the front steps, I catch up to Tamara, Alice and Steve as they enter the foyer.
I put my hand on my sister’s arm and draw her aside. Tamara shoots down the hall past us, heading for the parlor. I’ve arranged a small pile of colorfully wrapped boxes on the coffee table.
Steve jogs after her. “No opening the presents until everyone’s in the room, sweetie!” he calls out.
Alice and her husband firmly limited me to five presents, because they know me too well. The Christmas fiasco of 2015still haunts them. Hey, Tamara was two years old – what good uncle wouldn’t build a giant wall of gifts? And is it my fault the construction of the gift box wall was shakier than expected? I’ve never built one that high before.
Anyway, Tamara escaped with only minor scrapes and bruises, and I’m sure she’s recovered from the trauma of being briefly buried alive under gift boxes, and will lead a normal and productive life.
Probably.
I shove my hands in my pockets and take a deep breath. “So, I have to tell you something.”
“If it’s about the doll, forget it.” Alice shakes her head. “I’ve told her repeatedly that she might not get it, and that she needs to be grateful for anything she does get. She has a very comfortable life; every once in a while, she’s going to have to experience disappointment.”
“It’s just that I–”
“She’s probably more disappointed that you didn’t make it home this year for Thanksgiving, Christmas, or Easter,” she continues.
“I was a little busy.” I’m stung.
“For the first seven years of her life?” she mutters.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“When someone says ‘nothing’ in that tone of voice, it’s never nothing,” I say sourly.
“All right.” Her eyes flash with challenge. “You’ve been asking a lot about our parents lately, trying to get me to say that they did everything right. Especially Dad. You want to hear that the sun shone out of his behind, so that you can use his life as a guiding principle for yours. You are your own man. Don’t be like Dad. Please. It’ll ruin any chance you have of a happy relationship. Our father’s workaholic ways weren’t good for the family. It wasn’t good for any of us.”
I’m stunned to hear her say that. She never badmouths our parents. “He was a product of his time!” I splutter indignantly. “And he was a little busy running a retail empire. Mom understood! It didn’t hurt their relationship at all. They were as thick as thieves. They were always together when he wasn’t working.”
“Yeah, sure.” She shrugs and looks away.
“You guys! What are we waiting for?” Tamara calls from the living room. “We’re burning daylight here!” Her dad’s favorite expression.
“Be right there, sweetie!” Alice yells back.
“Why are you telling me this?” I demand.
She heaves a sisterly sigh of pity. “Because if you don’t want to ruin it with Winona, you need to get a freaking life and make room for her to be in that life. And don’t tell me that you’ll find another Winona when you have more free time.”
“I wasn’t going to.” Pain bubbles up inside me at the thought. “There’s only one Winona. Believe me, I know that.”
There’s only one Winona, who thrills me and infuriates me and sets my senses on fire. There’s only one Winona, who I miss every minute when she’s not there, with whom I carry on imaginary conversations when she’s not with me.
Alice softens. “Is she speaking to you?”
“Not sure.”
I tried to kiss her yesterday evening, after we settled Xena into the carriage house with the housekeeper. She turned her face away and left with a murmured good night.
“I mean, she hasn’t emptied a garbage can on my head lately, so there’s that.”
“She emptied a garbage can on your head?” Alice grins so wide that her face almost splits. “When, and what was in the garbage can?”
I look at her reproachfully. “Wow. Just wow. Look at that smile. I don’t think you were this thrilled on the day you gave birth to Tamara. And you were the one who raised me during my formative years. Is it any wonder that I grew up a lost, broken man who’s incapable of love?”
“What else has she done to you? Let’s see, she perfumed you, she garbaged you…” She starts ticking it off on her fingers.
I give her a sour look. “I’d tell you, but it would make you happy, and that’s not an outcome I want.”
The front door flies open, and Henry rushes into the foyer,