Chapter 38
Val
“Knock, knock.”
Jackie stands in my office doorway, a wary expression on her face. Part of me hopes that wariness is understanding she’s done wrong. But if this is still the same Jackie who insisted she had no part in lying to our family about Jabari, then she can go right back where she came from.
Maybe she’s just here for work.
Right, there’s always that.
“Do you need something?” I ask.
A sheepish expression fills her face. “For you to look at me the same way you used to.”
“And how’s that?” I ask cautiously.
“Like my best friend. Like my sister.”
Was I her best friend or merely a convenient doormat? I rub my forehead, trying to get a sense of my emotions and how I feel.
“You are my sister. That’s never going to change.
” And it won’t. We’ll be linked forever.
“But I can’t be friends with a person who doesn’t understand or live out the words personal accountability.
I can’t be friends with someone who will lie to the family.
Who only calls me when she needs something.
Who only wants me to orbit her and doesn’t care about what’s going on in my life. ”
The words fly free, and with each statement, weights lift off me. I’m unburdened. A little sad that I have to say this to my sister, but thankful I got it all out. I meet her gaze. “Now, if there’s something work related I can help you with, I’m all ears.”
“Val . . .” She clears her throat. “We’re sisters.”
Yeah, and I’m not going to give an inch even if it kills me.
Yet the peacekeeping side of me is ready to cave.
Thankfully, now I recognize keeping quiet to avoid conflict is a lot different from actually bringing peace to those around me.
Jackie can take her sheepish expression and waltz back out of my office.
I only want to deal with her if she can be honest and contrite.
“I don’t have anything work related.”
I motion toward the door.
“Val . . .” She turns a remorseful gaze my way.
Her eyes have a puppy dog expression, as if the corners have actually turned downward. Her bottom lip begins to tremble. Before I can blink, she rushes forward and kneels before me.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have lied about Jabari cheating.”
“Why would you do that?” I’m trying not to sound accusatory, but the old hurt is welling right back up like Old Faithful.
She bites her lip and looks away. “He didn’t want me.”
“That’s not the story he told me.”
“He loved hockey more than me.”
Again with the excuses.
“Do you think not owning up to your part in this mess is going to make me love you any less? We’re sisters. I’ve had a built-in friend since I was born. But this”—I point back and forth between us—“is toxic right now. I need space if you’re not going to be a hundred percent honest.”
She stands and steps backward. “You sound like Isaac right now.”
My brother-in-law is right. I can’t imagine the hurt he’s going through, thinking his wife doesn’t love him. I pray they can fix it.
“Do you ever stop and think maybe we’re right?”
Hurt flits through her brown gaze but is gone before I can confirm what I saw. She folds her arms across the chest.
“Whatever. I agreed to get counseling because he threatened to leave.” Her lip trembles once more, the only sign she may be worried. “He wants to know that I want him, you know?”
I get it. I want to know she wants me around because I’m her sister and friend, not because I readily agree to watch my nephew or help her at work. “I hope counseling helps.”
“Me too. Can we forget about all this? Go back to the way it was?” she asks.
No way. Doormat Val is gone. What do I do, Lord?
“We’re never going to go back to the way it was.
Where I was at your beck and call and did whatever you want.
But maybe one day we can be true friends for real.
” I pause, then plunge ahead. “And you might want to go talk to Fran too. She deserves an apology. You haven’t been kind to her over the years. ”
Our baby sister is going to need our support because Dad is still walking around like she personally offended him. Not to mention, Mom is too busy chastising her and letting her know she’s not ready to be a parent.
“Fran’s not the most reliable.”
“Everything is different now. She needs her sisters.”
Jackie gives a one-shoulder shrug. “Maybe.”
She stares at her hands, and I wait for more. Honestly, I’m mentally drained by this conversation and old Val wants to end it and recoup.
“Are you going to keep dating Jabari?”
“I am. I really like him, Jackie.” I love him.
I want you to accept him like I’ve accepted Isaac.
Why can’t you just understand the world doesn’t revolve around you?
Yet I can see why accepting my older sister for who she is—a spoiled, entitled brat—will make reality better for me.
I don’t have to make excuses for her any longer.
She’s a grown woman and will have to deal with the consequences of her actions herself, not me.
“I can tell.” She shifts. “Val, you deserve happiness. You’ve always been the best of us Elliott girls.”
Guess that’s as close to acceptance as I’ll get. “It’s not a competition. I hope you know that.”
Jackie leaves and I exhale. Fatigue makes my eyelids droop and my body wilts under the words we exchanged. I grab the plastic water pot from my desk drawer and start singing to my plants. Singing helps me unwind and will loosen the knots that developed while speaking to Jackie.
“Your mother loved that song.”
At the sound of Dad’s voice, I spin around. “I don’t remember her liking the Beatles.”
“She’s not what you’d call a fan, but she did enjoy that song.”
I set the pot on the edge of my desk. “Do we have a lunch appointment?” I ask, reaching for my desk calendar.
“No, nothing until tomorrow.”
Oh, phew. Dad rarely visits my office, but when he does, it’s usually because we have a meeting. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to have you girls over for dinner tonight. Are you busy or . . .” He pauses, eyeing me warily. “Are you meeting Jabari?”
“Actually we aren’t getting together tonight.
He’s got a youth event he’s attending.” Which stinks.
I like seeing his handsome face on a daily basis.
Seeing him in New York and Jersey allowed me to get a glimpse of what our future could hold.
Plus, I haven’t seen him since Sunday. I miss him, though we’ve kept up a steady stream of voice texts every day.
“Okay, then you’ll come?”
“Sure.”
“Good. Fran and Jackie already agreed as well. I’ll give you a ride if one of the girls doesn’t offer.”
“Okay.”
I didn’t drive to work today, but Fran did. She usually does because she has to wine and dine clients and wants the freedom of her own car. I send a text asking her for a ride.
Of course you can ride with me. We have a lot to talk about.
Is this about her baby? Jackie? Or something else?
The rest of the day crawls by. I answer phone calls, send out emails, sit in a couple of boring meetings, then type up notes for those who didn’t attend. Finally, the clock hits five. I grab my jacket and bag and stroll down the hall toward my little sister’s office.
I stick my head in her room. “You ready?”
“So ready.” She stands up and points to her middle. “Do you see this?”
How cute! A little round mound protrudes through her shirt.
Now that Fran is in the late stages of the first trimester, her face is starting to look fuller, and apparently her stomach as well.
At eleven weeks, the baby is only the size of a strawberry.
Evidently she’s one of those women who starts showing early.
“I had to make a mad dash to the store to find suit pants because my regular ones refused to let me use the little hair-tie trick to keep them closed. And when I got there, all of a sudden I had a pooch.”
I smirk. “All of a sudden?”
“You know what I mean.”
I laugh. “You can always wear dresses instead. Then you don’t have to worry about your pants closing.”
Her eyes narrow as if she’s mentally picturing herself in dresses. “I’m pretty sure I only own pencil skirts.”
“Sounds like we need to go shopping. Don’t you remember how many dresses Jackie wore when she was pregnant with Ollie?”
“Yep.” Jackie sounds behind us. “It’s cheaper than buying maternity clothes, especially if you get swing dresses.” Jackie eyes Fran. “In fact, you could probably fit into mine if you don’t mind wearing my clothes.”
“Give them to me now,” Fran growls.
“And you need to keep a candy bar in your purse.” Jackie pulls out Fran’s favorite one. “Keeps the pregnancy beast on a leash.”
“Are you calling me an animal?” Fran sounds indignant.
I try not to laugh, but inside I’m misty eyed.
This feels like Jackie extending an olive branch.
Not to mention this is what I envision for our sisterhood.
Joking around but still showing up for each other as well.
Lord God, please let this be us every day going forward.
Fran will need us, especially if our parents and others ostracize her for one mistake.
“No, I’m saying a hungry pregnant woman is next-level hangry. No one wants to go near that, so keep snacks on hand. It’s practice for when you have a kid who always needs to eat.”
“So true,” I add. I often have the squeeze applesauce in my purse because Ollie is always demanding his next meal. Aren’t boys supposed to eat you out of house and home when they’re teens? Ollie certainly didn’t get that memo. Then again, he can’t read, so maybe it’s waiting in his internal inbox.
We head out to the parking garage, Fran and Jackie laughing and joking, and I grin.
Thank You, Lord, for this moment.