Chapter Three
After the captain’s announcement, Virginia Talbot’s fellow passengers headed for the cafeteria. They apparently weren’t willing to second-guess the length of the delay.
She was grateful she’d eaten earlier, although not much.
This trip into Seattle was long overdue.
It’d been two years since she’d last talked to her sister.
They’d had a disagreement over their parents’ estate, and instead of settling it like civilized women, they’d argued to the point that they no longer communicated beyond a few terse text messages or emails.
Once they’d been as close as any twin sisters could be, caring for their aging parents, dealing with the aftermath of their deaths, each grieving.
Dad had been thoughtful in the financial decisions, making sure the estate had been evenly divided between them.
His goal was to eliminate any potential problems.
What he hadn’t anticipated was the disagreement over Mom’s china. It had been a wedding gift and used only for special occasions. As the oldest, Virginia felt she should take the twelve place settings and Veronica could have the silverware. The silverware was by far the more valuable of the two.
Instead, Veronica had insisted she should have the china and had no interest in the silverware.
Earlier, Virginia had given in on Mom’s pearls, letting Veronica have those when she had always admired them.
Veronica knew Virginia would treasure those pearls.
It was a power play to her, making sure Virginia got only what Veronica thought was right.
Hoping to keep the peace, Virginia had agreed to let her twin have the pearls. She got her mother’s ruby ring instead. Although she’d yearned for the pearls, she’d been determined to be content with this special gift from the estate.
When it came to the china, though, she put her foot down.
The china rightly belonged to her, and this time she wasn’t giving in.
The sole reason her sister wanted it was because Virginia had said she did.
This time she refused to bend. Veronica made a huge fuss, complaining to any and all who’d been willing to listen about how she’d been cheated.
The bad feelings escalated from there. At one point, sick of arguing, Virginia offered up half of the twelve place settings in exchange for half of the silverware. Veronica wasn’t interested. With her it was all or nothing.
If Veronica chose nothing, then that suited Virginia just fine. So nothing was what she got. The silence between them was deafening. Tragic. Sad.
As time passed, Virginia felt the loss of the close relationship she’d once shared with her sister. It hurt when their shared birthdays passed without a word from either. Holidays were the same. They’d always spent Christmas together, even as young newlyweds.
Their parents would be upset if they ever knew a twelve-place setting of china was what drove this wedge between them. Thankfully, they would never know, and for that Virginia would always be grateful.
Someone had to make a move toward reconciliation.
This silence was a thorn in Virginia’s side, an ache she couldn’t relieve.
She’d been a widow long before she lost her father and then a year later her mother.
Her children all lived in the Kitsap Peninsula and visited often. They were a close family.
This Christmas, however, both of her children would be away.
Will had plans to spend the holidays with his in-laws.
His family flew to the East Coast to be with Tamera’s parents.
It was only fair, as they hadn’t seen her side of the family in nearly two years.
They had dinner together a week earlier to celebrate and opened their gifts.
It came as a surprise when her daughter, Whitney, announced that her family had decided to take a ski trip to Whistler over Christmas.
When Whitney realized Virginia would be alone, she invited her mother to join them.
Virginia had no interest in skiing and even less in being away from home over the holidays.
It felt as if God was telling Virginia it was time for her to make peace with her twin.
For days she struggled with how best to reach out to Veronica.
A letter would be more personal, or even a phone call.
She debated both and found fault with each.
She feared Veronica might not answer if she knew Virginia was on the other end of the line.
Nor would she know if her sister took the time to read a letter.
In the end, she decided on a simple text.
She toyed with the wording for days, looking for a subtle approach without exposing her heart.
Veronica, do you happen to have Mom’s recipe for her Christmas gingerbread cookies?
She already had the recipe; they both did. Her twin was sure to know this request had more to do with their relationship than with cookies.
Waiting for a response was nerve-racking.
Two interminable days passed before Veronica replied.
Virginia had to grit her teeth, knowing Veronica had taken the time to make her squirm.
A dozen times she regretted making the effort when it was clear her sister, her identical twin, wasn’t interested in a reconciliation.
She’d swallowed her pride, and this was what she got.
By the time Veronica responded, Virginia had decided she’d made a terrible mistake. Her sister’s answer was short and to the point.
Of course. Would you like it?
Please, she returned.
Within the hour her sister had supplied the list of ingredients and baking instructions.
Virginia took the next step, holding her breath the entire time she typed out the question.
I’ve been in a baking mood lately. I could make a double batch. Would you like some?
Veronica replied to her only a day later rather than two. Virginia took the faster response as promising. This was headway, however small.
I haven’t done any baking this season. I would enjoy a batch of Mom’s Christmas cookies.
That was all that was said. Virginia spent the better part of two days baking gingerbread cookies, frosting and decorating each one in the hopes that these cookies would work a miracle. A healing miracle between two sisters who had once been more than twins; they’d been best friends.
Once the cookies were prepared, Virginia sent another text. Again, she struggled with the wording.
I’m afraid the gingerbread cookies are too fragile to mail.
That left it open for Veronica to either collect the cookies or invite Virginia to deliver them. The choice would be hers.
Three days passed before she got a reply.
Could you deliver?
Okay.
She didn’t say how pleased she would be to see Veronica again or anything else to indicate she was looking to make peace. To her way of thinking, Veronica needed to give her an indication she was willing to let bygones be bygones.
Eventually they’d set the date for December 23.
After checking the weather forecast for the day, Virginia chose to take the ferry.
Temperatures were dipping and there was a chance of black ice.
Driving in the city was intimidating enough.
She considered herself wise to hop on the ferry and take an Uber to her sister’s home on Capitol Hill.
Even though she’d caught the early ferry, giving herself plenty of time, it seemed unlikely she would be there at their agreed-upon time.
With some hesitancy, she felt it necessary to update Veronica on the possibility of a delay.
I might be a little late, she typed.
Veronica texted right back.
How late?
I can’t say for sure. She typed and was about to mention she was on the ferry when her twin’s response flashed across the screen.
I have plans for later, so I’ll need to know exactly how late you intend to be.
Virginia should have known her sister would make this difficult.
With her lips tight, she typed once again, her finger punctuating each letter to the point that her fingernails bent with the action.
As I said, I won’t know that until later.
Then perhaps it would be best if you didn’t come.
Virginia rolled her eyes before she typed the question.
Is that what you want?
Silence as deafening as the two years in which they hadn’t spoken. Loud and sad. So very sad.