Page 139 of The Wrong Brother
Somewhere outside, gulls cry over the ocean, following the baitfish in with the tide. Kate finally reaches for her glass of orange juice before speaking again.
“If everybody thinks he’s such a good person...” She looks directly at me. “...then somebody should tell them.”
I blink. “What?”
“If he really did that.” She gestures vaguely between us. “To me. And to Mom. People should know, right?”
“Kate...”
“I mean it.” She smiles sadly. “I’m okay. But you should tell everyone if you can, so they know what kind of person he is.”
She isn’t okay. She survived, and there’s a difference. It’s crazy how resilient kids are, or at least how resilient she is. If I’d been half as resilient as my niece, would this bitterness have burned out of me long ago? Would I have just changed the channel when Andrei showed up on that TV?
Still, I understand what she’s trying to give me. Permission. I reach across the island and squeeze her hand.
“Thank you.”
She smiles more brightly this time. Then, with the startling ability children have to pivot between life-altering conversations and complete normalcy, she asks, “So...”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously.
“So?”
“Emma.”
Of course.
“What about Emma?”
Kate grins. “Was she pretty at the wedding?”
I sigh. “Very subtle.”
“You didn’t answer.”
“You saw the dress we picked for her. What do you think?”
“Ithink she’s gorgeous. And I think it’s weird you left her in Colorado.”
I smile despite myself. “I wish I could’ve brought her, but she’s safer there for now.”
Kate’s eyes cut to me sharply at the word “safer,” and I realize I slipped. Trying to recover, I say quickly, “The wedding was beautiful, but somehow I spent more time looking at Emma than anything else.”
Kate beams triumphantly.
“I knew it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You absolutely do.”
I rub a hand across my face.
“She looked...”
The words refuse to come easily. How does one explain sunlight caught in chestnut curls? The quiet confidence she’d slowly grown into?
The way she looked standing beside me as though she’d always belonged there, the way she feels?
