credit card bill would be astronomical this month since she’d bought the Carolina Herrera dress on the Dallas trip, but damn it, she deserved a few nice things. No use in the money she and Kit had being hoarded away for her kids to squander.
She tooted her horn.
Where was Hillary? They had to be at Marc Mallow’s office at two. He’d squeezed the cake tasting in between two other appointments and made it clear he appreciated promptness.
Finally, the door opened, and her sister emerged. She wore a long, loose dress, and her hair had been curled. Hillary’s thin body made Melanie wince every time she saw her sister.
She noted Hillary didn’t have her purse and came around to the driver’s side. Melanie rolled down the window, knowing what was coming. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Hillary looked around as if she’d stumbled outside naked and photographers lurked in the bushes. “Uh, why don’t you go on ahead without me? I’m just not feeling very festive today, and I don’t want to ruin the whole cake-tasting thing.”
Disappointment thunked in Melanie’s stomach. Her sister wasn’t coming with her. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to do this with me and Emma? Is it because we’re tasting cake?”
“No,” Hillary said with a wave of her spidery hand. In the afternoon light, her sister’s gauntness seemed more pronounced. Her once luxurious hair was wispy frizz, her bones so prominent it hurt to think about how she rested upon them, and her once bright-blue eyes had sunken into dullness. Hillary had become a ghastly shadow of herself. It made Melanie’s heart squeeze so hard that tears threatened. “I want to go, but I just . . . I can’t, Melly bean. I know you don’t understand, but . . .”
Hillary seemed to not be able to find the words.
And Melanie didn’t have the words to make her sister feel better about her inability to show up. “It’s fine.”
But it wasn’t. It was just something Melanie said because being angry that her sister couldn’t put anyone else in front of her fears or being furious that Hillary was so powerless against her diseases wasn’t going to change anything. Her frustrations would serve only to drive her sister further away from her, and at present she felt as disconnected as she had ever been from her.
“I’m sorry, Mel. I am. I love you and Emma, and I thought I could go, but I . . . just can’t.”
Melanie swallowed down the gigantic lump in her throat, unshed tears still threatening. She’d been excited to have Hillary involved in some way, another buffer against Tennyson’s steamroller of “fabulous” ideas. She’d thought Hillary would be able to help her with the wedding, allowing them to connect, make memories, build something strong enough to ground her sister in wanting to get better. She knew it was stupid to think that, but she so wanted her old sister back. “I understand. I wish you could come today. But you’ll be at the shower next weekend, right? It’s at Tennyson’s house and . . . you know.”
Hillary nodded. “I know. Not going to be easy, but if I remember Tennyson, I’m sure there will be lots going on, so it won’t feel like you’re entering the enemy’s camp.”
“I better go,” Melanie said, glancing at the clock radio. “I’m going to be late as it is.”
“I’m sorry,” Hillary said, shading her eyes.
Melanie needed to talk to her mother about getting Hillary a complete health workup and ensure she was still going to her therapy appointments. Hillary had become an expert at hiding her “sins.” Melanie glanced at her sister’s knuckles for signs she’d been purging. From her angle she couldn’t tell.
“You’re okay, right?” Melanie asked as she put the car into reverse. “I mean, you’re still talking to Dr. Beth.”
Hillary’s expression shifted into one Melanie was familiar with. “Yes. Stop worrying. I’m just dealing with some anxiety, but I’m working through it. I should be fine by next weekend. I’ll be at the shower. Now go before Tennyson orders a monstrosity of a cake with edible sequins and live doves.”
Melanie managed a laugh as Hillary walked up the driveway. She gave a small wave as she shifted into drive, but Hillary was already closing the door.
Something that felt like guilt, grief, and ickiness waffled around in her gut. Something didn’t feel right with Hillary, and she wasn’t sure their mother was paying close enough attention. Another to-do item on her list. Talking with her mother