“Well, look at you, Miss Tycoon, with your flashy hotels, your fancy glass office and your assistant. You’re a real success. When Mom finds out the detail of how well you’ve done, she’ll be proud.” There was a wistful note in her voice that made Sam grind her teeth.
“Success is not about staying in hotels and having a glass office. It’s about meeting your own goals.” Realizing what she’d said, she eyed her sister.
“Choice Not Chance,” they chorused together, and Ella snorted.
“Some mornings my goal is simply to manage to use the bathroom without Tab asking me to explain nuclear fission. I miss her so much.” Ella stripped off her clothes and filled the bathtub. “But I confess the idea of a deep bubble bath on my own is totally bliss.”
Sam checked her emails, only half listening. “You don’t have to visit our mother again tomorrow. I can do it. You can go home right after breakfast.”
“No.” Ella talked to her above the sound of running water. “If we’re visiting again, then we’re doing it together.”
Samantha pushed open the bathroom door. Ella’s head was visible above clouds of bubbles.
“I’ll deal with it.”
“We’ll deal with it together. Don’t argue because right now I’m going to soak in this tub and switch my brain off.” Ella leaned back against the edge of the bath, eyes closed, cheeks pink, hair curling around her face in the steam. “This is bliss. We all need Charlotte in our lives. Is Amy sleeping any better?”
“Judging from the mistakes her mother is making, the answer to that is no.” But Samantha smiled. “Even with a soggy brain, I wouldn’t be without her.”
“My brain was very soggy after I had Tab.”
There was a knock on the door and Samantha turned. “That will be the pizza. Hurry up.”
By the time Ella emerged from the bath, Samantha had the pizza box open.
They ate, chatted, watched a movie and then settled down for the night.
Ella was talking to Michael again, snuggled under the covers. “Do you miss me?”
Samantha rolled her eyes and slid into one of the two beds. She slathered cream on her face and her hands, switched off the light and tried not to hear her sister’s whispered conversation.
They were both exhausted, and yet Ella was still whispering away.
What was it like to love someone so much you’d prioritize a conversation over sleep?
And what if she never found out? What if she wasn’t capable of being open enough to have a real, meaningful intimate relationship?
At some point she must have fallen asleep, because when she woke the clock by the bed said it was 7:00 a.m.
Ella was still sleeping soundly.
Samantha rolled onto her side and watched her, remembering all those times they’d shared a bed as young children, keeping each other company in the dark.
“Stop staring at me,” Ella murmured. “It’s freaky.”
“Great. You’re awake.” Samantha sprang from the bed and grabbed the room service menu. “How do blueberry pancakes sound?”
They chatted easily, shared breakfast, showered and eventually headed across to the hospital.
Their footsteps echoed down the long corridors, and when they reached the room their mother was in, they both paused and looked at each other.
“Dinner,” Samantha hissed. “That’s all that’s on offer.”
Ella nodded and pushed open the door, her expression suggesting she was here for major surgery, not for a visit.
Gayle was sitting up in bed.
“You look a little better.” Ella walked across the room and Samantha watched as she kissed their mother dutifully on the cheek.
Did their mother have any idea how anxious they both felt around her?
She was grateful for Ella’s warm, generous nature that had her plumping pillows and fussing around with drinks.
And then she realized her sister was fussing because she was nervous.
“Did you get any sleep?”
“A little. It was noisy.”
Samantha managed a brief smile. “Hospitals.”
“Yes, not much fun.”
The awkwardness was back.
They talked about superficial things—the weather, the traffic in Manhattan, whether there was too much construction—and just when Samantha was starting to think their mother had forgotten all about her idea of spending Christmas together, she raised the subject.
“Did you think about what I said? About Christmas? A family gathering?”
Ella sent Samantha a desperate look and she knew this was up to her. Ella would never stand up to their mother. If they didn’t want Gayle ruining Christmas, Samantha had to handle this once and for all.
“A family gathering sounds—” Awful? Like the worst possible way to spend a day? Also, supremely awkward given than Ella had more “family”