Emily blinked. The last time she’d seen her older sister was the day before she’d gone into the hospital for her C-section. Emily had been hunched over the toilet in Carolyn’s dorm room—her morning sickness had lasted all nine months—and her sister had stood in the doorway, glaring at her with disdain. Emily had come clean to her parents about the baby not long ago, and her parents had forgiven her. Although they said Carolyn was going to call and apologize, too, her sister never had. Judging by the ambivalent look on her face, it didn’t seem like she wanted to now, either.
Mrs. Fields pushed Carolyn closer. “Carolyn came home to see you.”
Emily carefully dropped her backpack to the wood floor. “Really?”
Carolyn shrugged, a lock of red-gold hair falling in her face. “Well, all my exams were over. And I had a ticket voucher, so . . .”
“So, surprise!” Mrs. Fields said hurriedly. “Family needs to stick together, don’t you agree, Carolyn?” She nudged her again. “Give Emily what you brought.”
Carolyn’s mouth twitched. She grabbed a plastic bag and pushed it in Emily’s direction. Emily’s hand closed on something cotton. It was the same Stanford T-shirt Carolyn was wearing.
“Thank you,” Emily murmured as she held the shirt up to her chest.
Carolyn nodded stiffly. “It’s a good color on you. And I figured it would fit now that . . .” She trailed off, but Emily knew what she was going to say. Now that you’re not pregnant.
“Well!” Mrs. Fields clapped her hands. “I’ll leave you two alone to catch up.” She shot Carolyn an encouraging, hopeful smile, then disappeared into the kitchen. Emily sank into a chair in the living room, her nerves snappy.
Carolyn remained standing, her mouth twisted. She stared blankly at a picture of a barn that hung in the foyer like she’d never seen it before, even though it had probably hung in that spot for fifteen years. “I like my shirt,” Emily said, patting the Stanford T-shirt in her lap. “Thanks again.”
Carolyn shot her a look. “You’re welcome.”
She looked absolutely tortured. Emily crossed and uncrossed her legs. This felt like a disaster. What were they going to talk about? Why had her mom forced this? And seriously, Carolyn was still pissed? She needed to get over it.
“You can go upstairs if you want,” Emily said. The words came out more bitterly than she intended. “You don’t have to hang out with me.”
Carolyn’s mouth tightened. “I’m trying to make an effort, Emily. You don’t have to be so mad.”
“I’m mad?” Emily squeezed the chair’s arms. Then she sighed. “Okay. Maybe I am kind of mad at you. For the millionth time, I’m sorry I forced my secret on you—I shouldn’t have. But I wish you’d handled it differently.”
Carolyn’s eyes flashed. “I took you in,” she said in a hushed voice. “I slipped you passes to the dining hall. I didn’t tell Mom. What more did you want?”
Emily’s heart beat faster and faster. “I hated coming home to your room. And I was pregnant—that AeroBed was so uncomfortable.”
“You never complained,” Carolyn said exasperatedly.
“I didn’t feel like I could!” Emily exclaimed. “You made me feel so unwelcome!” Suddenly, she felt exhausted. She stood and turned toward the stairs. “Forget it. I’ll go.”
She curled her hand on the railing, fighting back tears. Just as she stomped on the first riser, Carolyn caught her arm. “Don’t, okay? You’re being silly.”
Emily’s spine stiffened. She didn’t feel silly. Five more minutes, Emily decided. If her sister continued to be bitchy, she was definitely, definitely shutting herself in her room.
She sat back down in the same chair. Carolyn sat opposite her. A few seconds passed. Pots clanked in the kitchen. Silverware banged together.
“You’re right. I just didn’t know how to handle last summer,” Carolyn finally said. “I was scared for you and the baby. I didn’t want to think of it as a baby, either. I couldn’t get attached—it just seemed too hard.”
Emily bit her lip. “Yeah, well.” It didn’t sound like that great of an excuse.
Carolyn lowered her chin. “I heard you crying in the middle of the night so many times. . . .”
Emily stared absently at the Hummel figurines her mother collected in the large curio cabinet in the corner. She remembered crying all too well. At least she’d had Derrick, her friend who worked with her at the seafood restaurant on Penn’s Landing. He’d served as sort of a substitute Carolyn.
“She’s supposed to be family,” she’d moaned to him once. “But she can’t even look at me. The other night, she was on the phone well past one thirty, with me on the floor next to her. I was so tired, and she knew it, but she didn’t hang up.”
“Why don’t you stay with me?” Derrick had offered. “I’ll crash on the couch. It’s fine.”
Emily had looked at him. Derrick was so tall that when he sat on the bench, his long limbs folded up in an awkward, insectlike way. He was looking at her intently and kindly from behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
She’d considered taking him up on his offer, but then she’d shrugged. “No. I’m probably already making your life miserable by dumping all this on you.” She’d kissed him on the cheek. “You’re sweet, though.”
Now Carolyn sighed. “The things you were dealing with were over my head.”