Page 91 of The Starfish Sisters

I smile. “I’m sure. Thank you.” He drains his coffee and I ask, “Do you want another cup?”

“Much as I’d love to sit here with you, I really do have to get my day started.”

“Okay.” I walk him to the door and stand with my arms crossed as he gathers his coat. “You are coming back, right?”

He pauses. Stands in the middle of his redwood stillness and says, “I’m coming back.”

THEN

THETRACKS OFMYTEARS

Phoebe

Suze had been at the Magdalene Home for Unwed Mothers for nearly a month before I could convince my dad to drive me there. My mother had moved to LA as planned, leaving my dad and me to deal with the mess of her departure, including putting the house up for sale and figuring out where we were going to move. My parents had agreed to let me stay with my dad in Portland rather than going to LA with my mom. My dad had so much on his mind that I felt bad asking, but Suze called a bunch of times and it was strange and awkward. She was so furious with everyone that she was like the hero who turns into a villain. When I tried to make her feel better or cheer her up, she lashed out at me.

And I kept thinking of her having sex with Joel. Actual sex, with his naked body, his beautiful lips. If that was even true. But who else? I asked and she told me it was Victor. Who told me himself he was gay. At least that’s what I thought he meant when he said he was a fairy.

It all made me feel sick to my stomach. I missed my mother more than I thought I would, but if I thought she’d warm up after the divorce, I was wrong. I cried at night sometimes, feeling like my entire world had been trashed, like some giant hand of fate had upended my box of toys and flung them all over the room.

And the one person I would have poured my heart out to had way bigger problems. A couple of times I tried to tell her how sad I was, and I could tell she thought I was an idiot.

But just because you don’t have the worst problem in the world doesn’t mean it isn’t a real problem to you.

So I was reluctant to go see her. How could I make any of it better? Her dad, the fire, the beating. I was afraid to see her with her shaved head.

It was Amma who shamed me into it, appalled that I hadn’t been there to support her. It made me mad, honestly. Suze had problems, but so did I! My parents were getting divorced and I was losing the only house I’d ever lived in, and nobody seemed to care!

Why did it always have to be about Suze?

The home was a long way across town, too far for me to be able to take a bus. My dad finally agreed to drive me there after he finished classes on a Thursday afternoon.

Rain fell hard that day, and the neighborhood was not the greatest. The house was a tall Victorian with a big porch that hadn’t been painted in a long time. My dad peered at it. “This is where they sent her?” He swore under his breath.

“I guess. This is the address, right?”

“Yes.” He smoothed his beard between his fingers. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

A part of me was really afraid of going up those steps, into that world, but I shook my head. “No.”

“I’ll come back in ... what? An hour? An hour and a half?”

“Hour and a half. I haven’t seen her in months.”

“Take your time. I’ll be right out here.”

I dashed to the porch and up the steps, feeling like a girl in a gothic story. The screen door was extra wide and the door behind was open. I knocked, and a girl who looked younger than me appeared. She was enormously pregnant, her belly like a ball stuck on her body. “Yeah?”

“I’m here to visit Suze Ogden?”

“She know you’re coming?”

“Yes.”

She pushed the door open and I slid inside, dashing water off my hair. “She’s in room seven. Two flights up on the right.”

“Thanks.”

The air smelled of cooking, and I could hear girls talking somewhere as I climbed. The first set of stairs was generous, but the second was narrower. Servant stairs, I thought, something I picked up from a book somewhere. The tight hallway I found confirmed that. The door of room seven was plain white. I took a breath, steeling myself, and knocked.