remember I lied about my age on it,” Claire said. “I don’t like the idea of your wife thinking I’m two years older than I actually am.”

“I’ll remember,” Scotty said. “I have an idea. Why don’t we get something to eat at the Plaza? It’s not as good as staying there, but at least it’ll be something.”

Claire kissed him on the cheek. “I envy your second wife,” she said. “She’s a lucky woman.”

“I wonder who she’ll be,” Scotty said.

“Someone terribly respectable,” Claire said. She picked up her overnight bag, and began walking with Scotty. She loved New York, the crowds, the excitement, the way the buildings stretched overhead blocking out the boring winter sky. The Christmas decorations were still up, the store-window displays were marvels of engineering, and Claire knew she was at home. It was almost criminal that Thea lived there. Thea should live in Iowa, or Montana, not someplace as electric as New York.

“We stayed in the Plaza once,” Claire told Scotty as they entered the hotel’s sumptuous flower-filled lobby. “When I was real little. Evvie remembers it, and she used to tell us about it, like a fairy tale. When Nicky was rich. I always loved hearing about those days.”

“You’ll be rich yourself someday,” Scotty said. “If it’s that important to you.”

“I want to own things,” Claire said, and then she laughed. “That’s not what I should be saying to you, is it. You’ll think I’m doing all this for the money, which I am, but not for myself. I don’t care what twenty-four thousand dollars could buy me. It’s for Sybil.”

Scotty led Claire through the lobby and to the hotel’s Palm Court. They passed an endless display of desserts, and were seated at a small round table next to an imposing statue. It was the prettiest restaurant Claire had ever been in. She must have loved it when she was a kid. She wished she could remember.

“You don’t have to keep telling me that,” Scotty said as they waited to be served. “I know you’re doing this for Sybil. I know you’re not being greedy.”

“Oh, yes, I am,” Claire replied. “I’m going to have the biggest most wonderful dessert this place has to offer.”

Scotty laughed. “You haven’t had lunch,” he said. “Not much breakfast, either. Wouldn’t you rather have something more substantial?”

“Some other time,” Claire said. “I’m in a fantasy now, and I intend to eat accordingly.”

Their waiter arrived, and smiled at them. Claire was used to being smiled at, but she was grateful nonetheless. “I want a dessert,” she said.

“Come with me,” the waiter said. “I’ll tell you what they all are, and then you can decide.”

So Claire followed him. The waiter described each of the items on display, and they all sounded perfect. She finally decided on a chocolate cake with meringue, which, the waiter promised her, would be served with a dollop of chocolate mousse.

Scotty got into the spirit of things and ordered a hot-fudge sundae. “It’s full of protein,” he said. “It’s practically a health food.”

Claire couldn’t see how things could get better, but then they did. Two men walked to the front of the restaurant. One sat at the piano, the other took out a violin, and they began to play. Claire smiled so hard, she knew she was grinning, but Scotty didn’t seem to mind. He gave her hand a squeeze.

“I forget how young you are,” he said.

“I forget, too,” Claire replied. “I don’t see how heaven could be better than this.”

The waiter arrived with their desserts. Claire dug into hers, but Scotty took only a small spoonful of his.

“We’d better talk now,” he said. “It’ll be easier.”

“Talk about what?” Claire asked. Her cake was so good she considered giving up real food for the rest of her life.

“About what happens when we get home,” Scotty said. “About my parents and grandparents.”

“Do we have to?” Claire asked.

“We’re not going to want to on the plane,” Scotty replied. “Not once the reality sinks in.”

Claire nodded. “I thought we’d say that we knew it was a mistake as soon as we said ‘I do,’” she declared. “When we realized what being married really means. We didn’t know what to do, and my parents are out of town, so we came back to Concord so your parents could help us out. That’ll explain why we haven’t consummated. Simple panic kept us from doing anything except running home to mommy.”

“That sounds good,” Scotty said. “That way neither one of us is at fault.”

“That’s sweet,” Claire said. “But I’m going to be at fault. Your parents are bound to blame me for getting you into this mess. That’s when the screaming will begin. How could I have tricked you? Didn’t I realize how young you were, how important your future is? They’re sure to see you as the victim, at least as long as I’m around.”

“I’ll protect you as much as I can,” Scotty said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Claire said, taking another bite of cake. She slipped a little of the mousse on her fork, and let the tastes mingle. “Sticks and stones and all that.”

“My mother can be cruel once she gets going,” Scotty said.

“She isn’t going to be too cruel,” Claire replied. “I may not look it, but I am half Winslow. From what Evvie’s told me, your mother was all in favor of her and Schyler getting together. I might be a tramp, but I’m not a cheap one. That should help.”

Scotty took another spoonful of sundae, so Claire could see he was feeling better about things. “This is delicious,” he said. “Best lunch I’ve had in ages.”

Claire smiled at him. “We’ll come back here sometime,” she said. “To celebrate our anniversary.”

“After you’ve weathered Mom and Dad, then what?” Scotty asked.

“Then I talk to your grandfather,” Claire said. “I tell him what I need to, and ask him for the money.”

“It won’t be that easy,” Scotty said. “Grandfather’s tight with the dollar.”

“Leave him to me,” Claire said. “I’m sure I can convince him.”

“Ask for fifty thousand,” Scotty said. “Let him bargain you down. You might even start higher than that, so when you finally agree to twenty-five, he’ll feel as though he’s won.”

“I only need twenty-four,” Claire said. “It feels like cheating to get even a thousand more.”

Scotty laughed. “You’re going to make a great wife someday,” he said. “So full of scruples. If you ask for twenty-four, it sounds suspicious. Always round a number off. If he’s willing to shell out the twenty-four, he’ll shell out twenty-five. Buy a new pair of gloves with the spare change.”

“Should I start at a hundred?” Claire asked. “Or is that so outrageous, he’ll just throw me out?”

“A hundred sounds high,” Scotty said. “But it’s probably about right. As far as he’s concerned, you’re just a little fortune hunter, out for some easy bucks. An outrageous demand is in character.”

“I wish I looked more like a hussy,” Claire said. “It would be more convincing coming from a hussy.”

Scotty gestured with his spoon. “The important thing is not to give in,” he declared. “Grandfather’s tough. He isn’t going to want to hand over a single penny. He’ll call you every name in the book, and wait for you to break. He used to do that with me, and I never wanted anything from him. That’s just his natural disposition. My father hates him, if that’s any use to you.”

“How does your grandmother feel about him?” Claire asked.

Scotty shrugged. “They’re still married,” he said. “It’s been over fifty years. They’ve had some bitter battles, but they always stuck together. Dad says it’s because Grandfather was too afraid of the settlement Grandmother would have gotten if they’d divorced. Your parents are a little more romantic.”

“Eat your ice cream before it melts,” Claire said. She could use the bad marriage, the fear of settlement, when she had to. It was a good weapon, and she was glad Scotty had handed it to her. “Are you going to tell them you love me?” she asked.

“I’m going to tell them we fell in love,” Scotty replied. “Or at least, what we felt was love that moment. They’ll assume it was sexual passion, especially after they look you over.”

“Whose idea shall we say this was?” Claire asked. “Mine, I guess.”

Scotty nodded. “Sorry about that,” he said. “But they wouldn’t believe it, if we said it was mine. Not good old Scotty. I was hot for you, you said ‘no marriage, no dice,’ so we ran off to New York. We said our ‘I do’s,’ and then I came to my senses, and insisted on ending the thing immediately.”

“Poor Scotty,” Claire said. “According to that version, you never got to have any fun.”

“They don’t have to know everything,” Scotty said.

“What about where we spent last night?” Claire asked.

“You were at Thea’s,” Scotty said. “I stayed at a hotel.”

“They’ll hate Thea then, too,” Claire said. “They’ll think she conspired with me.”

“Do you care?” Scotty asked.

Claire took a bite of cake and thought about it. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It seems mean.”

“This is all mean,” Scotty said. “The only nice thing we’ve done is not drop in on her to invite her to the wedding. And believe me, I thought about it.”

“You’re finally angry at her,” Claire said.

“She came back to New York without even telling me she was leaving,” Scotty said. “Kip sneezed and she had to blow his nose. Damn straight I’m angry.”

Claire wondered if she’d ever be able to tell Scotty the truth. She doubted it. Thea might at some point, if it ever mattered enough to her.

“What are you going to tell your parents?” Scotty asked. “You’re going to have to tell them something.”

The pianist and violinist began playing a waltz. Claire couldn’t remember its name, but she knew it was one she and Nicky had danced to one wretched birthday. Nicky insisted on dancing with each of his daughters on her birthday. Nicky loved family rituals, even if he had to create them.

She could picture him dancing with her sisters, dancing with her. Sometimes on her birthday, when the two of them waltzed, Claire could even believe he loved her.

He would never love her again, she knew. It wouldn’t matter that she did it for Sybil, for his favorite. He’d see it as a betrayal, and the fragile love he had for her would die. Megs would still love her, but Megs didn’t count. Nicky was the prize.

Claire felt tears forming in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but couldn’t. They fell silently down her cheeks.

“Claire, I’m sorry,” Scotty said.

Claire shook her head. “It’s the music,” she said. “It’s so corny.” She took out the stolen handkerchief and used it. It wasn’t new anymore. Not that it mattered. Not that it mattered what Nicky thought. Sybil was what mattered. Sybil’s future was the prize. “I’m fine,” she declared. “I’ll tell them why I did it. Either they’ll believe me, or they won’t. It doesn’t matter.”

“They’re your parents,” Scotty said.

“They’re Sybil’s parents, too,” Claire said. “We need the money for her. I’m the one who figured out how to get it. Nicky’ll understand. Megs will be grateful.”

“Do you have any idea of how beautiful you are?” Scotty asked. “Wet cheeks and all.”

Claire smiled. “That’s the one thing I do know,” she said. “Is it time for us to leave?”

“Just about,” Scotty said. He gestured for the waiter to bring the check, and Claire waited as he went through the charge card procedure.

“Do you want a ring?” Scotty asked as they left the Plaza. Claire wondered how long it would be before she could return to it. “Maybe we should get one. It might not be legal otherwise.”

“Something cheap,” Claire said.

“I’m sure it would be returnable,” Scotty replied.

“That would be a nuisance,” Claire said. “You might have to come back to New York.”

“That’s right,” Scotty said. “How about my class ring? I don’t think it matters what kind of ring it is, just as long as you have one.”

“I’d be honored to wear your class ring for the hour and a half we’ll be married,” Claire said. It looked big enough for her to slip two fingers through. She’d have to remember to give it back to him before she lost it.

Scotty hailed a cab, and instructed him to go to city hall. There were no announcements this time, and no stories about the joys of married life. Just a quiet cab ride down the city streets.

They were more assured this time, less frightened by the building and all that went on in it. They asked the right people for the right information, found the right office, and waited until it was their turn. The wait took about an hour.

“Lots of people get married this time of year,” one of the men waiting there informed them. “For tax purposes.”

Claire nodded. She had never thought about marriage as a tax dodge, but then most people didn’t think about marriage as a way of financing their sister’s rehabilitation. Or as a way of getting back at a girl who refused to love you, by marrying the sister she couldn’t stand. Or as a way of securing an introduction to a grandfather who didn’t know you were alive. Or as a way of showing your parents they couldn’t always count on you to be sensible, to wear your overcoat, to get good grades and come in before curfew. Marriage clearly meant different things to different people. For Nicky and Megs it had been a start to their universe. Who knew what it had been to Scotty’s parents, or Sam’s.

“Nervous?” Scotty asked, as all the other grooms seemed to be asking all the other brides.

“No,” Claire said. “You?”

“No,” he replied. “I was nervous before we got here, but now it feels right.”

“In a lot of ways, I love you,” Claire said. Then she laughed. “It figures I’d fall at least a little in love when I was sixteen.”

“In a lot of ways, I love you, too,” Scotty replied. “And I will no matter how things turn out.”

“If I ever have a baby, I’ll name him for you,” Claire promised. Why not? It was her grandfather’s name, too.

“That I’m not ready to promise,” Scotty said. “My wife might have some say in the matter.”

The couple sitting next to them gave them a funny look. Scotty and Claire laughed. “It’s a private joke,” Claire said. “I hate my name. I would never name a baby after me.”

“I know how you feel,” the woman said. “Besides, I think it’s terrible, when the girl is a junior. Nancy Junior or Cheryl Junior. There are so many pretty girls’ names, too, to choose from.”

Claire nodded. “His name is Prescott,” she said. “It’s an old family name. I think it sounds so distinguished.”

“This one is Charlie,” the woman said, punching the arm of the man sitting next to her. “I suppose Charlie Junior is okay. Or we could call him Chuck.”

“Over my dead body,” Charlie said.

“We have a while to decide,” the woman said. “No kids right away. That’s what we agreed on. Right, Charlie.”

“No kids forever, as far as I’m concerned,” Charlie said. “I already have two and the support payments are killing me.”

“We’ll have kids when the time is right,” the woman said. “The two of you are so young. Is it one of those, you know, you have to get married situations?”

“Not the way you think,” Claire replied, but before she had a chance to make up a reasonable explanation, Scotty’s name was called.

“That’s us,” she said. “Good luck.”

“Good luck to you, too,” the woman said. “Many happy years together.”

Claire smiled. They’d be lucky if they had many happy minutes. She took Scotty’s hand, and they walked to the door.

“Remember,” Scotty whispered to her. “When you let Thea know, be gentle. I don’t want this to hurt her too much.”

“I promise,” Claire said. It figured. Scotty would see to it that Thea was included in their wedding party. “Shall we get this over with?”

“That’s fine with me,” Scotty said. He opened the door, and he and Claire and Thea’s ghost and Sybil’s future all joined hands in wedded bliss.

CHAPTER TEN

“Mom. Oh, Mom.”

Claire watched as Scotty threw himself into his mother’s arms. His mother stood still for a moment, then embraced him. “It’ll be all right, darling,” she murmured. “We’ll get you out of this mess somehow.”

“Could I sit down, please?” Claire asked. “I feel faint.”

“My God,” Scotty’s father said. “You aren’t pregnant.”

“No,” Claire said. “Just hungry.”

“This way,” Mr. Hughes said. Claire followed him into the living room. Scotty had called his parents from the airport in New York to tell them what he’d done, so his family had had a couple of hours to work their way into total hysteria. Claire would have preferred to spring it on them at the front door, but she wasn’t about to argue with Scotty. Not when he’d done all she’d asked him to and more. Not when he was starting to realize just what it was he had done, and what the consequences might be if Claire didn’t live up to her end of the bargain.

Neither one had spoken during the flight back to Boston. There were no strategy meetings, no descriptions of parents and grandparents to ease Claire’s mind. The drive to Concord had been almost as quiet. Now they were back, and now the noise would begin.

“You are a beauty,” Mr. Hughes said, looking Claire over. “I can see how you might sway Scotty.”

Claire sat down on one of the sofas. She felt less like a beauty than she ever had before. She was grimy, wrinkled, and close to tears. She clutched her once-new handkerchief and wished she were twenty years older and a thousand miles away.

“How could you do this to my son?” Mrs. Hughes asked. She dragged Scotty into the room with her, and stood in front of Claire, her eyes glaring. Scotty looked fifteen, at most. Claire would have felt sorry for him if she could.

“I’d really like to freshen up,” Claire said. “May I be excused for a moment?”

“Certainly,” Mr. Hughes said. “The bathroom is down the hallway.”

“I know,” Claire said. She got up and left the Hughes family behind. Mrs. Hughes was hugging Scotty again. Claire was sure that was the most Scotty had ever been hugged in his life. One good thing at least had come from the marriage.

She used the bathroom, then took a few moments to wash her face, brush her hair, and straighten herself out as best she could without a change of clothing available. She wished she’d packed a few extra items, but she had miscalculated how long getting married would take. She only hoped that was all she’d miscalculated.

I am beautiful, she told her reflection. I am beautiful and I’m smart, and I can handle anything. I know what I want, what I need, and I know how to get it. She held on to the sides of the sink and willed herself to be strong. Only when she was sure she could handle the Hugheses did she rejoin them in the living room.

“How did you know where the bathroom was?” Mr. Hughes asked before she even had a chance to sit down.

“Scotty brought me here,” she said. “A few days ago. It’s a beautiful house.”

Mr. Hughes frowned. “You never told us that, Scotty,” he said.

“Claire wanted to see what it looked like,” Scotty said.

“She wanted to see how rich you were,” his father said. “Let me assure you, young lady, that looks can be deceptive. This house has been in the family for generations, as have most of the furnishings. On my income, I could hardly afford to buy most of what we display here.”

Claire tried hard not to laugh. “Would a cup of tea bankrupt you?” she asked. “I could really use one.”

“She wants tea,” Mr. Hughes said, obviously affronted by the idea.

“I can make it for myself, if you want,” Claire said. “I know where the kitchen is, too.”

“I’ll ring for Edna,” Mrs. Hughes replied, and she did. A maid materialized almost immediately, and Mrs. Hughes asked for tea for all of them. Claire wondered if the maid had been inherited as well, but refrained from asking.

Claire used the distraction as an opportunity to examine Scotty’s parents. Bradford Hughes was Clark’s first cousin. He was a couple of years older than Clark, and had a bit less hair, but Claire could see the resemblance. It was the weak chin, she decided, the aristocratic pallor. Neither were men Claire would ever want to deal with; both were now men vitally important in her life.

It was Scotty’s mother who really intrigued her, though. This was Sebastian Prescott’s daughter. This was Nicky’s half sister, Claire’s aunt. There was a family look to them, although it was hard to pin down just what it was. Bone structure, she finally decided, the shape of the face, and the nose. And their bearing was identical. That was it, the way they walked and sat and stared into you. Claire had always thought of it as Nicky’s Spanish-grandee look, and she was uncomfortable seeing it on a stranger, no matter how intimately they were related.

The tea was served, and Mrs. Hughes poured Claire a cup. Claire sipped from it gratefully. The day had turned bitter cold, and the atmosphere in Scotty’s home wasn’t warming her up any.

“I believe Scotty said your name was Claire Sebastian,” Mrs. Hughes said.

Claire nodded. “You know my sister Evvie,” she said. “You met her at Eastgate, when she was saying with our great-aunt, Grace Winslow. And I feel as though I already know you, Mr. Hughes, from all that your cousin Clark has told us about you. He’s my mother’s oldest friend.”

“You don’t look like Evvie Sebastian,” Mrs. Hughes declared. “She was a blond girl, very pretty.”

“She still is,” Claire said. “You may know my mother, Mr. Hughes. Margaret Winslow Sebastian?”

“We met when she was quite young,” Mr. Hughes said. “Have you told your parents what you’ve done?”

Claire shook her head. “They’re in Oregon right now,” she replied. “I didn’t have the chance.”

“Oregon?” Mrs. Hughes asked. “What are they doing in Oregon?”

“Remember that Thanksgiving I spent with the Sebastians?” Scotty asked. Claire was grateful to see he was still alive. “Sybil, that’s Claire’s sister, was in an accident. She’s in Oregon now at a rehab center and her parents are with her.”

“I didn’t think you lived in Oregon,” Mrs. Hughes said. “I thought your family lived in Pennsylvania.”

“We did for a while,” Claire said. “Lately we’ve been living in Missouri. But we may be moving to Oregon now.”

“Not much stability,” Mr. Hughes said. “I suppose you felt if you married our son, he’d provide you with a home.”

Claire didn’t know how to answer, so she drank the tea instead.

“We weren’t really thinking when we got married,” Scotty said. “Hell, Dad, haven’t you ever done something spontaneous?”

“Not something this stupid,” his father replied. “Or so potentially costly.”

“I don’t want any money from you,” Claire said. “I’m not a gold digger, Mr. Hughes.”

“A good thing, too,” he said. “Since we have no gold for you to dig.”

“I don’t think we need to talk about money,” Mrs. Hughes declared. “Not when we’ve just settled down like this. Claire, how is your sister? Evvie, I mean. She seemed like such a pleasant girl.”

“She’s fine,” Claire said. And only what—twenty miles away? “She’s at Harvard now, and she’s engaged to marry a boy she met at Eastgate.”

“Sam Steinmetz,” Scotty said. “His grandparents owned the bookstore.”

“Ah, yes,” Mrs. Hughes said. “I believe Schyler mentioned something about that.”

“Where is Schyler?” Scotty asked. “Is he back here yet?”

“He’s in the library with your grandfather,” Mr. Hughes declared. “Grandmother is at church, praying that you might get out of this dilemma without irreparable damage.”

“She wept,” Mrs. Hughes said. “I’ve never seen Mother so distraught, Scotty. And Father. You can imagine how angry he was when he heard. Schyler’s with him just to keep him calm. He was threatening to disinherit you if it was true.”

“He wouldn’t really do that?” Claire asked. “Disinherit Scotty?”

“What concern is it of yours?” Mr. Hughes asked. “You won’t be in the picture by the time the will is read.”

“Please, Bradford,” Mrs. Hughes said. “All this is bad enough without talking as though Father were dead.” Claire thought she could hear a trace of southern accent in her voice. There was none left in Nicky’s speech, proving, she supposed, that Nicky had created his own accent much as he had created his own history.

“I think it’s important, dear, that this girl have a clear understanding of what the situation is,” Mr. Hughes declared. “She’s tricked Scotty into a sham marriage, and now she supposes that this family’s wealth will fall into her lap. It won’t, young lady. You won’t see a single penny from us. She may have used guile and deceit on Scotty, but we’re older and smarter and a good deal less gullible.”

“I didn’t marry Scotty for his money,” Claire said. “He’s nineteen. I knew he wouldn’t have any money of his own. And I certainly didn’t marry him so that five years from now or ten or fifteen, whenever it would be that he’d inherit some, I’d stand to get my share. I’m sixteen years old. What do I care about how much Scotty’s going to be worth in ten years?”

“You look older than sixteen,” Mrs. Hughes said, and Claire could see that for the first time Scotty’s mother was really examining her. In spite of herself, she blushed. Was Mrs. Hughes noticing the resemblance between Claire and Sebastian Prescott? Was it conceivable she could make the connection? They did share that damned name Sebastian. Claire wished for the first and only time in her life that Nicky had had more imagination. “I thought there was a Sebastian girl closer to his age.”

“That’s Thea,” Claire said. “She’s eighteen. There are four of us.”

“And not a penny to your names, I suppose,” Mr. Hughes said. “Has your mother raised you to cash in on your looks by seducing innocent boys?”

Claire put her teacup down and stared straight at Bradford Hughes. “My mother is Margaret Winslow,” she said. “Of the Boston Winslows. She was brought up by her aunt Grace. They are not the sort of people who raise their daughters to be anything less than honorable. If you continue to speak that way about my mother, I’ll leave this minute.”

“What makes you think we don’t want that?” Mr. Hughes asked. “Your immediate departure from our home?”

“You’re not a fool,” Claire replied, although she’d seen no proof to the contrary. “And I am your son’s wife.”

“That’s right,” Scotty said. “And you shouldn’t talk to Claire that way, Dad. She isn’t as bad as you think.”

Claire couldn’t help laughing. After a moment, even Scotty’s parents laughed.

Scotty looked puzzled for a moment. “I mean, she’s really all right,” he said. “What I mean is, her family, well, they may not be social register, but she is a Winslow. At least her mother used to be. None of this is coming out right.”

“I appreciate it, anyway, Scotty,” Claire said. “Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, I know this must be a shock to you, and I appreciate that you want to protect Scotty. But I don’t want to hurt him, either. I love him. He’s the sweetest boy I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t have married him if I didn’t love him. I hope you believe me.”

“Why should we believe you?” Mr. Hughes asked.

A reasonable question, Claire thought. She tried to count up how many lies and half-truths she’d told since entering their house, but there were too many to keep track of. “How could anyone not love Scotty?” she asked instead. “He’s smart and handsome and gentle. Mrs. Hughes, you understand, don’t you? He’s your son, you must see how special he is.”

Scotty’s mother put her hand on Scotty’s. “He’s my baby,” she said. “He’ll always be special to me.”

Scotty stared at his mother in wonderment. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said. “That I was special.”

“She said special to her,” Scotty’s father declared. “A son is always special to his mother. That has nothing to do with the issues at hand here.”

Claire looked at Scotty’s parents. His mother was a Prescott, and at least half an aunt to Claire. His father was a Bradford, and undoubtedly somewhere in Boston history, Bradfords had intermarried with Winslows. These people shared blood with Nicky and Megs, yet they couldn’t be less like them. Parents certainly were luck of the draw, but this was the first time Claire could remember feeling pleased with the pair she’d been dealt.

“Why did you marry our son?” Mr. Hughes thundered. Claire was surprised he had that much lung power.

“Because I love him,” she replied.

“Scotty, why did you marry this girl?” his father asked.

Scotty looked too dazed to reply. Claire doubted that he remembered his lines, anyway.

“Because I wouldn’t go to bed with him otherwise,” she said.

“What?” Mr. Hughes said. Mrs. Hughes merely looked pale. She held on to Scotty’s hand even more tightly.

“You heard me,” Claire said. “Scotty was frantic to go to bed with me. Why do you think he brought me here? To admire your antiques? But I wouldn’t sleep with him unless we were married. That’s the kind of girl I am. That’s how I was brought up.”

“Have you slept with him since you got married?” Mr. Hughes asked.

“We haven’t had the chance,” Claire replied. “Scotty changed his mind about the whole thing as soon as we exchanged our vows. He insisted we come back here right away, before we could give in to temptation. So we took the next shuttle back. He said you’d know how to get him out of this mess.” Claire risked letting a tear fall silently down her cheek. “I hate him thinking of me as a mess,” she said. “I love him so much. Oh, Scotty.” She reached her arm out toward him, but Mrs. Hughes protectively pulled him even closer to her.

“So the marriage hasn’t been consummated,” Mr. Hughes said.

“No,” Claire said. “It’s a marriage in name only. But if you’ll just give us a chance, I know I can make Scotty a good wife. I love him so much. I’d give up anything for him.”

“No!” Scotty said. “Claire, no. It was a mistake. Let’s get out of it before there’s too much damage.”

Claire was uncomfortably aware that, just as Scotty could no longer trust her, she could no longer trust him as well. Every one of his words had a double meaning. Only the reassuring thought that Sebastian Prescott was in the house with her kept her from panicking.

“I don’t suppose you have a lawyer,” Mr. Hughes said.

“Of course not,” Claire said.

“You’re better off without one,” Mr. Hughes said. “You are young, and I can see how you might have gotten carried away. Young blood runs hot. Passion overpowers common sense. My attorney can handle the entire annulment proceedings. It will be as though the two of you never met, let alone wed. A few papers will be signed, perhaps a court appearance will be required, and then you can go on with your separate lives. Scotty, of course, will return to college. And you can go back to Oregon or Missouri or wherever it is your parents are currently camped out.”

Claire didn’t care for his tone. She knew she’d promised Scotty not to take any money from his parents, but she didn’t have to take any garbage from them, either. She was their daughter-in-law, after all, and all they’d given her was a lousy cup of tea. And that hadn’t even been volunteered.

“I’m not trash,” she finally said. “And even if I were trash, you could learn a few manners.”

“I doubt a girl like you has anything to teach me about manners,” Mr. Hughes said.

Claire yearned to slug him in his weak chin. No wonder Nicky avoided all the Boston aspects of Megs’s life. “I don’t know what ‘a girl like you’ means exactly,” she said. “Could you be more specific?”

Mr. Hughes stared at her. “Cheap,” he said finally. “Whorish. Someone who uses her body to get what she wants.”

“Dad!” Scotty said.

“Really, Brad,” Mrs. Hughes said. “I think you should keep such opinions to yourself.”

“That’s right,” Claire said. “Because if I am what you said, then I’ll do anything I can to get money out of you. And if I’m not, then you’re just going to make me angry, and I might seek revenge by getting money out of you.” She smiled just to see his reaction. He didn’t smile back, but there was a greater look of respect in his eyes.

“You’re tougher than I thought,” he said.

Claire nodded. “I’m tough,” she said. “But I’m not cheap and whorish.”

“Please apologize to her, Brad,” Mrs. Hughes said. “This is a terrible situation, and we don’t want to make things worse by alienating her. Scotty’s future depends on what we do.”

Scotty looked miserable. Claire remembered how he’d been the night before in New York and tried to decide whether marriage or being back home was the problem. Probably both. She was in no mood to take all the blame.

“I spoke in haste,” Mr. Hughes said. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

Claire laughed. “You called me a whore,” she pointed out. “Of course you offended me.”

“Then I am indeed sorry,” Mr. Hughes said. “My wife is right. This is no occasion for name-calling. I lost my temper. It’s natural that I would be worried about Scotty. He’s only nineteen, and his future lies ahead of him. You can destroy that future, and that alarms me.”

It was a pretty speech, the sort Claire might make under similar circumstances. “I never meant to hurt Scotty,” Claire replied. She felt as though she were speaking in a foreign language, one whose words she knew but wasn’t comfortable with. “I love him, and I thought he loved me. I guess I was wrong. I guess it doesn’t matter. Even if he does still love me, we wouldn’t stand a chance. Not without your blessing.”

“I cannot possibly offer you my blessing,” Mr. Hughes declared. “When Scotty is older, and picks a bride more, shall we say, more conventional, then I’ll bestow my blessing.”

“I hope he’ll be very happy then,” Claire said. “I do want that for Scotty, that he should be happy. You believe me, don’t you, Mrs. Hughes?”

Scotty’s mother nodded. Claire realized that she didn’t even know her own aunt’s name. This was hardly the time to ask. Evvie might know.

“I’m sure you’re a very nice girl,” Mrs. Hughes said. “Young and impetuous, but respectable. Not any of those things Brad said about you. And I know you appreciate how worried we are about Scotty. Someday you’ll have a son, and then you’ll truly understand.”

If Claire had had any fantasies about mothering, she’d lost all interest in the past ten minutes. “I only hope I’ll be as good a mother as you are,” she said. “Scotty loves you so much. He told me about the time you share together, how he doesn’t get to see nearly enough of you, but when he does, how much he cherishes that time. That’s one of the things I love about Scotty. How much he loves you, even though you almost never had enough time for him. I mean, with him.” She smiled and poured herself another cup of tea.

“There will be legal arrangements to be made,” Mr. Hughes said. “Can we count on your cooperation?”

Claire nodded. She lifted the teacup to her mouth, and as she looked up, she saw a young man dazzling in his good looks. He had to be Schyler, she realized, her heart pounding. He was perfect. It should have been the two of them together. They would have made a couple so glorious that the world would have stopped to worship them.

Schyler stared straight at her, and smiled a smile of pure recognition. It wasn’t so much that they looked alike, although there was a resemblance. It was the shared soul of two great beauties. Claire yearned to make love with him. It would be like making love with a mirror.

“It’s Grandfather,” he said. “He wants to speak with Scotty.”

“No,” Scotty said.

“I’ll speak with him,” Claire said. She wished Schyler weren’t there to confuse her. “If he’s going to be angry, he might as well be angry with me.” She stood up, realized she was still holding the teacup, then bent down to put it on its saucer. As she rose, she again made eye contact with him. Their shared gaze was so powerful it hurt.

“I’ll take you,” Schyler said.

“No,” Claire said. “Just tell me how to find him. I’ll go myself.”

“Upstairs,” Schyler replied. “Second door on the right.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. She was astounded she could still walk. She brushed past Schyler as she left the room, and wondered if everyone else could feel the electricity. Schyler could, she knew. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, and now, thanks to this ridiculous marriage, it might be years before they could ever get together.

Claire forced herself to concentrate on her mission. She was about to meet Sebastian Prescott, Nicky’s father, Sybil’s only hope. Nothing else mattered. Everything she’d gone through, she’d done for this moment. Everything she still had to face would be justified by the outcome of this meeting.

She knocked on the door, and waited for him to say, “Come in.” The voice was imperious and angry.

Claire took a deep breath and turned the knob until the door opened. There he was, sitting behind a desk in a room lined with first editions and paintings of setters and spaniels. There he was, Nicky’s father, the only person in the world Nicky truly resembled, except for his daughter Claire.

Claire entered the room and walked straight toward the man. She’d managed to grab her overnight bag when she’d left the living room, and she held on to it tightly. When she reached the desk, she put the bag down first, then swung herself up on the desk until she was sitting two feet away from Sebastian Prescott. She witnessed his shocked response to her nerve, her closeness, her face, her very being.

“Hiya, Gramps,” she said. “It’s about time we met, don’t you think?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sebastian Prescott turned bright red.

Claire inched herself closer to him, while continuing to swing her legs off the side of the desk. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “You must think I’m awfully presumptuous calling you Gramps just because I married your grandson a couple of hours ago.”

“Get off this desk immediately,” Mr. Prescott said. Claire was grateful that he could still speak. She should have found out if he had a blood pressure problem. It was too late now.

“Calm down,” she said, making no effort to move. “Relax. This won’t be too painful, I promise.”

“If you’re after money from me, the answer is no,” Mr. Prescott declared. “So you can forget your foolish schemes and leave at once.”

“Hear me out, Gramps,” Claire said. “Or do you prefer something more formal? Grandfather, maybe, or Grand-père? You’re not French, though, are you. I’d love it if you were French.”

“You are a stupid young woman,” Mr. Prescott declared.

“No,” Claire replied. “You’re wrong. You have no idea how wrong you are.”

“Why did you come in here in the first place?” he asked. “I wanted to see my grandson, not you.”

“Grandson, granddaughter, what difference does it make?” Claire replied. “Or haven’t you seen the family resemblance?”

“You are delusional,” Mr. Prescott said. “Get out at once.”

“Not until I give you my father’s regards,” Claire said. “Nicholas Sebastian is my father.”

“I’ve never heard of him,” Mr. Prescott declared.

“Oh, that’s right, you wouldn’t have,” Claire said. “The one time you met, he was still George Keefer.” She laughed. “I don’t know anyone who looks less like a George Keefer than Nicky,” she declared. “It was right after he came to visit you that he changed his name. Nick Sebastian suits him so much better. The Sebastian, he borrowed from you, but I don’t know why he picked Nicholas.” She paused for a moment to watch Sebastian Prescott’s reaction, and she wasn’t disappointed. He ceased being flushed with anger, and after a moment’s puzzlement, turned pale. He clutched the desk with his hands, and stared straight at her.

“Surprise!” Claire said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mr. Prescott said. “Who’s this George Keefer you keep mentioning?”

“You have a good memory, Gramps,” Claire said. “I only mentioned him once. You don’t mind if I call you Gramps, do you? There’s been a real shortage of grandparents in my life, and I always thought it would be great to have a Gramps of my own. And now I do.”

“I’ve never heard of a George Keefer,” Mr. Prescott said. “I don’t know why you keep persisting in this fairy tale.”

“It’s no fairy tale,” Claire replied. “A long time ago you had an affair with your secretary. I guess that was what businessmen were supposed to do in those days. She got pregnant, which wasn’t in her job description, and you paid her off. No big deal, at least not to you. Only, eighteen years later, into your office walks George Keefer, calling you Dad and making like he wants a family reunion. You know and I know all he’s after is some money, so you pay him off, too. You’re good with the checkbook, Gramps. I’ll give you that. Another twenty-five years or so pass, and in walks George’s daughter Claire. Your granddaughter, Mr. Prescott. Your very own flesh and blood.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said.

“How can you not?” Claire asked. “You look exactly like Nicky, or at least the way he’s going to look in about thirty years. I can’t wait to tell him he won’t be bald. That’ll be such a relief for him. Nicky’s very vain about his appearance. I am, too. I suppose you are, also. Vanity runs in a family, like dark hair and high cheekbones.”

“If Keefer, or Nicky, or whatever he calls himself, sent you here, he’s going to be very disappointed,” Mr. Prescott declared. “He’s gotten all the money from me he’s ever going to see.”

“Nicky doesn’t know I’m here,” Claire said. “Nicky doesn’t know you’re alive. He probably doesn’t care, either. He made up a much better daddy than you ever were. Some noble hero who died during World War Two. He doesn’t even give you credit for his college education. He claims his high-school English teacher paid for that. Poor Gramps. You give a boy a headstart in life, and he never even thanks you.”

“How do you know all this?” Mr. Prescott asked. “What you’re claiming, I mean, about Keefer.”

Claire smiled. “That’s where the story gets interesting,” she said. “Not that I don’t love all the sleazy parts about the affair and the payoffs. You see, after George Keefer became Nick Sebastian, he met my mother. Her name was Margaret Winslow. Your son-in-law Brad knows her. Anyway, Megs’s guardian, Grace Winslow, hired a detective to find out about Nicky. She didn’t trust him, and rightly so. I’m sure she’d be delighted to tell you everything that’s in the report. She told me, after all, and my older sister Evvie.”

“Evvie?” Mr. Prescott said. He’d gotten some color back in his cheeks, but he still seemed to be shocked by what was going on. Claire couldn’t blame him.

“There’s a bunch of us,” Claire said. “Nicky and Megs have four daughters. I’m number three, but I’m the only one who looks like you. I brought a picture. Hold on, and I’ll dig it out.” She opened her overnight bag, and located the snapshot, which she handed to Mr. Prescott. “There’s Nicky, see how much he looks like you, and Megs, she’s squinting, and then there’s Evvie and Thea and my younger sister, Sybil, and me. It’s an old picture, but it should serve as an introduction.”

Mr. Prescott stared at the picture. Claire decided not to rush him. It was his first glimpse of his son in twenty-five years. Once he’d had his fill, he flung the picture across the room.

“I know,” Claire said. “It’s a little overexposed.”

“I want you out of here,” Mr. Prescott said. “Right away.”

“Believe me, I sympathize,” Claire replied. “You probably want some time to yourself, to compose yourself, think about the appropriate way of welcoming me to your family. You have a choice, after all. Granddaughter, or granddaughter-in-law. Birthday cake, or wedding cake, that sort of thing. I don’t care which way you go, so pick what’s most comfortable for you.”

Mr. Prescott swung his arm across the desk and slapped Claire hard.

“Hey, that hurt!” Claire said, trying not to rub, not to cry.

“That’s nothing compared to what I can do to you, if you don’t leave immediately,” Mr. Prescott said. “Get out at once.”

Claire jumped off the desk and walked over to where the picture lay. She bent down and picked it up, then walked back to the desk and pushed the snapshot at Mr. Prescott. “This is your family,” she said. “As much as Schyler and Prescott are. Look at them.”

Mr. Prescott’s eyes lowered toward the photograph.

Claire waited until he was through looking, and then she pulled the picture back. “You gave my father nothing,” she declared. “Just a few thousand, not even enough to put him through college. I bet you were more generous to your other children. I bet they got everything you had to give them, trips, and college, and cars, and savings bonds, and memberships in all the right country clubs. All Nicky got were your looks.”

“My children were born in wedlock,” Mr. Prescott said. “Naturally, they were entitled to all I had to give them.”

“Including your moral standards, no doubt,” Claire said. “Let me tell you, there’ve been lots of times I haven’t liked Nicky, but I know he would never cheat on Megs. And if somehow he found out he had an extra kid lying around, that kid would be as much my sister or brother as Evvie or Sybil or Thea. You knew all those years that there was a child. The birth certificate might have said ‘father unknown,’ but you knew. And you let him grow up without once seeing how he was, seeing if there was something you could do for him. Nicky’s stepfather was a drunk and he used to beat him, and his mother got sick and died when he was a kid, when he was my age, and you weren’t there to help. He could have starved, and you wouldn’t have cared.”

“I had a family to care about,” Mr. Prescott said. “I had a family to protect.”

“You had yourself to protect,” Claire said. “You and your lousy reputation.”

“I do not have to justify myself to you,” Mr. Prescott said. “I have no legal or moral responsibities to your father or you.”

“I used to picture having a grandfather,” Claire said. “My mother’s an orphan, too, a real one, so I never had grandparents. I never dreamed that I did have a grandfather somewhere, and that he was slime.”

“I hit you once, young lady,” Mr. Prescott said. “And I would be perfectly willing to hit you again.”

“It’s going to be real hard to explain if I come out of here with a black eye,” Claire replied. “And you’re going to have enough explaining to do, anyway, so I wouldn’t aggravate the situation if I were you.”

Mr. Prescott stared at Claire with such loathing that it took all her strength not to turn away. She’d come too far to let him bully her out of there. There were too many unsettled debts.

“I think,” she said, “that I’m a lot like you.”

“Get out,” he said. “Before I call the police.”

Claire laughed. “That’s the silliest thing you’ve said yet,” she declared. “First of all, I haven’t committed any crimes. I’m here with your grandson, who happens to be my husband. And even if that constitutes trespassing, you’re not going to bring the police into this. You don’t want to bring anyone into it. This is just between you and me. That’s the way you really want it. We both know that.”

“What is it that you want?” he asked.

“A lot of money,” Claire replied. “As much as you’re willing to give.”

It was Mr. Prescott’s turn to laugh. “I’ll give you nothing,” he declared. “You’ll go out of here as penniless as when you entered.”

“I have nothing to lose, then,” Claire said. “That’s the great thing about being poor. You, on the other hand, could stand to lose a whole lot.”

“Your father has no legal claim on my wealth,” Mr. Prescott said.

“I don’t know,” Claire replied. “I’m not a lawyer. But I would think that if Nicky brought—what is it called—a nuisance suit against you, it might net him a few dollars. After all, if he could prove your paternity, he’d have a claim on your estate.” She had no idea if she was right, but she thought that was how it worked on television.

“What’s to prevent him from doing that, even if I do give you the money?” Mr. Prescott asked.

Claire tried to keep the relief she felt from showing. One slipup, and she could lose it all. But she could see he was weakening, and she needed to know that. “Nicky doesn’t want to have anything more to do with you than you want to have with him,” she replied. “Hell, if I could find you, he could find you. Obviously, he hasn’t been looking.”

“Then what makes you think he’d take my money?” Mr. Prescott asked. “If he’s as proud as you claim he is.”

“Because it wouldn’t be for him,” Claire said. “It would be for my sister Sybil. That’s your youngest granddaughter, at least on Nicky’s side. Sybil’s fourteen now. Two years ago, she was hit by a hit-and-run driver. She’s been crippled ever since. You’d like Sybil, if you ever got to know her. She drives a hard bargain, too.”

“So I’m supposed to contribute to some fund for her behalf,” Mr. Prescott said. “Just offer you a little charity?”

“I prefer to think of it as blackmail,” Claire said. “Charity’s such an ugly word.” She smiled broadly.

Mr. Prescott sat back in his chair and laughed. “I don’t frighten you, do I?” he said.

“Sybil’s future frightens me,” Claire replied. “You’re nothing compared to that.”

“Very well,” Mr. Prescott said. “Since it’s for such a worthy cause, I’ll contribute to your fund. How does five thousand dollars sound to you?”

“It sounds like garbage,” Claire said.

“Don’t push me, girl,” Mr. Prescott said. “Or else you’ll walk out of here empty-handed.”

“Out of here and into your daughter’s living room,” Claire replied. “And I’ll stay there until your wife gets in from church. I like a woman who prays a lot. It shows respect for traditional values, like the sanctity of marriage. How many secretaries have you had over the years, Gramps? How many little George Keefers have shown up to embarrass you?”

“Five thousand,” Mr. Prescott said. “Take it or leave it.”

“A hundred thousand,” Claire said. “And cheap at twice the price.”

“You’re mad,” Mr. Prescott said.

“Not as mad as your wife’s going to be,” Claire said. “She might not like getting four stepgranddaughters all in one afternoon. That’s a lot of birthdays she’s going to have to write down on her calendar. Mine’s coming up in a month, by the way. I’ll be seventeen. Don’t make too big a fuss. My mother’ll bake a cake.”

“Five thousand,” Mr. Prescott said.

Claire sighed. “Maybe you have a hearing problem,” she said. “Or simply a lack of imagination. Let me lay the whole situation out for you, in simple, easy to understand language. I am your granddaughter. My father, Nick Sebastian, is your illegitimate son, George Keefer. My mother, your daughter-in-law, is Margaret Winslow. Your son-in-law Bradford Hughes grew up with her, danced at the same cotillions. At best, he’s going to be embarrassed to learn she’s his sister-in-law. At worst, he’s going to be furious at the scandal it’ll cause if the truth comes out. Maybe not so much about Nicky; after all, that was a long time ago, and probably, the only people who’ll care are your wife and your other children. But I’m married to your grandson. And that could make for interesting reading.”

“Prescott,” Mr. Prescott said, and Claire could see he’d finally made the connection. “Does he know?”

Claire shook her head. “He’s such a sweet boy,” she said. “He worships the ground you walk on. You should hear him talk about you. He says you’re tough, but you’re honest. He says he only wishes his father was more like you, living by the Ten Commandments. How did he put it—an upright, moral existence. I had a hard time keeping a straight face when he came out with that one.”

“Prescott must never know,” his grandfather said.

“I don’t look forward to telling him,” Claire said. “I’m not even eager to meet your wife or to tell my new mother-in-law that she’s my aunt. Hell, once I get out of here, all I’m going to want to do is take a bath. But if I have to embarrass myself to drag you down with me, you’d better believe I’m going to. I’m not Nicky. I don’t have any pride. At least, not where Sybil’s concerned.”

“Am I supposed to find that admirable?” Mr. Prescott asked. “Am I supposed to embrace you, welcome you to the bosom of my family because you love your sister?”

“I’d sooner eat dog turds,” Claire said. “This isn’t a Shirley Temple movie. I don’t want your love. Just your money. You give me a hundred thousand dollars, and I’m out of your life, and Prescott’s. You don’t shell out the money, then who knows what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll talk, tell my in-laws all about my family history. Or maybe I’ll just get Prescott alone somewhere near a bed, and let nature take its course. Our grounds for annulment are nonconsummation, but that can be changed easily enough. He wants me, you know. He wanted me enough to marry me. I guess you wanted Nicky’s mother, too, but not that much. She was easier than I am.” She looked down at her hands, to make sure they weren’t trembling, and noticed Scotty’s class ring still on her finger. She should have let him buy her a wedding ring, she thought. The scene would have played better with a wedding ring. Her problem was she was just too damned nice.

“Ten thousand dollars,” Mr. Prescott said.

Claire bit back a grin. “That won’t even cover my expenses,” she said. “You think it’s cheap getting someone to marry you these days? Not to mention the legal fees for getting unmarried.”

“Don’t be frivolous with me,” Mr. Prescott said.

“I haven’t been,” Claire replied. “If I’d wanted to be frivolous, I could have done a lot more damage. Lucky for you, I’m fond of Prescott. He’s a nice kid. He deserves better than you or me. But if I have to, I’ll hurt him so badly he’ll never speak to you again. Because, from now on, if you don’t give me what I want, everything I have to do, I’ll blame on you. And if I wreck Prescott’s life, which I have the power to do just as long as we’re married, I’ll see to it your daughter finds out why. She’ll hate you for what I do. So will your wife. For ten thousand dollars, you leave behind a heritage of misery and suffering. For a hundred thousand, you buy your family peace of mind.”

“How do I know you won’t be back demanding more money?” Mr. Prescott asked.

“I’m doing this for Sybil,” Claire replied. “When she’s taken care of, then I’m taken care of. Besides, the one thing I have to be grateful to you for are my looks. Which I intend to use to get me a lot more money than you ever dreamed existed. This is a one-shot deal. Take my word for it. I don’t enjoy rolling around in mud enough to do it again.”

“Twenty thousand,” Mr. Prescott said.

Claire laughed, but she did some rapid thinking. Twenty thousand was awfully close to what she needed. It would be so easy to agree to it, and get the hell out of there, while she still had some pride left. It was no wonder Nicky had let himself be bargained down to one year’s college tuition. There was something really disgusting about begging for money from a relative.

“It’s twenty thousand or nothing,” Mr. Prescott declared.

“You said that about ten thousand,” Claire replied. “And about five thousand, too. As a matter of fact, you started by offering nothing. I think we’ve made a lot of progress in a very short time.”

“I’m not going to hand you a hundred thousand dollars,” Mr. Prescott said. “Not if you marry both my grandsons and my son-in-law to boot.”

“I suppose that’s your idea of a joke,” Claire said. “My idea of a joke is twenty thousand dollars. Now that we’ve both had a good laugh, how about making a serious offer?”

“Fifty thousand dollars,” Mr. Prescott said.

“I know,” Claire said. “It’s either that or nothing.” But then her mind worked, and she realized what he had just said. Fifty thousand. He’d skipped straight over twenty-four thousand, where she’d wanted him to stop. For a second, she almost told him so, told him to go back, and only give her what she’d planned on. Fortunately, her brain worked faster than her mouth.

“I’ll give you a check for fifty thousand dollars,” Mr. Prescott said. “On the condition that you agree to an immediate annulment of your marriage to my grandson, and that you never show your face to him or any member of his family, his grandmother included, again. They are never to know of your father’s relationship to me. If you violate this agreement, I will use every resource I have to destroy you. You talked to me about destroying my life, and I’ve taken your threats seriously. But you take mine as well. You are not yet seventeen. I can hurt you in ways you’ll have to live with this year and next, and all the remaining years of your life. Don’t think I’m impotent. I can see to it you don’t get into the college you want. I can see to it you don’t get the job you want. If need be, I can see to it that your face gets accidentally splashed with acid. Do I make myself clear?”

For the first time since they’d met, Claire liked her grandfather. “Fifty thousand,” she said. “And we both keep our lives free of acid.”

“What method of payment do you prefer?” Mr. Prescott asked.

“A personal check’ll be fine,” Claire said. “You can call your bank to cover it, if you don’t keep that kind of cash lying around in your account. And I trust you not to stop payment. You’re too aware of what the consequences would be if you did.”

“Fifty thousand, then,” Mr. Prescott said. He took a checkbook from his jacket pocket. “To whom should I make it out?”

Claire thought about how pretty a check for fifty thousand dollars made out to Claire Sebastian would look. “Better make it out to Nicky,” she said with a sigh. “That’s Nicholas Sebastian.” Maybe she’d ask him for a ten percent finders’ fee.

Mr. Prescott made out the check, and handed it to her. “Your father,” he said. “George, Nicky, whatever his name is. What became of him?”

“He went to Princeton,” Claire said. “And he got his degree there. Then he went into business for himself.”

“And now?” Mr. Prescott said. “What does he do now?”

“He breaks your heart,” Claire replied, putting the check in her overnight bag. “Thanks, Gramps. No, I mean, Mr. Prescott. Your check covers the name change, too.”

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Prescott replied. “I trust you’ll be willing to leave this house permanently?”

“You can witness my farewells,” Claire said. “Whoops. One more thing. I need cab fare back to Cambridge. I eloped without a penny in my pocket.”

Mr. Prescott took out his wallet, and handed over a twenty-dollar bill. “Happy birthday,” he said. “Now, say good-bye to my grandson, and leave decent people alone.”

“My pleasure,” Claire replied. She left the room feeling fifty thousand and twenty dollars richer on the outside, repulsive and deformed on the inside, where no one could see, where it truly counted.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Let me in,” Claire sang as she knocked on Evvie’s door. “It’s me, Claire.”

“What?” Evvie said as she let Claire in. “I thought you were in Missouri.”

“I lied,” Claire said. She kissed Evvie and gave her a celebratory hug.

“You lied,” Evvie said. “You’ve been gone for two days and you show up out of nowhere and tell me you lied, and I’m supposed to hug and kiss you?”

“Absolutely,” Claire said. She took off her ratty winter coat and her worn-through gloves and tossed them on the sofa. “Wait until you hear everything. No, better still, I’ll show you.” She opened up her overnight bag and took out the check. “See,” she said, brandishing it about. “I got the money for Sybil’s rehab.”

“What are you talking about?” Evvie said. “Are you going to be here awhile?”

“I guess,” Claire said. “At least until I go to Oregon.”

“Fine,” Evvie replied. “Then hang up your coat. I was just making tea. Want some?”

“I’d love it,” Claire said. “Do you have anything to eat? I’m starved.”

“There’s leftover pizza,” Evvie said.

“Okay,” Claire replied. She hung up her coat and fantasized about buying a new one. There certainly was money for it, for new coats for all of them. Fifty thousand dollars. Wait until Sybil heard.

Evvie brought out the cold pizza and the hot tea and sat down on the sofa. Claire sat down next to her. She grabbed a slice of pizza and devoured it.

“Now, what’s going on?” Evvie asked. “From beginning to end, starting with where you were all this time.”

“New York mostly,” Claire replied. “I went there with Scotty. We got married.”

“You did what?” Evvie shrieked.

“Got married,” Claire said. “Don’t worry about it. We didn’t consummate, so we’ll get it annulled in no time. His parents will take care of all the details. They promised.”

“And they paid you off,” Evvie said. “That’s where the check came from?”

“Even better,” Claire said. “His grandfather paid me off. Or should I say our grandfather. Sebastian Prescott himself. I told Scotty I wouldn’t take any money from his parents, but he agreed I could try to get whatever I could from his grandfather. It was a piece of cake. Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you have any in the house? Something about getting married makes you awfully hungry.”

“I bought cookies,” Evvie replied. “I always buy cookies when Sam’s away.” She went to the kitchen, and brought the box of cookies back with her. Claire took two and gobbled them down.

“I feel better,” she declared. “Scotty’s parents didn’t offer me anything to eat. I guess they were too upset.”

“Why should they be upset?” Evvie asked. “Because you eloped with their son, or because you announced you were their niece?”

“Just the elopement,” Claire replied. “I left out the part about how Nicky’s really a Prescott. That’s funny, our last name should be Prescott, not Sebastian. Claire Prescott. No, I guess I like Sebastian better.”

“I’m going to be sick,” Evvie declared. She left the room, and Claire listened as she threw up in the toilet. Claire ate another cookie, and wondered what Thea’s reaction was going to be. Probably much worse. She might spend the next few months puking once she heard.

“All right,” Evvie said as she sat down again. “You found out that Sebastian Prescott is Nicky’s father.”

“From Aunt Grace,” Claire said. “You half suspected she told me.”

“Three quarters,” Evvie said. “I wish you’d told me right away that you knew.”

“Why?” Claire asked. “You’ve been lying about it for four years now. I bet you’ve never even told Nicky that you know.”

“You’re right,” Evvie said. “I meant to at first, but then it just seemed cruel to bring it up, so I never did. I hate lying. I don’t have any instinctive abilities for it, like you and Nicky.”

“And Sam,” Claire said. “And Megs, too, for that matter.”

“Some people are born liars,” Evvie replied. “Others learn to out of necessity. But that’s beside the point. A lie’s a lie, I suppose. All right. Aunt Grace told you about Nicky. Did you tell her that Sebastian Prescott was Scotty’s grandfather?”

“It never came up,” Claire said. “You and I and the old man are the only ones who know all the connections.”

“I’m honored,” Evvie said. “Who else do you intend to tell? Or are you just going to buy a full-page ad in the Globe and announce it to the world?”

“I’ll tell Nicky,” Claire replied. “I don’t see how I can keep it from him. And Sam might as well know the whole story, since he knows most of it already. But that’s it. That was one of the conditions the old man made. His family isn’t to find out. And there’s no real reason to tell Sybil.”

“Or Thea,” Evvie said.

“There I can’t make any promises,” Claire said. “I have to tell her I married Scotty. It’s really important to him. It wasn’t easy convincing him, you know. He didn’t have anything to gain from it. Nicky’s hardly going to give him any money to break up the marriage. But he really wants Thea to know, and I don’t blame him, so I’ll have to tell her.”

“Tell her about the marriage, if you’ve got to,” Evvie said. “But leave the family history out of it.”

“Why?” Claire asked. “So she can continue to have illusions about Nicky?”

“Absolutely,” Evvie replied. “I mean it, Claire. You’ve done something terrible, and there’s no reason to make it any worse.”

“What’s terrible about getting fifty thousand dollars?” Claire demanded.

“What?” Evvie said.

“You heard me,” Claire replied. “Fifty thousand dollars from Sebastian Prescott himself.”

“I thought maybe he gave you five,” Evvie said. “I thought you were talking about at most a month at the rehab center.”

“He started at five,” Claire said. “I bargained him up. I figure half the money we can use for Sybil, and the other half can go to rent us a decent apartment, get Nicky started again. Only I really need a new coat. You could use one, too.”

“He gave you fifty thousand dollars?” Evvie asked.

“And I gave him my word that I’d agree to the annulment and never see Scotty again and never tell him we’re cousins of a sort,” Claire said. “It was a fair exchange. Besides, he owes us the money. What did he ever do for Nicky?”

“That’s between him and Nicky,” Evvie said. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m not sure I agree,” Claire said. “But it doesn’t matter. I had him make out the check to Nicky. I thought Nicky would like that, getting money from his father after all these years.”

Evvie stared at Claire. “I don’t know you at all,” she said. “I think sometimes I have you figured out, and then you do something so inexplicable to me, it’s like you’re a stranger.”

“What’s inexplicable?” Claire asked.

“What isn’t,” Evvie replied. “The way you used Scotty. The way you used me and Aunt Grace for that matter. The way you blackmailed Sebastian Prescott into giving you an enormous sum of money. The way you so wrongheadedly assume Nicky’s going to be pleased about it. The way you waltz in here like you’ve won the Nobel Peace Prize when you’ve hurt so many people in such a short time that I can’t even begin to estimate the damage.”

“I did it for Sybil,” Claire said.

“Oh, go to blazes,” Evvie said. “You did it for the pure joy of causing trouble.”

“You think I liked it?” Claire asked. “Having to go to bed with Scotty and snoop around and demean myself to get him to marry me and listen to all the horrible things his father and grandfather called me? My grandfather. You think it was fun?”

“Yes,” Evvie said. “I think it was fun.”

Claire began crying. “I hate you,” she said. “You’re as bad as Thea.”

“I am not,” Evvie said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with Thea. We can both see through you, that’s all, and you’re a deceitful person and you hate it when we’re not fooled by your tricks. Now stop crying and have some tea.”

Claire sniffled. “He slapped me,” she said. “Sebastian Prescott. Hard, too. Nobody’s ever hit me before, and I had to pretend like I didn’t mind. I didn’t like that, Evvie. I didn’t like being slapped. I did it for Sybil. I told myself he could hit me black-and-blue as long as I walked out of there with enough money for Sybil.”

“You walked out of there with twice as much money as she needs,” Evvie pointed out.

Claire shrugged her shoulders. “I’m good at what I do,” she replied. “He offered, I accepted. You would have done the same thing.”

“Never,” Evvie said.

“Then Sybil would be a cripple for the rest of her life,” Claire said. “If that doesn’t bother you, fine. I wasn’t about to let that happen. It was worth being slapped. It was worth using Scotty. It was worth anything I had to do. Because nobody else in this family knows how to raise that kind of money that fast. Only me. So I’m the one who did it.”

“What are you going to do the next time you need money?” Evvie asked. “Who will you sell your body to then?”

“The highest bidder,” Claire said. “You’re giving me a headache, Evvie. Do you have any aspirin?”

“In the bathroom,” Evvie replied. “Get it yourself.”

Claire got up and walked to the bathroom. She wanted Evvie to be excited for Sybil and proud of her. It wasn’t right she should be acting so righteously. She swallowed the aspirin and splashed some cold water on her face. She could still feel the shock of her grandfather’s slap, but the imprint was long gone. It didn’t matter. She hadn’t gone through all that just to be put on his Christmas card list. When Sybil walked across the room to Evvie, no crutches, no cane, maybe not even a limp, then Evvie would know who to thank.

“Feel better?” Evvie asked as Claire joined her.

“A little,” Claire said. “Too much excitement, I guess.”

“I can imagine,” Evvie said. “Claire, the reason I got so upset is because I love you, and it terrifies me that you play these sorts of games. You got away lucky this time, but someday you’re going to go too far and end up in terrible trouble. You think somehow your beauty will always protect you, but it won’t. Look at Nicky. I don’t want you to end up like that. You’re too smart, and inside you, there’s such a good person, someone so loving and true. That’s the Claire I love, and that’s the Claire I’m afraid you’re going to let die.”

Claire felt very uncomfortable. “I borrowed your picture,” she said, digging it out of her overnight bag. “I showed it to him. He spent a lot of time looking at it, too. I guess he wanted to see what Nicky looks like, so many years later, and what his granddaughters are like. Here. I hope you didn’t miss it.”

“You showed him this picture?” Evvie said, taking it from Claire. “You let him look at us?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “I did. What of it? You think it’ll have slime prints all over it now? What’s the big deal?”

Evvie shook her head. “If you don’t understand, I can’t explain it to you,” she replied. “Just leave that part out when you talk to Nicky. It’s his father, you know, and he must hate the man with every fiber of his being.”

“They look exactly alike,” Claire said. “It was spooky seeing what Nicky’s going to look like thirty years from now. I wish I could have taken a picture.”

“We’ll get along fine without any pictures,” Evvie said. “Drink your tea. It’ll make you feel better.” She took the picture from Claire and put it down on the table.

The telephone rang, and Claire jumped up to get it. Maybe it’s Schyler, she thought. Maybe he can’t get me out of his mind. It was Scotty.

“I can’t talk for long,” he said. “And I can’t talk too loudly. Schyler’s watching out for me, but my parents’ll kill me if they know I called you.”

“Hi, Scotty,” Claire replied. “Are things still bad over there?”

“You should have heard the lecture my father gave me,” Scotty said. “And Mom kept crying and hugging and calling me her baby. But Grandfather was the weird one. He just put his arm on my shoulder and muttered something about the sins of the father. I know he doesn’t like Dad very much, but I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. You were in there with him much longer than I expected. Did he say anything about my father?”

“He probably meant my father,” Claire said. “I don’t think he has much respect for my family.”

“Dad asked him if he’d paid you off, and he said yes,” Scotty declared. “So Dad asked him how much, but he refused to say. He just said, ‘Enough,’ and that he’d take it out of my inheritance when the time came. Mom really started crying then, but I think he was kidding. It’s hard to say. He looked ashen. What did you say to him?”

Claire took a deep breath. “I just made a few threats,” she said. “About what I’d do to you if we stayed married.”

Scotty laughed. “They must have been some great threats, from the way he looked,” he said. “Schyler says you’re gorgeous, by the way.”

So’s he, Claire thought, but didn’t say.

“So have you told your family yet?” Scotty asked. “They’ll be pretty excited that you came up with the money.”

“I’ve only told Evvie,” Claire said.

“Not Thea?” Scotty asked.

“Not yet,” Claire said. “I just got in a few minutes ago. And she isn’t here for me to tell.”

“That’s right,” Scotty said. “She’s in New York. Will you have any trouble tracking her down? Do you think she’s at Kip’s?”

“I’ll find her,” Claire said.

“Give me that phone,” Evvie said, and she grabbed it from Claire. “Scotty, this is Evvie. I want you to know I’m furious about what you did. Now you listen to me. She’s sixteen, Scotty. Stop laughing. She couldn’t have done any of this if you hadn’t been willing to go along with it. You had just as much say as she did. And I don’t like the way you used Claire, yes you used her every bit as much as she used you, to get back at Thea. You have problems with Thea, you deal with her directly. Don’t drag Claire into it. I don’t care if she chased you. I don’t care if this was all her idea. You married her. You risked hurting her, just to hurt Thea. I won’t have it, do you hear me?” She listened for a minute to what Scotty had to say, and then handed the phone back to Claire.

“That was fun,” Scotty said. “I don’t like being the villain in all this.”

“I know,” Claire said. “She’s been screaming at me, too.”

“You’ll tell Thea?” he asked.

“Yes,” Claire said.

“Fine,” Scotty said, and hung up.

Claire put the phone down and realized that that might well be the last conversation she’d ever have with Scotty. Her lover. Her husband. Just a curt request that she tell Thea what they’d done, and an equally curt guarantee that she would. That was what it came down to for him. Just hurting Thea. If Claire had liked Thea, she might even be angry.

Evvie shook her head. “He kept laughing,” she said. “As if this was all a joke.”

“It is to him,” Claire replied. “I couldn’t let him take it seriously. If he had, he never would have gone through with it.”

“What if you hadn’t gotten the money?” Evvie asked. “What if Sebastian Prescott had just refused, thrown you out? What then?”

“Then I would have done something else,” Claire said. “There’s always a way if you need something badly enough.”

“How do you think Sybil’s going to feel when you tell her what you did?” Evvie asked. “Proud of you? Or ashamed at how you sold yourself?”

“You don’t know Sybil,” Claire said. “You think I’m ruthless? I’m as soft as Thea compared to Sybil. The only thing Sybil really wants is to walk again. That’s it. That’s her universe. I could have sold myself to a Singapore brothel, and if it got her the money for the rehab, she wouldn’t care.”

“How can you say that?” Evvie asked. “Sybil isn’t at all selfish.”

Claire laughed. “You still think we’re the way we used to be,” she said. “Nicky and Megs slobbering over each other, and Thea writing her poetry, and Sybil hiding her pennies, and me being naughty. It isn’t like that anymore. That car didn’t just hit Sybil, you know. It flung all of us around. Megs sees Nicky is a failure, and Nicky sees that she knows that about him, and all Sybil’s life is, is pain and frustration. I even feel sorry for Thea. She keeps hanging on to Kip, and she would have outgrown him long ago if things were the way they used to be. And I’m not naughty. I don’t provoke Nicky for the pure joy of making him angry. I don’t even bother. He’s too pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic,” Evvie said.

“Cheap shot,” Claire said. “Not even an accurate one. Scotty’s father called me cheap and whorish, and he was a lot closer to the mark than you are.”

“Oh, Claire,” Evvie said.

“Don’t ‘Oh, Claire’ me,” Claire said. “You know, there’s always been something about you I didn’t like. I was never sure before what it was, because for the most part I do like you, much more than I like Thea or Megs or Nicky. But you insist on standing in judgment of me. I won’t have it anymore. I don’t care if you call me pathetic, or say that I’m great. I’m not interested. I’d kill for Sybil. I’d sell my body or my soul, or anybody else’s, to help her. But I don’t care what you think about that or anything else about me. I don’t judge you, Evvie. I don’t care that you’ve been living with a lie for four years now, that the man you love has been lying all his life. I don’t care that you’re a straight-A student, either. And I expect you to stop caring about me. We share the same family, that’s all. It’s an accident of birth. We don’t have to be any closer than Nicky is with what’s-her-name, Scotty’s mother. What is her name, anyway?”

“Vivienne,” Evvie replied. “You’re my sister, Claire. For me that means caring.”

“Fine,” Claire said. “Just keep it to yourself. Now, how am I going to get to Oregon? The old man gave me cab fare, but I didn’t think to ask him for a plane ticket.”

“There should be enough money in the joint account,” Evvie replied. “At least for a one-way ticket.”

“Good,” Claire said. “I wasn’t looking forward to begging from Clark.”

“What are we going to tell Clark, anyway?” Evvie asked.

“Nothing,” Claire said. “It’s none of his business. Will you have enough money for the rent if you buy me the ticket?”

“Sam always comes back from the Greenes with a check,” Evvie replied. “They worry that he doesn’t eat enough.”

“I like Sam,” Claire said. “I’m sorry about his mother.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Evvie said. “About that, and a whole lot more.”

“Don’t be sorry for me,” Claire said. “I did what I had to, and I don’t regret a thing.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Claire took the same flight to to Portland that Thea had flown two days earlier. She somehow expected the flight attendants to know that, to acknowledge her as Thea’s sister, but of course even if the crew were the same, Claire and Thea looked nothing alike. It was exhaustion, Claire told herself. She’d done more in the past two days than most people did in a lifetime. Marriage, annulment, reunion, exile. All that in less than twenty-four hours. Throw in a Broadway show, and you were entitled to be tired.

Nicky picked her up at the airport. Claire hadn’t known what arrangements would be made; there hadn’t been time for a phone call, and Evvie had promised she’d work out the details. For the first time that Claire could remember, she was truly pleased to see her father. Apprehensive, but pleased.

Nicky didn’t hug or kiss her, the way she knew he would any of his other daughters. That didn’t matter. “I have luggage,” she said. “We’ll have to pick it up.”

“Fine,” Nick said. They found their way to the luggage area, and waited along with everyone else for the appropriate bags. Claire’s were among the first to arrive, and Nicky grabbed them both, then carried them out to the car. It was a much nicer car than the one they’d been driving in Missouri. “Rental,” Nick explained. That was all he said to her until they got into the car. “Fine” and “rental.” Evvie had obviously had a long talk with him.

“How much did she tell you?” Claire asked as Nicky began the long drive to the motel.

“Everything,” Nick replied. “We’ll talk about it after I get out of the airport.”

Claire nodded. Because of the three-hour time difference the plane had come in at a fairly decent hour, but her body clock was still set to Boston time, and she yearned to sleep. She couldn’t sleep in public places; it made her feel too vulnerable. And Scotty had seen to it that they hadn’t gotten much rest the night before. It promised to be a grueling drive.

Nicky maneuvered the car through the airport traffic, and soon they were on a highway going out of town. “How was the flight?” he asked, as though he cared.

“All right,” Claire said. “Long. I had to transfer, and I worried about my luggage.”

“Thea said the same thing,” Nick replied. “Why did she come out, anyway?”

“She was worried about you,” Claire said. “That you might do something reckless.”

“So you did instead,” Nick declared.

“It wasn’t reckless,” Claire said. “There was no risk. If I failed, I didn’t lose anything.”

“Not even your innocence?”

“No,” Claire said. “Not even that.”

Nicky kept his eyes on the road, and drove at a steady pace, not caring if other cars passed him. Under ordinary circumstances, that would have driven Claire crazy. She loved speed, loved the sensation of being the fastest, but tonight she didn’t care. If Nicky wanted to play cautious, she wasn’t going to object.

“Thea and your mother were out,” Nick declared. “When Evvie called. I’m the only one who knows.”

Claire nodded. He never called Megs “your mother.” Megs was always Daisy to him. “Where were they?” she asked.

“Having supper with Sybil,” Nick replied. “Thea’s going back to New York tomorrow, and we’re leaving for Missouri the next day. They were having a farewell dinner together.”

“Without you,” Claire said. She suspected that Nicky’s forty-eight hours had been as storm-filled as hers.

“Evvie tells me you married the boy knowing the whole story,” Nick said, ignoring Claire’s comment. “Grace filled you in, and you put two and two together, and you tricked him into marrying you.”

“I didn’t trick him,” Claire said. “I was completely honest up to a point. He knew I was doing it for the money, and the money was for Sybil. I even told him I’d only take money from his grandfather. I just didn’t say he was my grandfather, too.”

“Am I supposed to think of that as honorable behavior?” Nick asked.

“I don’t care how you think of it,” Claire replied. “Someone had to come up with the money for Sybil. You know that.”

“I could have handled it,” Nick said. “I’m not a fool, Claire. I’m not incompetent. I would have raised the money somehow.”

“Maybe you would have,” Claire conceded. “But not as fast as I could. Nicky, it was an opportunity. You brought me up to believe in making the most out of opportunities. There he was, just waiting to be picked.”

“Pick-pocketed is more like it,” Nick said.

“You’re right,” Claire said. “Fifty thousand is petty cash to a man like that.”

Nicky laughed. “He isn’t that rich,” he said. “Not unless there’ve been some major changes in the past few years.”

“He figured he was getting off cheaply,” Claire replied. “I had Scotty and I had you to bargain with. All he had was meanness.”

“Fifty thousand is more than we need,” Nick said. “Were you planning on that, on overkill?”

Claire shook her head. “I almost told him no,” she admitted. “But then I figured we could always use the extra money. Especially now that we’ll be relocating in Oregon. I know we won’t be able to buy a house, but we’ll rent a nice apartment, and buy a new car, and that’ll still leave a few thousand for you to get started with. And Megs can get a job, and things’ll be all right again. I’m tired of being poor, Nicky. It might be fine for Thea, maybe even Evvie, but I don’t like it.”

“I don’t, either,” Nick said. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to accept this money.”

The car was getting warmer and more comfortable. Claire rolled her window down just a fraction to feel the air on her face. “You can’t tear up the check,” she declared. “It’s for Sybil.”

“Don’t you think I know that,” Nick said. “But there are things you don’t know.”

“Like what?” Claire asked.

“Like the agreement I made with him,” Nick said. “Never to take another penny from him. Never to see him again, or have any further contact with him or his family.”

“You were only eighteen,” Claire said. “None of that was legally binding.”

“I wasn’t even eighteen,” Nick replied. “Seventeen, just a year older than you. I was terrified, but I had nowhere else to turn.”

“He’s still scary,” Claire said. She thought about his threat of the acid and how she had known he wasn’t kidding. “What did he say to you that time?”

“Nothing flattering,” Nick said. “How does he look?”

“Fine,” Claire said, truly aware for the first time that Sebastian Prescott was Nicky’s father, that she was talking to Nicky about his own father, a man he’d only met once, and then for less than an hour. “He’s very handsome. He looks just like you, Nicky, only his hair is a beautiful shade of white. Very thick, though, like yours. Except for the hair color, the two of you look like brothers.”

Nicky nodded. “That was how I got in,” he said. “His secretary was so startled by our resemblance she let me through. I’m surprised Scotty’s family didn’t see it.”

“They were too busy with other things,” Claire said. “Besides, I’m a girl and sixty years younger than he is. I worried about it, but it worked out fine. It was a surprise attack.”

“Did he …” Nicky cleared his throat. “I mean, what did you think of him?”

Claire had seen Nicky a lot of different ways over the years, loving with his daughters, passionate with his wife, friendly with business associates, protective, angered, even, on rare occasions, relaxed. But she had never seen him so defenseless before. This is what fathers do to you, she thought. Even if you have no reason to care.

“I didn’t meet him under the best of circumstances,” she replied. “He’d called Scotty in to scream at him, only I went instead. And I was pretty offensive. I wasn’t there to beg, and I wanted him to know that. So after he got over being stunned, he was just plain angry.”

“Yeah,” Nick said. “It was the same when he met me.”

“But toward the end, I kind of liked him,” Claire said. “I felt a connection. Maybe it was just physical. I looked at him, and it was like looking at you thirty years from now, looking at me sixty years from now. I think he felt it, also. I think that’s why he gave me the money.”

“He gave you the money to get you out of there,” Nick said. “Out of his life.”

“That, too,” Claire said. “But I said something funny and he laughed. His laugh is a lot like yours.”

“What did you say?” Nick asked.

“I don’t remember,” Claire replied. “It doesn’t matter. When he laughed, it made me feel the way it does when I make you laugh. Proud. Like I’ve accomplished something. It makes me feel that you must really like me because I’ve said something to make you laugh.”

“Daisy used to laugh all the time,” Nick said. “Before the accident. I’d come home from work, and I’d hear her laughter. My mother never laughed. It wasn’t even a defense mechanism for her. She just never laughed.” He slowed down as a car pulled in ahead of them. “Scotty’s mother,” he said. “What’s she like?”

“It’s hard to say,” Claire replied. “She was mostly hysterical over Scotty. She was okay to me, though, nicer than his father, but I didn’t take that too seriously. They might have decided to divide up the roles that way. She looks a little bit like you, but I don’t think people would automatically assume you were … related.”

“I don’t even remember her name,” Nick said.

“Vivienne,” Claire said. “Evvie told me.”

“Vivienne, that’s right,” Nick said. “She’s a year older than me. Her mother was pregnant with her when he began the affair with my mother. There’s a son, too, a couple of years younger. Sebastian Charles. I thought when I first found out about him that would be what I’d change my name to. Charles Sebastian. But I couldn’t see myself as a Charlie.”

“No,” Claire said. “You must have made a terrible George.”

“No one called me that,” Nick said. “Nicholas was my middle name. My mother thought it was classy. I was always called Nick.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Claire said. “I could believe everything else Aunt Grace told me, but I could never picture you as a George.”

“My mother had a couple of kids with my stepfather,” Nick said. “It’s funny. I have two brothers and two sisters, and half of them I haven’t seen since I was sixteen, and the other half I’ve never met. I think about that sometimes, how many nieces and nephews I must have. Of course, now it turns out Scotty’s my nephew. I wish I could remember more about him, but the only impression I get is someone mooning over Thea. What’s he like? You must know him fairly well if you got him to marry you.”

“He’s crazy about Thea,” Claire said. “And he’s terribly lonely. He grew up in boarding schools. And he doesn’t like his grandfather at all. He says he’s cruel.”

“Then I guess you didn’t miss much,” Nick declared. “Daisy and I talked about it once, about how I should get in touch with him, let him know he had all those granddaughters, but I just couldn’t do it. You don’t know what it was like, Claire. Before I saw him, well I was seventeen, and the only time I remember being even close to happy was when I was in school. No, that isn’t true. The day my mother came to get me, after she got married, I was happy. I was four or five, and I’d been boarded out, mostly with relatives, never stayed with one family very long, but sometimes my mother would visit me, and that made me feel so good, because it meant I really had a mother. People made it abundantly clear to me that I didn’t have a father. So the day she took me with her, told me I was going to meet my new daddy, I think that was the happiest day of my life.”

“Even happier than the day you met Megs?” Claire asked.

“Even happier,” Nick replied. “By the time I met Daisy, I didn’t remember what happiness was anymore. She reintroduced me to it, but so much inside of me had already died. I went to live with my mother and meet my new father, and that night I was overexcited and I wet my bed and he hit me so hard he dislocated my jaw.”

Claire wished Nicky would stop talking. She didn’t want to know these things about him. She turned her face away, and stared out the window, looking at the lights on the side of the highway.

“By the time I met Prescott, I hated him for what he’d done to my mother, what he hadn’t done for me,” Nick said. “But I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to see I was his son and become my father. I had dreams, and I hated myself for that weakness, for letting myself fantasize like that. I had dreams of my own by then, and I knew I was being foolish hoping for a father, hoping for a real family. But I couldn’t stop it. I was just a kid, although I didn’t know that at the time. You’re like me that way. You think because you’re smart and ambitious that you must be grown-up as well. Well, I wasn’t and you aren’t, and I couldn’t control my dreams, so he smashed them for me. No father, no long-lost son. Just name-calling and yelling and not even as much money as I’d hoped for.”

“I got more,” Claire said. “I got enough to pay you back for what he did to you.”

Nick shook his head. “It doesn’t work that way,” he said. “Interest doesn’t accrue. When I took that money, I hated myself. I hadn’t counted on that. I went in there, after all, determined to get the money for my full college tuition. Either he was going to love me and be proud of me for what I’d accomplished, and be happy to give me the money, or else he was going to to be ashamed and frightened, and give it to me to keep me out of his life. Either way I was going to walk out of there with four years at Princeton paid for. I couldn’t even manage that. I hope you never loathe yourself the way I did that day. I knew I should have refused the money. I knew there are times when pride is the most important thing. But I took what he gave me. I took the crumbs just the way I always had. And I vowed never to do that again. I’d rather starve.”

“He didn’t give me crumbs,” Claire said. “Fifty thousand isn’t crumbs. He offered me that. His first offer was five thousand and I laughed at him. I didn’t even accept twenty, and I was tempted because it was almost enough. But I knew almost enough wouldn’t do it. You weren’t tough enough with him, Nicky. It wasn’t your fault. He was your father, and it’s hard to bargain with your father. But I didn’t care. I didn’t go in there thinking maybe he’ll love me, maybe he’ll straighten out my life. So I was tough with him, and he gave me all this money, and it’s for all of us. It’ll save us, Nicky. Sybil’ll walk again, and we’ll have a home, and you’ll start making deals just like you used to, and everything will be all right. That’s what this money is for. You can’t be proud about it. You can’t toss it away because it’s too much, or it isn’t enough, or somehow it offends your sensibilities. Your sensibilities don’t count. Sybil is what counts.”

“That’s a very pretty speech,” Nick said, and he sounded like Nicky again, like the Nicky Claire had to deal with and never much liked. “I think you’ve almost convinced yourself that it’s true.”

“It is true,” Claire said.

“The only person who really counts with you is yourself,” Nick declared. “All this is a stunt for you. Can you do it? Can you raise that kind of money using your beauty and your body and your wits? And you proved that you could, and Sybil’s going to benefit. But that was never your true motive. You wanted to test your powers. And there was the bonus of hurting Thea as well.”

“Why does everybody assume that about me?” Claire cried. “Why won’t people believe that I love Sybil?”

“I know you love Sybil,” Nick said. “But not nearly as much as you love yourself.”

“I’d better love myself,” Claire said. “Nobody else does. Not the way they love Thea.”

“That isn’t true,” Nick said. “And I don’t want Thea to know about any of this. It’s all been a game for you, marrying her boyfriend, taunting my father. But it would destroy Thea to find out what you’ve done.”

“I have to tell her,” Claire said. “Scotty and I made a deal.”

“Break it,” Nick said.

“Go to hell,” Claire said.

Nick slammed down on the brakes, and pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Give me that check,” he demanded.

“I will not,” Claire said. She turned to face her father, and stared at him, stared at her own mirror image. Nick’s face was contorted with rage, and she knew hers was as well.

“I will not have you hurting Thea,” Nick said.

Claire forced herself to laugh. “Hurting Thea’s my hobby,” she declared. “It’s what I do for relaxation. If I give you the check, and you tear it up, not only do I get to tell Thea all about Scotty and me, and all about your father and who you really are, and how you’ve lied to her all these years, I get to tell her how you destroyed Sybil’s only chance. She’ll really love you then. I’ll tell Sybil everything then, too. She loves you now because you’ve been going crazy trying to make her whole again. If she finds out you’ve kept her from this rehab center because of some stupid proud gesture, she’ll never forgive you. I know Sybil better than you do, better than anyone. You don’t want her to hate you. She’s stronger than your father, stronger than me. Thea’ll forgive you someday, but Sybil will cut you off as though you never existed. That’s what happens if you tear up this check.”

Nick closed his eyes for a moment, and Claire could see the anger dissolve, replaced by an emotion she didn’t care to name. “There are things you don’t know,” he said. “Things about me, about my past.”

Claire had trouble believing Nicky had any secrets left. “Does Megs know?” she asked.

“Megs knows everything,” Nick replied.

“Then it can’t be too important,” Claire said.

“I guess not,” he said. He turned and faced his daughter. “There’s nothing you’ve done that I haven’t done myself,” he said. “No tricks you know, I couldn’t have taught you.”

“I’ll give you full credit,” Claire replied. “If anybody asks.”

“I look at you, and I see myself,” Nick said. He shook his head ruefully. “Poor Claire,” he said. “Poor me.”

“I’m all right,” Claire said. “I don’t know how you are, though.”

“I don’t, either,” Nick said. “I do know, though, if I take this money, things will change. I’ll cross a line.”

Claire exulted inwardly. “What kind of line?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“The kind that’s best left uncrossed,” he said. “I’ve spent my life trying to be strong, independent, reliable. I’ve wanted desperately to be worthy of Daisy. Once I accept the money from my father, I won’t bother trying anymore. There won’t be any point. I’ll be a beggar again, only older and more bitter, with more death inside me. We’ll save Sybil, but at the cost of my soul.”

“It’s worth the price,” Claire said.

“You’re probably right,” Nick said. “But it’s my soul, and I’d grown almost fond of it.” He turned the key in the ignition, and started the car again. “Don’t tell Thea about my father, all right?” he asked. “Rub her nose in this business about Scotty if you must, but leave the rest out of it.”

“Sure,” Claire said,. She could give him that much. Besides, it might prove useful having something to hold over him.

Nick pulled the car onto the highway. Claire could see he was driving faster now, and he almost immediately passed another car. She looked out the window, and saw a shopping mall just closing for the night, the cars emptying out of its lot, the lights in the stores being turned off. “You should have loved me the best,” she said. “I’m the one who’s most like you.”

“But it was Daisy I loved,” Nick said, cutting ahead of a car in the left-hand lane. “I could just barely tolerate myself.”

Claire nodded. She was so tired. She yearned to stretch out in the backseat, as she had as a child, and let the movement of the car lull her to sleep. But exhausted as she was, she knew she could never trust her father enough again to leave herself that defenseless in his presence. More than one line had been crossed that night; more than one soul had been sacrificed. But it was for Sybil. She would be strong now, and that was worth all the lines and all the souls and all the peace that Claire could ever offer to the gods.

Turn the page to continue reading from the Sebastian Sisters series

CHAPTER ONE

“What a dump!”

“Claire! You came!”

“Of course I came, kiddo. I wouldn’t miss your sixteenth birthday for anything.”

Sybil Sebastian pulled her sister Claire to her and enveloped her in a hug. She had hoped Claire and Thea would come for her birthday, but Sebastian family finances were such that nothing could be counted on, not even the plane fare from New York to Boston.

“Let me get a look at you,” Claire demanded, and she checked Sybil out carefully. “I don’t believe you turned out as well as you did,” Claire said. “Sixteen. You look older.”

“I feel older,” Sybil replied.

“Thea kept weeping, all during the plane ride,” Claire said. “‘My baby sister is sixteen.’ She used to be unbearable before she turned eighteen, and now, she’s even worse.”

Sybil laughed. “Thea came, too?” she asked, not believing her good fortune.

“She’s downstairs cleaving unto Nicky and Megs,” Claire replied. “We were on the same flight as Evvie and Sam. They dropped us off here, and went back to their apartment. They should be here in an hour or so.”

“This is going to be the best birthday I’ve ever had,” Sybil declared. “All of us together.”

“We were together at Christmas,” Claire pointed out. “I don’t recall that as an especially fabulous time.”

“That doesn’t count,” Sybil said. “We’d just moved in, and Nicky was still smarting, and you could only stay until lunchtime because you had to work the next day.”

“Us models need our beauty sleep,” Claire said, trying to look haughty, but failing miserably. “It was too good a job for me to turn down, Syb. I wanted to stay longer, but I couldn’t.”

“I know that,” Sybil said. Of her three sisters, the one she was closest to, both in age and affections, was Claire. Evvie, the oldest, was generally regarded as the family anchor, but she’d left home for college when Sybil was only twelve, and for that matter, she’d left the family in some hard-to-explain way even before then, when she’d fallen in love with Sam Steinmetz Greene. Thea, who came next, always tried hard with Sybil, mostly, Sybil suspected, because she couldn’t get along with Claire, but Sybil had never especially cared for the way Thea tried to baby her. Sybil was the youngest, but she never regarded herself as a baby. Claire, on the other hand, was there for Sybil in a way that no one else in the family, except their father, Nick, could approximate.

Not that Sybil looked anything like Claire or Nick. She resembled Meg, her mother, although not as strongly as Evvie and Thea did. Actually, Sybil had been disconcerted to discover from examining an old family album, that the person she looked most like was the late unlamented Aunt Grace, Meg’s aunt and guardian. Aunt Grace, who had hated Nicky and disapproved of her niece’s marriage to him, had never truly loved Meg’s four daughters, and took pleasure in carrying the grudge beyond the grave. Stubborn, willful, obnoxious Aunt Grace, whose house Sybil now called home.

“How is life in the mausoleum?” Claire asked, glancing around Sybil’s fairly empty bedroom. “Still dank and gloomy?”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” Sybil asked.

“Years of practice,” Claire said, giving Sybil another hug. “Oh, Syb, I miss you so much. Move to New York, right now. Finish high school there.”

“You have Thea,” Claire said. “You can’t be lonely.”

“Thea.” Claire groaned. “I thought she was shaping up, when Kip finally dumped her. It took him long enough, but Thea eventually got the picture. I thought Kip was going to have to send out engraved engagement announcements before Thea finally acknowledged he was involved with somebody else.”

“Thea took it pretty hard,” Sybil declared. “She cried on the phone to Megs a lot. And that was when we were still in Oregon. I shudder to think what those calls must have cost.”

“Whatever the cost, Kip wasn’t worth it,” Claire said. “Not that Thea would admit it. And Megs wasn’t the only one to get those tear-stricken phone calls. I got more than my share, especially late at night. I don’t know why Thea thinks I care that she’s miserable after midnight. But now she’s involved with some new loser, and at least she’s cut down on the phone calls. Good thing, too. She was putting a real strain on my sisterly love.”

Sybil stared at her sister. She had a rough idea of how far Claire would take sisterly love. Sybil knew how much in debt to Claire she would always be. She also knew it was a debt Claire would never call her on.

“New York just isn’t big enough for Thea and me,” Claire said, this time choosing not to read Sybil’s mind. “Eight million people, and I keep bumping into her. If you’d just move in with me, you could handle Thea, listen to her endless confessions. She only plagues me because we have the same last name. You she actually loves. It would be a public service, Sybil.”

Sybil laughed. “We just moved here six months ago,” she said. “I think I should last it out a little while longer.”

“It is a dump,” Claire said, looking around. “An expensive dump, I grant you, but a dump just the same. What a hoot, Aunt Grace leaving the joint to Megs in trust, so Nicky can’t get his hands on it and sell it.”

“I never liked Aunt Grace,” Sybil said.

“I did,” Claire replied. “She didn’t like me because I look so much like Nicky, but I liked her. She had a wicked sense of humor. Her will proves it. Leaving Megs only the house, no furnishings, no artwork, just the house. I’m surprised the trustees didn’t peel the wallpaper off. She must have known Nicky couldn’t begin to afford the upkeep on a Beacon Hill mansion. They can’t even sell it, because it’s only in trust for Megs. And Sam and Evvie can’t get it, because it’s officially left to Megs’s first legitimate Christian grandson. Now that’s the will of a funny lady.”

“I love this house,” Sybil said. She had never said that out loud, had hardly even allowed herself to realize it. Claire was the only person she could have confided that to. “For the first time, I feel at home.”

“I feel that way about New York,” Claire said. “Funny. Nicky and Megs gave us a thousand different homes, but none of them really counted. We had to find our own places.”

“I want to stay here forever,” Sybil said.

“Then have a legitimate Christian son,” Claire said. “You have a good shot at winning the sweepstakes. Evvie and Sam are obviously disqualified, now that they’re both Jewish, and I don’t see myself ever getting married, so that just leaves you and Thea. Knowing Thea, she’ll have girls. They’ll be born wearing lace. Get married, have a boy, and then the house is yours.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Sybil said. “Claire, I see myself at home here. I see myself walking down the hallways, checking polish on the furniture, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.” She paused for a moment. The truth was, she saw herself gliding, no limp, no moment of hesitation to gird herself before climbing the stairs. No canes, no crutches, no painkillers, no pain. She saw herself as healed. Aunt Grace’s house did that for her. She wasn’t sure why, or if it would last, or even if it was good for her, when canes and crutches and painkillers and pain were a part of her life, had been for years, would be forever, but she needed the fantasy. Maybe it had replaced Claire for her. Maybe that fantasy was the one thing Claire couldn’t give her. Maybe, at moments, she loved the fantasy even more than she loved Claire.

“The stairs don’t bother you?” Claire asked, and the fantasy was gone.

“Sometimes,” Sybil said. “On rainy days. My legs are always bad on rainy days. Nicky and Megs offered to make one of the downstairs rooms into a bedroom, but that wasn’t how the house was supposed to be, so I said no.” She remembered one night, shortly after they moved in, when the pain had been so bad, Nicky had simply carried her upstairs. She wondered if Nicky, or more likely Megs, had told Claire about it, but decided no, it was the kind of thing that didn’t get discussed in their family. A lot of painful things were kept to themselves. Sybil still didn’t know what Megs felt about Aunt Grace’s will, although she certainly had heard Nicky rant on the subject.

“If I could give you my legs, I would,” Claire said, staring straight into Sybil’s eyes. But then she laughed. “What a birthday present that would be!”

“It might cut your modeling career short,” Sybil said. “No pun intended.”

“It’d be worth it,” Claire said. “Besides, I’m only modeling to earn lots of money, and meet fabulous rich men. It’s not like I have the soul of a model. Half the models I meet are in it so people can tell them they’re beautiful. I’ve always known that. I don’t have to hear it endlessly.”

“You look a little more beautiful than you did at Christmas,” Sybil said, examining her older sister carefully. “Something’s different.”

“I don’t think so,” Claire said. “Of course, I can afford decent clothes again, and that helps.”

“No,” Sybil said. “It’s your eyebrows.”

“You do have a good eye,” Claire said. “The agency had me reshape them. Very slight difference, but they claim it shows up nicely in pictures. Are you sure you want to go into finance? You’d probably make a great detective.”

“I’ve never really looked good in a trench coat,” Sybil replied, but before Claire had a chance to answer, there was a knock on the door, and Thea walked in.

“Happy birthday!” she cried, and she gave Sybil a hug. “You look wonderful. So grown up. How do you feel? It’s great to see you.”

“I’m so glad you came,” Sybil said. “I was hoping you’d all come, but I didn’t count on it.”

“Claire paid for my tickets,” Thea declared. “In case she didn’t tell you.”

“No, she didn’t,” Sybil said. “Thanks, Claire.”

“I figured we were due a reunion,” Claire said. “And really, models earn an outrageous amount of money.”

“Which is not true of premed students, even with part-time jobs,” Thea said. She sat down on the bed, took Sybil’s hand, and squeezed it. “Evvie and Sam should be here soon. I guess you see them all the time now, but I think it’s great, all of us together.”

“How long will you be staying?” Sybil asked. She couldn’t believe how happy she was, having her sisters back, in the house she at least could think of as home.

“Until the middle of next week,” Thea replied. “This is my spring break, too, and I figured as long as you were on vacation, I might as well be. So I told them at my job not to expect me until Thursday. They’re flexible, so it was no problem.”

“And you, Claire?” Sybil asked.

“I’ll probably go back on Wednesday also,” Claire said. “I could use the time off. I’ve been working steadily since I hit New York.”

“It’s gotten to the point where every time you open a magazine, there’s a picture of Claire,” Thea said. “I can’t wait for her first Vogue cover.”

“Thea,” Claire said sharply.

“Vogue cover?” Sybil asked. “Really?”

“It’s a possibility,” Claire said. “Nothing definite.”

“She’s bound to get one,” Thea said. “Claire’s taken New York by storm.”

“Thea has a vivid imagination,” Claire said. “I’m working steady, which I grant you is pretty remarkable, but that’s about it. No one in New York knows who I am yet.”

Sybil smiled. Knowing Claire, it was only a matter of time before everybody in New York would know her. “How’s school, Thea?” she asked.

“I love it,” Thea said. “Of course, it’s exhausting, and I can’t wait until I actually start medical school, assuming I can get the scholarship aid I’ll need.”

“That could be tricky,” Sybil said. “On paper we’re worth a fortune now, because of this house. Nicky and Megs are already worrying about getting aid for me when I start college.”

“Aunt Grace was a demon,” Thea declared. “It was just like her to pull a stunt like this. I suppose all that money Claire wrangled out of the Hugheses is gone.”

“Long gone,” Sybil replied. “I stayed four months longer at the rehab place than anybody expected, and Nicky made a couple of investments that didn’t pan out. We barely had enough money to move from Oregon to Boston. As it was, Megs had to sell practically all the furniture, so we could have some ready cash, and we wouldn’t have to pay to transport stuff.”

“How much of the money did you keep, Claire?” Thea asked.

“Five thou,” Claire said. “Enough to pay for a quality portfolio and my move to New York. Both of which investments have paid off handsomely.”

“I’m sorry,” Thea said. “The whole business is still a sore spot with me.”

Sybil looked at her sisters, Claire, with her dark elegant beauty, Thea with her wistful blond loveliness. They didn’t look like sisters, and they hardly acted like them, either. Sybil couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t fought, in a way no one else in the family did. No, that wasn’t true, either. Claire always fought with Nicky. But the battles were different between her and Thea, and the last, most bitter battle had taken place two years ago, when Claire had casually married, and equally casually annulled, Scotty Hughes. Scotty, who’d spent the previous two years pledging eternal love to Thea, who’d been busy pledging her eternal love to Kip Dozier.

Sybil was startled to realize how painful it still was to think about Kip. Thea had met him while doing volunteer work, visiting his kid sister Gina at the hospital. Gina Dozier, who had died of leukemia the day after the hit-and-run driver had hit Sybil, permanently crippling her, permanently crippling her family. Kip meant Gina to Sybil, and Gina meant hospitals and suffering. In a different lifetime, it would all be past history, but for Sybil, the memories were too much a part of her everyday existence.

Scotty Hughes was a whole other issue, though, one which Sybil had yet to figure out completely. She knew things were being kept from her, but what startled her was that the secretkeepers were Claire and Nick, the two people she was closest to. She suspected Thea didn’t know much more than she did. They’d been fed the official party line. Claire had gotten carried away, eloped with Scotty, and then both of them came to their senses and agreed to an immediate annulment. Scotty’s family was so grateful to Claire for bowing out quietly that they’d handed over fifty thousand dollars for use by Sybil for her rehabilitation. Trust Claire to get carried away with a rich boy. No penniless elopements for her.

“Scotty’s in town this week, too,” Thea said. “I’m going to his family’s for Easter dinner.”

“Sounds charming,” Claire said. “Give them all my love.”

“I think they’d prefer it if I didn’t,” Thea said. “We all get along a lot better when they forget you and I are sisters.”

“Is Schyler in town, too?” Claire asked. Schyler was Scotty’s older brother.

“I don’t know,” Thea said. “You never know with Schyler where he’s going to be.”

“Do you ever see him in New York?” Sybil asked. She wished she knew more about Claire’s life in New York. There was a time when she knew everything there was to know about Claire. But that had changed with Claire’s elopement, just as Evvie had become less open once she’d fallen in love with Sam. Only Thea had stayed the same, and Sybil suspected Thea was unaware of how much was going on that she wasn’t privy to.

“He passed through last month,” Claire replied. “We got together for dinner.”

“Who?” Evvie asked. “What? Who had dinner?”

“Evvie!” Sybil shouted, and as they hugged, she could feel tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said, wiping them away. “Being such a baby. It’s just seeing you all here together. It got to me.”

“We understand,” Evvie said. “You should have seen the three of us on the plane. The other passengers didn’t stand a chance.”

“Four of you,” Sybil pointed out. “Sam was there, too.”

“Sam was very quiet,” Thea said. “I noticed that.”

“Sam’s always like that after he visits his grandparents,” Evvie declared. “And what a visit it was. My first Passover seder as a full-fledged Jew. It drove them crazy. I’d been rehearsing for weeks. I knew prayers they hadn’t even heard of. They wanted to quit after dinner, but I insisted we plow through the whole thing. It takes forever if you sing every song, pray every prayer. Sam wanted to kill me.”

“Did you have a good time?” Claire asked.

Evvie laughed. “I loved it,” she said. “Not just the driving them crazy part, either, although I admit that was fun. I’ll always be the shiksa to them, at least until I give them some nice Jewish great-grandchildren. But I really felt part of something during the seder. You know how this family can be sometimes, so connected, so organic and whole? That’s what it felt like. In a funny way, it felt like coming home.”

“I understand that,” Sybil replied. “This house feels that way to me, like it’s where I’ve always belonged.”

“I always feel that way,” Thea declared. Her sisters stared at her. “Well, I do. I know you have Sam, Evvie, and, Claire, you’ve always tried not to fit in, but for me, Nicky and Megs and all of you, even you, Claire, you’re perfect. You are my home, no matter how many different places we live in, no matter how our lives are changing. Sometimes New York seems so big to me, or hostile, or frightening, or I think about the pressure I’m under to get perfect grades, or, don’t laugh, I think about Kip, or that house we had that year when things seemed so full of promise, and instead of getting scared, or sad, or lonely, I surround myself with you, all of you, and Nicky and Megs, and everything’s all right again. I’m home. Megs is baking bread. Nicky’s deal is about to break big. We’re playing Little Women again, and I’m still Jo. And it makes everything all right for me and I can go on.” She looked almost defiantly at her sisters, but none of them said a word.

“Were things ever that good?” Sybil finally asked.

Evvie nodded. “They were,” she said. “Not consistently, but at their best, things were wonderful.”

“Until the accident,” Thea said. “That’s when everything changed.”

“I think Sybil’s aware of that,” Evvie said. “Besides, it isn’t even true.”

“It’s true enough,” Sybil said. It always came back to the accident. Four years before at Thanksgiving. The hit-and-run driver. No insurance to cover the costs of the operations and the physical therapy. Nick’s obsessive need for Sybil to walk again. The constant moves from one rehab place to another, each one promising more than it ultimately could deliver. Meg growing weary, weary of the moves, the false hopes, the endless exercises she worked Sybil through. Meg growing weary even of Nick, the man who had been dearer to her than life. And Nick, losing his obsessive drive to make money, to make deals, to start all over, full of promise, full of potential. All he cared about was Sybil, so all Sybil cared about was herself. She couldn’t let Nick down. She couldn’t let the destruction of her family be for nothing. She owed them her health. She owed them an uncrippled body, two strong legs gliding through the hallways. She owed them for the jobs they’d taken to work their way through college, for Claire’s elopement, and her giving up any thoughts of further education to earn money fast by modeling. She owed them for all those dreams of Nick’s that had been smashed that day by some unknown driver. She owed them for the house they’d had to sell, for the piano Meg had never gotten to own. They might never ask a thing of her, or they might ask the world of her, and it didn’t matter. Whatever she could offer would never be enough.

“Oh, no,” Claire said. “Can you hear it?”

“What?” Evvie asked.

“Nicky’s playing with the radio,” Claire said. “Listen hard. You can hear him fiddling with the stations.”

“This was so much easier when we still had the stereo,” Thea said. “Sybil, are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Sybil said. She got up carefully off the bed, and flexed her legs. They were stiff from sitting in one position for so long, but the pain was manageable. Thank God it was a sunny, dry day.

“The birthday waltz,” Claire said. “I finally kicked Nicky in the shins when I was fourteen, and he stopped making me dance with him.”

“I always loved our waltzes,” Thea said, getting up and stretching with an ease Sybil envied. “It was the only time I could pretend Nicky loved me best of all.”

“We might as well get it over with,” Evvie said. “There’s no stopping Nicky once he gets his mind set on waltzing.”

“If you’re not up to it, don’t do it,” Claire said.

“I’m fine,” Sybil said sharply. Last year, she’d waltzed on crutches. The year before in a wheelchair. She’d manage fine this year, if they’d just leave her alone.

The four sisters walked down the stairs, Sybil holding on to the banister and willing her legs to cooperate. Meg and Sam were seated in the living room, and Sybil noticed that Evvie walked immediately over to Sam. Thea and Claire moved to one side, and Nick strolled to Sybil’s side and took her gently by the arm.

“You’re sixteen now,” he said. “Sixteen is a special age in this family.”

Sybil nodded. She knew sixteen for her would never be the magical age it had been for Meg and Evvie. They had both fallen in love at sixteen. But that didn’t mean sixteen couldn’t be special for her, too. She had her family, she had her home. No wheelchair, no crutches. The world might not be perfect, but Sybil didn’t expect perfection, never really had. All she wanted was a decent chance, and that she finally had.

The radio began a waltz, and Nick bowed his still-handsome head to Sybil, who smiled, secure in his love. It was their moment, their dance, and it was perfect.

CHAPTER TWO

“Have some more pancakes, Thea.”

“Megs, no, I couldn’t eat another biteful.”

“I don’t know what’s become of you girls,” Meg declared. “It used to be you were each good for a half dozen or more pancakes. Now it’s three bites and you’re out.”

“I don’t know what Thea’s excuse is,” Claire said. “I have to watch every calorie for professional reasons.”

“My excuse is I’m full,” Thea declared. “Megs, your pancakes are as delicious as ever. I fantasize about them sometimes. Especially on Sunday mornings.”

Meg Sebastian rubbed her hands across her apron and smiled. Sybil couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother so happy. She silently thanked Claire for treating Thea to the trip, and then she thanked Aunt Grace for the use of the house. It was the one semi-nice thing Aunt Grace had ever done.

“Sybil, you can manage a few more, can’t you?” Meg asked.

“I don’t think so,” Sybil replied. “Thanks, anyway.”

“I wish Evvie and Sam had come for breakfast,” Meg said. “Sam at least has an appetite.”

“You should have had sons,” Claire said, and she gave her mother a kiss. “Lumberjacks.”

“Right,” Meg said. “Nicky would have loved that.”

The girls laughed, and Sybil marveled once again at how right everything felt. It wasn’t as though this was the first time in years they’d been together. There had been Christmas after all, and Thea and Evvie had both gone to Oregon for Claire’s high-school graduation. But this was better. This was home.

“When’s Clark coming over?” Claire asked.

“Around two,” Meg replied. “I don’t suppose I can convince all of you to change your plans for tomorrow. He was looking forward so to having us all over for Easter dinner.”

“Sorry, Megs,” Thea said. “I accepted the Hugheses’ invitation ages ago without really thinking.”

“Clark’ll be just as happy not to have me over tomorrow,” Claire said. “There’s no love lost between us.”

“That simply isn’t true,” Meg declared, but Claire merely smiled. Sybil, once again, tried to figure out what had happened at the elopement. Clark Bradford was a cousin of sorts to Scotty Hughes, as well as being Meg’s oldest friend. Scotty had been staying at Clark’s when he ran off with Claire. Knowing Clark, he’d been promoting a relationship between Scotty and Thea, just as a couple of years before he had promoted one between Evvie and Schyler. Evvie ended up with Sam, Scotty ended up, however temporarily, with Claire, and Claire, Sybil suspected, had her heart set on ending up with Schyler. Sybil grinned. Clark was never one for getting what he really wanted, but when confronted with Meg Winslow Sebastian and her four daughters, he really knew failure.

“What’s so funny?” Claire asked her.

“I was thinking about Sam,” Sybil said. “And how much he’d enjoy Easter dinner with Clark.”

Even Meg laughed at the idea. “I suppose it’s for the best,” she said. “You and Claire at Evvie’s, and then Thea joining you there, while Nicky and I have dinner with Clark. We had to do something after all. It’s our first Easter since we moved to Boston. I just hate the idea of us not being together.”

“You’ll still be stuck with us Monday and Tuesday,” Thea pointed out. “And Monday Evvie’s coming over for lunch all by herself. I don’t remember the last time I saw her without Sam.”

“They are joined at the hip,” Claire said. “I thought they’d be past that stage by now.”

“Sometimes you don’t get over it,” Meg said. “Now I want all of us to be very organized on Monday. We have a wedding to plan, and not that much time to do it in.”

“Evvie and Sam,” Thea said.

“Finally,” Claire said.

“They wanted to wait until Evvie’s graduation,” Sybil said.

“And they were right to,” Meg said. “Besides, it’s given Sam a chance to settle in at the paper. June is the perfect time for them to get married. They’ll have the summer to adjust before Evvie starts graduate school.”

“Did you want to be a June bride?” Thea asked.

Meg smiled. “I wanted to be an immediate bride,” she said. “I didn’t care what month or season just as long as it was soon. Which, of course, it wasn’t. Aunt Grace saw to that. And then, when Nicky and I finally did get married, it didn’t matter what time of year it was. It was just the two of us. I’m glad Evvie’s going to have something more formal, even if we can’t afford a big affair.”

“Did I hear the word affair?” Nick asked, walking into the kitchen. “Who’s having one and do I approve?”

“I was talking about weddings,” Meg said. Nick gave her a kiss, and stood with his arm around her shoulders.

“We had a perfect one,” Nick said. “You were the most beautiful bride in the world, Daisy.”

Sybil glanced at her sisters and saw they were as pleased as she was. Even Claire was smiling. There was so much love in Nick’s voice, especially when he used his pet name for Meg. Only he called her Daisy. It had been a long time since Sybil could remember seeing Nick so contented.

“What are your plans for the day, Nicky?” Meg asked. “Don’t forget, Clark is coming around two.”

“You had to remind me,” Nick said. “In that case, Sybil and I had better go for our walk right now.”

“Oh, Nicky, do I have to?” Sybil asked. “Can’t we take the day off for once?”

“It’s too nice a day to stay indoors,” Nick declared. “Come on, Sybil. Let’s stroll around the block a few times, and we’ll give Thea and Claire a chance to visit with Daisy.”

“You can pick me up some milk,” Meg said. “And a dozen eggs. In case any of you develop an appetite.”

“Good,” Nick said. “We now have motivation. Sybil, are you ready?”

“I guess,” Sybil said. She followed Nick to the front hallway, got her cane from the closet, and walked outside with him. Nick was right. It was a beautiful April day. Ordinarily, she enjoyed the ritual of their daily walk. It had begun when one of her physical therapists had suggested walking as a way of strengthening her legs. That had been back in Oregon, well after Nick had stopped doing her exercises with her.

At first he had insisted on doing them, wouldn’t even let Meg help, but it became obvious that he couldn’t handle the job. Sybil had cried easily in those days, and it hadn’t helped that Nick kept pushing her past her limits. She knew why he was doing it, and she never really got angry at him, but she kept crying, and after a while Nick started joining her, and they all realized they couldn’t keep on that way. So Meg had taken over the exercises and she’d proven to be very good at it. She wouldn’t let Sybil quit, but she didn’t push her past the point of exhaustion, either. Claire helped out, and in the beginning so did Thea, but it had mostly been Meg who did the grunt work.

Which, of course, left Nick feeling useless. So when walks were suggested, he immediately volunteered. He and Sybil got into the habit of a daily walk, except when the weather was bad. It had been a long time, she realized. When their walks first began, she was still using a walker. Now she was down to a cane, and sometimes at the beginning of their walk, she didn’t even need that. But it came in handy when she tired out, which she almost always did.

“It’s good having Thea and Claire home,” Nick said, as they began their stroll. “But I’m glad to have some time alone with you.”

“Me, too,” Sybil said. Their walks had become a special time for both of them. “Don’t they look wonderful, though?”

Nick nodded. “Thea seems happier than she’s been in a while,” he said. “Maybe she finally has Kip out of her system.”

“I think she’s excited about becoming a doctor,” Sybil said. “It gives her a focus.”

Nick grinned. “You know all about focus, don’t you,” he said. “You’re the queen of focus.”

“I would have thought Claire was,” Sybil said. “I can’t get over how successful she is.”

“She can’t get over it, either,” Nick said. “A little power is a dangerous thing for Claire.”

“Why don’t you like her?” Sybil asked. She’d never been so direct with Nick before. But now she felt she could ask, maybe because Claire was home to protect her. Sybil had spent a lot of years being protected by Claire. It was a comfortable position.

“I like Claire,” Nick said. “I certainly love her. Why? Has she been playing unloved child again?”

“No,” Sybil said. “It’s just the tone you get in your voice when you talk about her. And you don’t seem to be comfortable looking at her, either. You haven’t been in a long time.” Since the elopement, she thought, but she wasn’t sure, since that had been a crazy time for her, and her perceptions might have been off.

Nick paused for a moment, then took Sybil’s hand and put it in his. They continued to walk hand in hand. “You’ve always had a good eye for other people,” he declared. “I remember once, you couldn’t have been more than four, you asked me why Clark didn’t like me. I knew Clark had never said a negative word about me in front of any of you girls, and your sisters never seemed to realize just how much he didn’t care for me, so you figured it out on your own, just based on watching him and me together.”

“What did you tell me?” Sybil asked.

“I said I married Daisy and Clark loved her, too,” Nick replied. “The simple truth. You understood that. Actually, for a while after that, you were quite cold to Clark whenever we saw him. I’m not sure he noticed, though. Clark isn’t the most perceptive of men.”

Sybil looked at the trees just beginning to bud. Soon they’d be green. Her first spring in Boston. She was eager to see how many flowers there would be, how warm it would get. Winter had been beautiful, but cold and icy, and ice in particular was her enemy. She’d taken three bad falls during the winter. One had left her immobile for close to a week. She tried to remember what it had been like just to be able to walk, no big deal, one easy step after another, but it had been too many years, too many crises ago. “You still haven’t answered about Claire,” she said.

“Claire’s always wanted something from me that I can’t give her,” Nick replied. “She feels that just because she looks like me, she is like me.”

“But she is,” Sybil declared. “Everybody knows that.”

Nick laughed. “Everybody assumes that,” he said. “And in some ways, it’s true. Claire is like me at my worst. That’s not to say she’s bad. Just that she has all my character flaws. Just as you’re like me at my best. You have all the good I have to offer.”

“Like what?” Sybil asked.

“Like determination,” Nick replied. “Ambition. The willingness to work hard to change the conditions of your life.”

Sybil thought about that. It was true Claire never expected to work. Things had a way of happening for her that she seemed to take for granted. Sybil took nothing for granted.

“What about Evvie and Thea?” she asked. “Are they like you?”

“More like Daisy,” Nick said. “Evvie has Daisy’s strengths, and Thea has her weaknesses.”

“I never knew Megs had any weaknesses,” Sybil said.

“You’re right,” Nick said. “Teach me to be too simplistic.”

Sybil laughed. She thought about what Thea had said about the birthday waltzes. These walks for Sybil were the times when she knew Nick loved her best of all. She couldn’t imagine him talking this way to any of her sisters. Not that he didn’t love them. But he was never quite as open with them as he was with Sybil.

“You said Claire expects things of you,” Sybil said. “But we all do. We all expect you to be a magician, to pull fortunes out of a hat. We expect you to make us feel beautiful and smart and important. We expect miracle cures from you.”

“Then I must constantly be letting you down,” Nick said. “Why do you put up with me?”

“You don’t let us down,” Sybil said. “Well, maybe Claire, but I have a feeling that she has higher expectations than the rest of us.”

“Claire thinks if she acts the way I do, then I’ll love her even more,” Nick said. “Only she doesn’t realize I don’t especially care for the way I act much of the time. I used to. I used to think I was quite extraordinary. Not when I was young. But after I met Daisy. I felt blessed then, as though I’d been covered in silver and gold, as though just the sound of my shoes on the pavement was music. And when you have an attitude like that, people smile on you, and the fates are kind, and you get what you want, and I did. I got Daisy. It took longer than it should have, but finally I won. And then we waited a while longer, until the fates were kind again, and we had Evvie, and then Thea, and Claire, and finally you. I couldn’t believe it. With each one of you girls, I’d go into your bedroom, and watch you sleeping, and marvel that not only did I have a family at last, but I had such an extraordinary one. I hope someday you have a taste of that kind of happiness. It can’t last forever, it’s too perfect, but it makes everything else endurable just to have known it for a while.”

“Then what happened?” Sybil asked. She could remember when Meg would tell them the story of the day she and Nick first met. It was their favorite story, even Claire’s, when they were little.

“Then reality set in,” Nick said. “My magic cloak got tattered. My shoes no longer made music. The fates grew bored with me, and rightly so. Sometimes I scored, sometimes I didn’t. Daisy kept loving me, and grew even more beautiful, and you girls grew up and became not just creatures for me to love, but individuals with your own needs and desires, and Evvie went off to Eastgate and came back with Sam, and then Thea fell in love with Kip, and Claire decided she could run the world very well on her own, and things were never quite the same.”

“And I had my accident,” Sybil said.

“Yes,” Nick said. “That happened also.”

Sybil stared into the window of a well-kept brownstone. People on Beacon Hill knew how to maintain appearances. Nick used to be that way. No matter how his life might be going, he always shone. When had he lost that?

“Maybe I’m wrong,” she said, almost shyly. “But I thought things went bad when I had the accident. The way you’re telling it, there were problems before then.”

“Of course there were problems,” Nick said. “We had our share of problems before you were hurt.”

“It never seemed that way to me,” Sybil said. “Oh, I know sometimes we had less money than others. I remember a couple of middle-of-the-night moves when I was a kid. But it all seemed like a game to me. Was that because I was so young?”

“A little bit,” Nick replied. “And a little bit because no matter how bad things were then, it never seemed real. It certainly never seemed important. We could live in a dump for a year or so, and our first dinner there was almost always champagne and caviar, frequently courtesy of Clark, to give him his due, and we knew, at least Daisy and I did, that the dump was temporary, and the next place would be a castle. So what difference did it make that it was a dump. And of course while we were waiting for a change of fortunes, Daisy would turn the dump into something so special it might as well have been a castle. And she would laugh, and you girls would join her, and I couldn’t help laughing myself then, and soon things would be better again and deals would get made and I’d be paying for the champagne and caviar. I think sometimes I preferred life that way, uncertain, with the ever possible risk of failure, to a life like Clark had, all wealthy and secure. In that way, Claire is like me. She loves risk. You can see it excites her.”

“Maybe now you can start taking risks again,” Sybil said. “Now that you have Aunt Grace’s house to live in. And Evvie’ll be married soon, and Claire’s already earning good money. You’ll just have Thea and me to worry about.”

“I’ll worry about all of you until the day I die,” Nick declared. “But you’re right. If I could only get a stake, I might make something of myself yet. The problem is raising the money. This is Boston. In some ways it’s a big city, and in others it’s a very small town. Daisy has position, or at least she had in her days as a Winslow. Grace, Clark, they represent the old money, the right clubs, the places that never accepted me. My only ins are there, and they don’t do me any good. I’ll always be the upstart that stole Grace Winslow’s niece away from her, away from Clark. And I don’t have the money or the connections to get in with the new crowd. So I’m stuck with a mansion that costs a fortune in taxes, and if I can’t think of something soon, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“You must have some ideas,” Sybil said. Even at the worst times, Nick always had something cooking.

“We can’t sell the house,” Nick said. “Grace saw to that. But we could probably rent it for a good amount. More than enough to cover taxes at least. Then we could scrape up some money somehow, and go to a more open community. I had good luck in Pennsylvania. Maybe we could try there.”

“When?” Sybil asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. Nick was very sensitive to her moods, and this was one time she didn’t want him to know what she was feeling.

“During the summer, I think,” Nick said. “I haven’t spoken to Daisy about it yet, because I know how happy she is to be in Boston. It’s funny. She hated the house when she was growing up here. The summer house in Eastgate she loved, which is probably why Grace didn’t leave that to her instead. But she was miserable in Boston. So you’d think it would be easy for me to convince her to move. But it won’t be. She finally has some security, and God knows she’s entitled to it after all we’ve been through. She thought we were getting that back in Briarton when we bought the house. But that didn’t work out, and we’ve been on the move ever since.”

Briarton was where Sybil had had her accident. They’d been on the move ever since because of her. Nick wasn’t even being kind not mentioning that. They both knew it so well there was no point.

“I’d like for us to stay in Boston, too,” Sybil said. “At least for another year. Until I finish high school.”

“You’ve certainly been to more than your share of schools,” Nick said. “Do you like the one you’re going to that much?”

Sybil didn’t like the school she was going to at all. It was old and filled with stairs and kids that pushed against her because they were late and she was slow. She didn’t have any friends there. She hadn’t made any real friends since Briarton. There’d been too many hospitals and rehab centers and schools since then to make friends. “I like Boston,” she said, choosing not to lie. “I like Aunt Grace’s house. I like feeling like I belong someplace.”

“That’s how Daisy feels,” Nick said. “But there’s no point in living someplace where I can’t make money.”

“Couldn’t you get a job?” Sybil asked.

“Not the kind that would pay me enough money,” Nick said. “I need to make a quick killing, get us out of debt for a while. We left friends back in Briarton. Harrison, too. That whole section of Pennsylvania was very hospitable. You could finish high school there, and then if you want, you could go to college in Boston. Evvie would be happy to keep an eye on you.”

Sybil looked at Nick. He wasn’t pleading yet, so the idea was still fairly new to him. That meant there was time to talk him out of it, to come up with some scheme that would keep them in Boston. It was too soon to panic.

“We’d better get the milk,” she said. “My legs are starting to hurt.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said. “Milk and eggs and a short walk home it is.”

Sybil nodded. It was home, too. Nick might hate it, but she wasn’t about to give it up without a fight.

CHAPTER THREE

“Ah, the hallowed grounds,” Claire said as she and Sybil walked to Evvie’s apartment. “See that little grocery on the corner? I used to meet Scotty there for our secret assignations.”

“How many did you have?” Sybil asked. She had gone to Evvie’s apartment several times since the move to Boston, but this was her first guided tour with Claire.

“One, I think,” Claire said. “Maybe two. It’s all so long ago, and it was so really unimportant. That streetlight over there, right by their house, that’s where I got him to kiss me.”

“Was it hard?” Sybil asked.

“For him or me?” Claire replied. “Actually, Scotty was a very good kisser. The moment would have been romantic, if I’d been in it for romance.”

“Instead of money?” Sybil said.

“Not money,” Claire said. “Not then. I wanted him to kiss me because Thea was there. I didn’t work out the money angle until later.”

“How much later?” Sybil asked. The sky had turned overcast, and the conversation was keeping her mind from the ache in her legs.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me,” Claire said. “But if you want to know if Scotty was in on it with me, then yes, he was. I never would have gotten him to marry me if he hadn’t understood my plan. He did it to make Thea jealous.”

“Poor Thea,” Sybil said.

“She deserved it,” Claire said, walking up to Evvie’s door and ringing the bell. “The way she was carrying on about Kip. She didn’t care how much she hurt Scotty. Thea can be incredibly insensitive when she wants to be.”

Sybil sighed. There was no getting through to Claire about her own insensitivities. Sybil was just glad she could be friends with them both.

And things had worked out reasonably well. Thea and Scotty remained close, although no romance had ever developed. Sybil had gotten the time in the rehab center she needed. Claire had a beautiful portfolio. And the Hugheses still had plenty of money. Sybil suspected there was a lot she could learn from Claire’s techniques.

They walked up the flight of stairs to Evvie’s apartment, and Claire knocked on the door. Evvie opened it, and Sybil noted instantly that Evvie had been crying.

“What’s the matter?” Claire asked. “Evvie, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “This is just a bad time.”

Claire and Sybil walked into the apartment. Everything looked the same as it had the last time Sybil had been there, and Sybil found that comforting somehow. She couldn’t remember ever having seen Evvie cry.

“Is somebody sick?” she asked.

“Yes,” Evvie said. “No. Not in the way you think. Look, it’s an awful mess. I’m sorry. I know we invited you for lunch, and I should have called to cancel, but this morning has been awful, and I wasn’t thinking straight.” Sybil noticed that Evvie was keeping her voice low. She looked around the apartment for signs of Sam, and saw the bedroom door was closed.

“Is Sam okay?” Sybil asked. She’d grown to love Sam over the years. As far as she was concerned, he was a perfect big brother. “You’re still getting married, aren’t you?”

Evvie managed a half laugh. “We’re fine,” she said. “He’s fine. Look, it’s very complicated.” She paused, and began to cry again.

Claire gave Evvie a hug. “It’s okay,” she said. “Whatever it is, you’ll work it out.”

Sybil heard some noises in the bedroom, and turned around to see Sam opening the door. He looked even worse than Evvie, tearstained and red with some emotion Sybil couldn’t define. “Get your damn sisters out of here!” he shouted. “They don’t belong. Get them the hell out, already!”

“We’re going,” Claire said. “Evvie, give us a call.”

“Thea,” Evvie said. “She can’t come here.”

“I’ll call her at Scotty’s,” Claire said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” Evvie whispered. “I love you both.”

“We love you, too,” Claire said. “Come on home if you need to. No one else is there right now.”

“Maybe,” Evvie said, and half pushed them out of the apartment. Sybil followed Claire down the stairs. She felt like weeping, although she couldn’t be sure why.

“Happy Easter,” Claire said as they left the building.

“Do you think that was what was bothering Sam?” Sybil asked. “That it was Easter?”

“I don’t think so,” Claire said.

“Then what was it?” Sybil asked. “It had to be something terrible. Have you ever seen Evvie crying?”

“Once,” Claire replied. “After your accident. Evvie cried for days after that.”

“But not since then,” Sybil said. “And Sam was so angry. Did we do something wrong?”

“Calm down,” Claire said. “It was probably just a fight. Couples have them. Nicky and Megs don’t have them like the rest of the world, but everybody else does. Evvie probably wanted to put hot sauce in the soup or something, and Sam didn’t like it hot and one thing led to another and they both got upset. Hot sauce will do that.”

“You can’t believe that,” Sybil declared. “That was not a frivolous fight.”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” Claire replied. “It isn’t my crisis. Now, do you want to go back to Aunt Grace’s or should we find a place to eat here?”

“Home,” Sybil said. “And don’t call it Aunt Grace’s.”

“Pardon me,” Claire said. “How’re your legs holding up?”

“They’re fine,” Sybil said. “There’s no need to baby me, Claire.”

“I love the holidays,” Claire said. “Happy family gatherings. They make me wish I was an orphan.”

“Sam’s an orphan,” Sybil said. “So are Nicky and Megs. They all seem to love it.”

“There are orphans and there are orphans,” Claire said. “But if I were an orphan, I might not have you, and where would I be then?”

“Can we take a cab back?” Sybil asked. Cabs were such an extravagance she was loath to request one, but her legs were starting to ache, and she didn’t think she could manage all the walking mass transit would involve.

“We’ll find one,” Claire promised, and indeed soon they were being driven back to Beacon Hill. Claire didn’t seem to mind paying, and Sybil was grateful that one Sebastian at least had a good-paying job.

Claire called Thea, and then made sandwiches for their lunch. Sybil gave herself some medication, and hoped the pain would vanish. She knew she was tired from the excitement of having her sisters home, and her legs always bothered her more when she was tired. That and the weather, and she might find herself spending the evening lying on the living room sofa with everybody hovering about. “I think I’ll take a hot bath,” she told Claire. “Soak in hot sauce for a while. That might help.”

“Fair enough,” Claire said. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

“I won’t,” Sybil said, but it was hard just climbing up the stairs. She was glad Nick and Meg weren’t there to see her. She could feel their eyes on her sometimes, feel Nick’s body strain with her effort.

The bath helped both her legs and her spirits. What she couldn’t get over, she decided as she toweled herself, was the way Sam had spoken. She thought he loved her, Claire, and Thea. She thought Sam felt like a member of the family. She hadn’t realized he could think of her as Evvie’s damn sister. Not even a name. Just a title. Nick was right. Blood really was all that counted. Everything else was window dressing.

She straightened up the bathroom, not wanting to leave any clues of a midday bath that would cause Nick or Meg alarm, and joined Claire downstairs. They were both reading when the doorbell rang. Claire got up and answered it, and when she returned, Evvie was with her. Evvie didn’t look much better than she had in her apartment.

“I needed to explain,” Evvie said.

“Sit down,” Claire said. “Can I get you something?”

“No thanks,” Evvie said. “I couldn’t possibly eat. I’m much too upset.”

“About what?” Sybil asked. “What was going on? Why was Sam so angry at us?”

“He wasn’t angry at you,” Evvie said. “We weren’t fighting about you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?” Claire asked. “I could make us some tea if you want.”

Sybil stared at Claire. Claire was kind to Sybil, but to no one else, as far as Sybil knew. Whatever was going on, Claire obviously knew how serious it was. More unshared secrets? Sybil, who’d always assumed she knew everything in the family, was increasingly disconcerted by how much she didn’t know.

“No tea,” Evvie said. “I’m fine, really. Furious, but fine. Furious and worried sick. You probably guessed. It’s Sam’s mother.”

“What mother?” Sybil asked.

Evvie looked at Claire. “You never told her?” she asked.

“No,” Claire said.

“I thought you told her everything,” Evvie said. “You never told anybody?”

“It wasn’t my secret,” Claire said. “It was Sam’s and yours. I told you that then.”

“You did,” Evvie said. “Sometimes I forget I don’t really understand you.”

“That’s okay,” Claire said. “You understand me well enough.”

“Will the two of you stop it, already!” Sybil demanded. “What’s going on? What mother? Sam’s parents are dead. Why was he so angry?” She realized she was angry, too, at Sam, at Evvie, and at Claire for keeping things from her. She felt as if her life was on constant display. Everybody knew everything about her, but they all kept secrets. They couldn’t possibly be trying to protect her. She was far past the point where they could protect her.

Evvie closed her eyes for a moment. “This is very hard for me,” she began. “I’m sorry, Sybil. I assumed you knew the basic story. I thought Claire must have told you years ago, after she found out. I even thought Claire might have discussed it with you today, after you left my place. Now I have to explain everything, and I don’t know where to begin or how much to tell you. Give me a moment, all right?”

“Years ago?” Sybil asked. “You’ve known something for years and you haven’t told me? Does Thea know?”

Claire shook her head. “Not from me, she doesn’t.”

“I never told her, either,” Evvie said. “Possibly Scotty has. I’ve never told Nicky and Megs.”

“How could Scotty know something Nicky and Megs don’t know?” Sybil asked.

“Maybe they do know,” Evvie said. “Clark might have told them. What a mess.”

“Do you want me to explain to Sybil?” Claire asked. “While you calm down?”

“No, it’s okay,” Evvie said. “Sybil, I’m sorry to ruin your Easter with this situation. I’m sorry if you’re upset to learn that there are things going on you don’t know about. I apologize for Sam, too.” She stopped, rubbed her face with her hand and took a deep breath. “When Sam was very young, his parents were involved with a crime. They were political radicals, and they blew up a bank and people died. His father died in the explosion, but his mother escaped, and she’s been underground ever since. Sam hasn’t seen her since then. He was about two, and he went to live with his grandparents, his mother’s parents, and he had no contact with his mother. None of them did. She might have been dead, and they wouldn’t have known. She was last seen running from the explosion. That was all anybody knew.”

“But Sam always said his parents were dead,” Sybil said. “He was lying?”

“He had to,” Evvie replied. “Or at least he felt he had to. He didn’t know the truth himself until he was eleven. Both sets of grandparents agreed to that, but when he was eleven, they finally told him what really had happened. He lived with his mother’s parents, the Greenes, and he was called Sam Greene—they changed his name legally to that—and everybody thought his parents had died in a car crash. No one made the connection between him and his mother because of the different last names. Her name was Linda Steinmetz. When Sam spent his summers at Eastgate, it was different, because there he stayed with his Steinmetz grandparents, and everybody knew the whole story, which is how come Clark knows, and maybe Scotty. Schyler certainly knows. He was the first one to tell me.”

“I didn’t know that,” Claire said. “That little SOB.”

“Aunt Grace knew, too,” Evvie said. “Somebody would have told me sooner or later. Sam would have, himself, once we fell in love. It’s just very hard for him, because his life with the Greenes was filled with lies. Nobody at school knew the truth. None of his friends. I was the first person he really cared about who knew the truth.”

“I can see why he didn’t want his friends to know,” Sybil said. “But why didn’t you tell Nicky and Megs? You must have wanted to.”

“Of course I did,” Evvie said. “I went off to Eastgate thinking our family would never have any secrets. I came back knowing that wasn’t true. It was a brutally painful lesson to learn, and it still hurts sometimes.”

Sybil suspected Evvie wasn’t just talking about Sam, but this was no moment to press for further details. It occurred to her fleetingly that she might not want to know what other secrets there were. Maybe she was entitled to some protection after all.

“Sam’s mother is underground because the police, the FBI, they all want her for homicide,” Evvie said. “She’s wanted on a capital offense, and they’ve never stopped looking for her. There’s even a twenty-five thousand dollar reward on her head from the bank she blew up. It’s something Sam’s lived with for years, and his grandparents have lived with it, too, and now I live with it as well.”

“How do you mean?” Sybil asked. “I thought you said his mother hadn’t contacted him in all those years.”

“She hasn’t,” Evvie replied. “But the FBI’s never given up hope that she will. There were FBI agents at his father’s parents’ funerals. There were agents at his graduation from Harvard. There’ll be agents at our wedding. Our phone is tapped. I don’t care. I think it’s kind of funny knowing they’re monitoring my calls. They must be bored out of their minds. But when Sam got the job at the Globe, he had to go to his editor and tell him not to ever give out Sam’s home phone number to any source, in case he was working on a politically sensitive story. He figures they wouldn’t dare tap his office number. That was when he decided to write under the name of Sam Steinmetz Greene. It practically killed his grandparents when he told them, but Steinmetz was his father’s name, and Sam’s tired of lying and hiding and not being allowed to be normal. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he should have kept the whole thing secret.”

Sybil tried to picture denying her parents, but it was inconceivable. Her name was Sebastian and she was proud of it. Poor Sam, not even knowing which last name to use.

“I gather Mom Steinmetz has made contact,” Claire said.

Evvie nodded. “Sam got a note yesterday in the mail,” she said. “No return address of course. Just a typed note sent to our house telling him to call a certain number from a pay phone this morning at seven. So he did. I didn’t like the feel of it even then, but there was nothing to say. I didn’t know it was about his mother. Neither did Sam. He went to the phone booth and made the call. I wanted to go with him, but he wouldn’t let me, so I guess he suspected it had something to do with her. There’s a little part of Sam that he can’t reveal, not even to me, and I learned long ago not to push him.”

“But he told you about the call when he got back,” Claire said.

“He did,” Evvie replied. “He took a huge pile of change with him, because he knew better than to put the call on his phone card. Close to ten dollars in dimes and quarters. We practically spent all of yesterday afternoon getting change for a dollar from every shop in the neighborhood. There was nothing in the note that said it would be a long call. I guess Sam’s been waiting for that note most of his life. He knew to take a lot of coins. And he used them all up. He was down to two quarters when he came back.”

“Did he speak to his mother?” Sybil asked.

“Yeah,” Evvie said, and she began to cry again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so angry, and Sam’s in so much pain, and he won’t let me do anything about it. He feels he can’t.” She dug out some tissues from her pocketbook, blew her nose, and used the moment to get back in control. “At first he couldn’t be sure. He doesn’t know what his mother sounds like. He’s seen some videotape of her from old newscasts, but that tape was over twenty years old, and it isn’t the same. But she told him things only she could have known. Things about his grandparents. That’s really all they have in common, her parents, his grandparents. So he believed it was her. I wish I had been there. I wish Sam had let me be there.”

“He must be very scared,” Claire said.

“I know,” Evvie said. “You’re right. He’s always been scared his mother would turn up. He’s always been scared that she wouldn’t. It’s his mother, you know, and she abandoned him. Whatever else she’s done, she abandoned him. He was lucky his grandparents took him in. God only knows what might have happened if they hadn’t. I hate her so much. I’ve never said that before. I never had anybody I could say it to. I hate Linda Steinmetz for what she did to Sam.”

“Why did she write to Sam now?” Sybil asked. “Does she know he’s getting married?”

“She wouldn’t care even if she did know,” Evvie said. “Actually, she might know. Sam said she knew he’d graduated from Harvard, knew where he was working. She obviously knew his address. Maybe all these years she’s had friends tell her about him. Sam swears his grandparents have had no contact with her.”

“Did he tell them about the phone call?” Claire asked.

“That was one of the things we fought about,” Evvie said. “No, he didn’t. And there was a reason why she wrote now, and not two years ago, or two years from now. She needs something from him.”

“What?” Sybil asked.

Evvie took another deep breath. “This would be funny if I didn’t love him,” she said. “It seems Linda’s suffering from kidney disease. She’s begun dialysis. But she can’t stay in one place too long, because of the FBI, and there’s a tremendous amount of paperwork involved in getting the dialysis paid for, and she can’t become too visible to any section of the government, so that’s out, and she can’t wait around for a cadaver donor for a kidney transplant. So she needs a healthy kidney, and she needs one fast, and she figured her best bet was for Sam to donate one. He has a spare. He’ll never miss it. Sam is to drop everything, fly clear across, well I can’t tell you where, and get tested to see if his kidney is compatible. And he’s doing it. He agreed! That’s what we were fighting about when you came this morning. We’ve been fighting about it since he made the phone call. He’s crazy. He owes this woman nothing. She never did a thing for him except give birth and maybe change a diaper or two. His father wasn’t any better, but at least he had the decency to die. Not Linda Steinmetz, though. Not tough-as-nails Linda. The invisible woman. Twenty-one years without even a birthday card, and poof, she needs Sam to risk his life, and she doesn’t hesitate for a moment to ask. And he agrees. That’s what I can’t get over. I’m Sam’s family. Me and the Greenes, and his aunt Ronnie. Not this stranger.”

“Maybe he’s just curious,” Claire said. “There’s got to be a tremendous need to actually see, if only for a moment. Look at Nicky.”

“What about Nicky?” Sybil asked.

“He never knew his father,” Claire said. “That’s all. And I know how much he wishes he had had the chance to.”

“His father died,” Sybil said. “Sam’s known for years his mother’s alive. There’s a big difference.”

“The need must be the same, though,” Claire said. “Besides, what does it matter? Has Sam left already?”

Evvie nodded. “He took the shuttle to New York,” she said. “That was part of the plan. He can’t even fly out from Boston, in case he might be followed. He isn’t being followed. His family’s paranoid, but they’ve never worried about that. From New York, he’s going to fly to wherever. He has an assumed name. She gave it to him, and she’ll have fake ID waiting for him. It’s a nightmare. He couldn’t use any of his credit cards, so we’ve been doing everything with cash, using all our cash-machine cards to make withdrawals. He’s traveling with all that cash, and he’s going to a strange city under an assumed name to meet his mother, and he’s going to have to act like she really is his mother, so her doctor won’t suspect anything, and then if everything works out, he gets to stay there for major surgery. And I’m supposed to act like this is perfectly all right. He’ll call me from pay phones when he can at my office at school. Short calls, just in case the FBI gets wind of something and starts tracing my office calls. Sam’s going through the worst thing in his life, and he’s deliberately keeping me out of it. I wish she’d die. I wish she’d die right now, before there’s any need for the surgery. I wish the FBI would find her right this very minute. I wish Sam would come to his senses, and fly back home now.” And this time when she began to cry, neither Claire nor Sybil tried to stop her.

“Maybe they won’t be compatible,” Claire said. “He might have his father’s blood type or whatever.”

“That’s what I keep hoping,” Evvie said. “But that might be even worse for him, knowing he couldn’t help. I don’t know. Claire, I am so frightened. I’m more frightened than I was even in Eastgate, when I learned everything. It’s like the accident. It’s that kind of fear. So many things could go wrong. He might even die. And there’s nothing I can do.”

“You have to tell Nicky and Megs,” Claire said. “Everything. You’re too deeply involved now. They have a right to know.”

“Do you think so?” Evvie asked. “I’ve wanted to tell them for so long.”

“Tell them,” Claire said. “Thea, too. It’s not just Sam’s secret any longer. It belongs to all of us now.”

Buy Sybil at Sixteen Now!

About the Author

Susan Beth Pfeffer wrote her first novel, Just Morgan, during her last semester at New York University. Since then, she has written over seventy novels for children and young adults, including Kid Power, Fantasy Summer, Starring Peter and Leigh, and The Friendship Pact, as well as the series Sebastian Sisters and Make Me a Star. Pfeffer’s books have won ten statewide young reader awards and the Buxtehude Bulle Award.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1989 by Susan Beth Pfeffer

Cover design by Mimi Bark

ISBN: 978-1-4532-0189-3

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Preview: Sybil at Sixteen
- About the Author
- Copyright Page