Home with My Sisters (20 page)

CHAPTER 21

The breakfast was a disaster. Faith wouldn't stop chattering at Josh and Brittany. Hope watched, fascinated as her sister turned into a deranged parakeet, flapping her clipped wings and chirping nonsense. “Did you hear us down here?” she asked.

Brittany squeaked, Josh elbowed her. “Hear what?” Josh said. Hope had to hand it to him, he had a steady hand. But there was a bite to his voice. He knew about the affair and he wasn't going to let Faith off easy.

“We were acting,” Faith said, her eyes flicking between her children.

“Acting?” Josh said.

“Yes,” Faith said. “Making up scenes like we did when we were kids. You know. Soap opera stuff.”

Brittany and Josh looked at Joy and Hope as if scouring their faces for the truth.

“Soap operas are trashy,” Yvette said. “Your mother always loved them.” Hope clenched her fork and shoved more pancakes into her mouth. How much syrup would she need to consume before putting herself in a peaceful coma? When were the holidays over again?

“That's us,” Joy said. “We've always been trashy.”

Hope was hurtled into a memory. Her parents were standing in the kitchen section of their trailer. It was their first home together. Joy was the lump in her mother's belly. Faith was coloring, and refusing to share all shades of red. Hope literally crawled along the hall toward the kitchen. She was pretending to be a dog. She stopped when she heard what sounded like arguing.

“She thinks I'm a piece of trash!” her mother wailed.

“Screw her.” Her father pulled her mother into him. “She's a self-righteous cow.”

“Why does she hate me so much?” Hope started to growl, low in her belly. She would be a guard dog. The next time she saw her grandmother, she would bite her.

“Because you've stolen my heart,” her father said. Hope couldn't remember what happened next. A lot of her memories were like that. Fuzzy blips. The reception on an old television going in and out. Maybe their mother melted into his arms. Maybe they kissed. Maybe they noticed Hope and took her for a walk. Or maybe their father opened a bottle of whiskey and disappeared for the next three days. Her mother had loved her soaps. And Hope used to curl up on the sofa and watch them with her. Her mother was very vocal, drawing Hope into the story but filling her in. Pointing at the television, talking about the characters and their scandals as if they were all neighbors. Hope loved it. Whenever the soaps were on, the attention was off of their own lives. They made her mother happy.

Hope forced herself to concentrate on the present, took a deep breath, and stared across the table at their grandmother. “We're not trashy,” she said. “Neither was our mother.”

“Is our mother,” Faith corrected.

Hope thought of their mother's latest Facebook post: bikini, red lipstick, deep tan, margarita as big as her head. “Is our mother,” Hope echoed.

Yvette swiped her index finger between the three girls. “You're the ones acting out soap operas.”

“Which soap opera?” Brittany asked. Hope could hear both desperation and doubt in her voice. Hope could tell that she wanted to believe her mom, but part of her knew the truth.

“I only bring it up in case somebody heard me saying something that sounded odd,” Faith said. “That's all.”

“Everything out of your mouth right now sounds odd,” Yvette said. “What is going on here?”

“It's none of your business, Granny,” Joy said.

“I'm not hungry.” Josh shoved his plate. It knocked into his milk. They all watched as it sloshed over the side.

“Can I have your pancakes?” Brittany said.

“You'll get fat,” Josh said. “But what do I care.”

“Josh!” Faith said.

“What? You're the one who's always telling her that.” He sounded so hostile. Hope thought of the note Austin had slipped her. She had placed it on Josh's nightstand the previous evening. Had he read it? If so, it certainly hadn't cheered him up much.

“You're going to kill her self-esteem,” Joy said. She turned to Brittany. “Your body is beautiful and you don't need to worry about calories.”

“Thank you,” Brittany said.

“But you might want to avoid eating anything with a face.”

“Now that's just nonsense,” Faith said. Brittany squeaked. “Not you, darling. Your body is beautiful. But everyone has to think about what they're putting into their body. And cut it out with that ‘I don't eat anything with a face!' diatribe. My children will eat protein!”

“Pancakes don't have faces, unless you make them into little Mickey Mouses,” Harrison said.

“I love when you do that, baby,” Joy said. They rubbed noses.

“Like you're the expert on self-esteem,” Faith said, stabbing her food.

“That's what I love about my girl,” Harrison said, putting his arm around her. “My girl is confident.”

“And I certainly didn't learn that at home,” Joy said to Brittany. “So don't worry. You can acquire the skill too.”

“There is nothing wrong with Brittany's confidence,” Faith said. “You don't know the first thing about being a parent.”

Joy had that look in her eye. Hope tried to get her to look at her so she could talk her out of whatever was going to come out of her mouth next. “Apparently neither do you,” Joy said.

Hope looked at Josh and Brittany. Confusion was stamped on their faces as they tried to figure out whether or not they had just been insulted. “Sorry, guys,” Hope said. “This has nothing to do with you. We always end up squabbling when we're together.”

“Good thing you don't get together much, huh?” Brittany said. Hope felt a sear of pain in her heart. She bit her bottom lip. She hadn't planned on weeping during breakfast. Maybe they should have a “No Talking” rule at the table.

Josh shoved back from the table. “I'm going outside.”

“I think you should go to your room,” Faith said.

“Why? What did I do?” Josh's voice rose.

“You're giving me attitude, and talking back,” Faith said. “Your father and I have addressed that issue with you repeatedly.”

“My father isn't here now. Or haven't you noticed?”

“That's it. Go to your room.”

“I don't have a room.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I really don't know what you mean. I mean, you could be acting right now. Are you? Am I in the middle of another trashy soap opera?”

Faith stood. “You apologize to me at once.”

“No.”

“You're grounded.”

“I don't give a shit.”

“That's double for swearing.”

“I don't care.”

“I'll make you care.”

“How?”

“Don't push me, Josh. Not in front of all these people.”

“You're a hypocrite.”

“How did I raise such an ungrateful child?”

“Ungrateful? You bet I am. You're a liar. You're a cheater. You're cheating on Dad!”

Brittany wailed. She slapped her hands over her ears. “It's not true, right, Mom? It's not!”

Hope froze in horror, although it was somewhat of a relief that they were done pretending. God, this was a mess. How were they supposed to have a happy Christmas now? Should they even try?

“Cheated?” Yvette said.

“She has a lover,” Josh said. “Charlie.”

“Stop, stop,” Brittany said. She commandeered Josh's plate of pancakes and began shoveling them into her mouth.

“Let's talk about this in private,” Faith said, her voice cracking and quivering.

“Save it.” Josh got up from the table and walked toward the coats hanging by the front door.

“We'll talk about this,” Faith called after him.

“Not if I can help it,” Josh said. “I'm calling Dad to come get us.”

Fat tears rolled down Faith's face. Hope reached over and took her hand. A second later Joy's hand snuck over and she laid hers on top of the pile. It was a nice moment. For a moment.

“I expected more of you girls,” Yvette said. She got up from the table, entered the kitchen area, and removed a bottle of whiskey from the shelf.
That's where Dad got it,
Hope thought.

“Why?” Joy said.

Yvette drank straight from the bottle. She slammed it down and looked at Joy. “Why what?”

“Why would you expect more? You thought our mother was trash, and we didn't have a father.”

“You certainly had a father. A very good one.”

“A drunk one. One who abandoned us.”

“How dare you.”

“You certainly didn't come looking for us, did you? And now you're using this stupid house to force us to all be together so that we'll get it when you die. Screw that.” Joy threw her napkin on the table and stood. She started to stomp off. She stopped after a few steps and turned to Harrison, who was humming and eating his pancakes.

“Hey,” Joy said. “You're supposed to stomp off with me.”

“These are really good,” Harrison said. “Can't I finish?”

“Since there's not going to be any real love between us,” Yvette said, standing up herself, “we might as well go over the other rules.” She got up from the table and headed down the hall toward her bedroom.

“Are we supposed to follow you?” Hope called after her.

“No, I'm going to change and then the four of us are going to visit your father's grave.” The girls stood, wide-eyed and silent for a full minute after Yvette disappeared down the hallway.

“Did she say?” Faith said. All heads turned to Hope.

“Yeah,” Hope said. “She said that.”

* * *

They ventured out into the thick of the woods where a canopy of trees formed a little circle below. A beautiful spot to spread his ashes. Hope approved. She could think of worse places than being surrounded by this vista. The grave was outlined in baseball-sized rocks and topped off with a wooden cross. The four of them stood looking down. Roger lingered in the background, watching them.

“I thought you said he didn't have a grave,” Joy said.

“I didn't think you needed to see this,” Yvette said.

“What changed your mind?” Joy persisted.

“All of your arguing,” Yvette said. “You girls need closure.”

Hope sucked in her breath.
Daddy
. She wanted to lay her body on top of the grave and hug it. She shoved her hands in her pockets and wondered why her grandmother hadn't invested in a real headstone. She would look into ordering one. It could be from the three of them.

“Why doesn't he have a real headstone?” Joy said. Oh, holy night! There went Joy again, reading Hope's thoughts and speaking them out loud. She wanted to rail against Joy for doing it, but she probably didn't actually have a leg to stand on with that one.

Faith kneeled down and brushed leaves off the makeshift cross. “His name isn't even on the cross,” she said.

“Your father was a simple man,” Yvette said. “And a proud one. I'm doing everything according to his wishes.”

“We could have a headstone made,” Hope said. “From us. For Christmas.”

“Nothing says Merry Christmas like a new tombstone,” Faith said.

“Don't make light of this,” Hope said. “I want to do that for him. I want him remembered.”

“He loved Christmas, right?” Joy said.

“Our names prove it,” Faith said.

“That's what we should put on his headstone,” Joy said. “Faith, Joy, and Hope.”

“I think he'd like that,” Hope said.

“We'll come out here on Christmas morning and sing Christmas carols to him,” Faith said.

“I always thought we'd see him again.” Hope took a deep breath and turned her face to the sky.

“He lives on in each of you,” Yvette said.

“I want to be cremated,” Joy said.

“Gladly,” Faith said under her breath. Hope pinched her.

“You said there were other rules,” Faith said, turning to Yvette.

Yvette nodded. “This property is not to be sold as long as Roger is still alive.”

“Roger?” Faith said, glancing over her shoulder and lowering her voice. “Why?”

“He could live a long time,” Joy said.

“I hope he does,” Yvette said. “I hope he lives a very long time.”

“You're saying we can't sell the property until he dies?” Joy persisted.

“He's going to live out the rest of his life on this property,” Yvette said. “I'd also like one of you to live here. He needs looking after.”

The girls exchanged looks.

“What about my coffee shop?” Joy said. “I need start-up money.”

“Please,” Hope said. “Can we agree not to argue in front of our father's grave?”

Joy had the decency to look slightly ashamed. She stopped talking and nodded.

“We'll go to town and continue our conversation,” Yvette said. “I know a good pub.”

“It's not even nine o'clock in the morning,” Hope said.

“That's what makes it good,” Yvette said. She trudged forward and the rest followed. Hope wondered if it was such a good idea, given their current states, to get a few drinks in them.

“I can't just leave the kids here,” Faith said.

“I'll watch.” It was a gruff male voice and it came from several feet away. They turned to find Roger standing still, staring at them. They all stopped and stared at him.