But apparently it wasn’t to be.
“This is Manhattan. It’s crowded. I see a lot of people.”
Beth gave up trying to extract information. “Ruby and Melly miss you. You’re the only family that lives close by. They love it when you visit.” She decided to test a theory. “Come over next weekend.”
“You mean to the apartment?”
Beth was sure she hadn’t imagined the note of panic in her sister’s voice. “Yes. Come for lunch. Or dinner. Stay the whole day and a night.”
There was a brief pause. “I’m going to be working right through. Probably best if you and I just grab dinner in the city one evening.”
A restaurant. In the city. A child-free evening.
Beth scooped Ruby up with one arm, feeling a wave of love and protectiveness.
These were her children, her kids, her life. They were the most important thing in her world. Surely her sister should care about them for that reason if nothing else?
The irony was that because Hannah rarely saw them, the girls saw her as a figure of glamour and wonder.
Last time Hannah had visited, Ruby had tried to crawl onto her lap for a hug and Hannah had frozen. Beth had half expected her to yell Get it off me! In the end she’d removed a bemused Ruby and distracted her, but she’d been hurt and upset by the incident. She’d remained in a state of tension until her sister had left.
Jason had reminded her that Hannah was Hannah and that she was never going to change.
“Fine. We’ll grab dinner sometime. You work too hard.”
“You’re starting to sound like Suzanne.”
“You mean Mom.” Beth unpeeled Ruby’s fingers from her earring. “Why can’t you ever call her Mom?”
“I prefer Suzanne.” Hannah’s tone cooled. “I’m sorry I’m canceling, but we’ll have plenty of time to catch up over Christmas.”
“Christmas?” Beth was so shocked she almost dropped Ruby. “You’re going home for Christmas?”
“If by ‘home’ you mean Scotland, then yes—” Hannah’s voice was muffled as she said something else to the stewardess—I’ll have the smoked salmon and the beef—
Beth might have wondered why her sister was ordering smoked salmon and beef when the
y both knew she’d take two mouthfuls and leave the rest, but she was too preoccupied by the revelation that her sister would be home for Christmas. “You didn’t make it last year.”
“I had a lot going on.” Hannah paused. “And you know what Christmas is like in our house. It’s the only time we all get together and the place is a pressure cooker of expectation. Suzanne fussing and needing everything to be perfect and Posy blaming me when it isn’t...”
It was so unusual for Hannah to reveal what she was thinking that Beth was taken aback. Before she could think of an appropriate response, Hannah had changed the subject.
“Is there anything in particular the girls would like for Christmas?”
The girls. The children. Hannah always lumped them together, and in doing so, she somehow dehumanized them.
Beth knew her sister would delegate gift buying to her assistant. It would be something generous that the girls would forget to play with after a week and Beth would be left with the feeling that her sister was compensating.
She thought about the fire engine currently smacking against her leg as she walked and knew she wasn’t exactly in a position to criticize anyone for overcompensating. “Don’t buy anything that squeaks or emits sirens in the middle of the night. And spend the same amount on both of them.”
She kept a mental tally and watched herself constantly to check she wasn’t showing a preference, that she wasn’t admonishing one more than the other, or showing more interest in one than the other.
Her children were never going to feel their parents had a favorite.
“I am the last person you need to say that to.”
In that brief moment, she and her sister connected. That single invisible thread from the past bound them together.