I said nothing, a tad ashamed that not only did I not keep in touch with the few friends I had back home, but that I didn’t even call the New York lot, mainly because they were Juan’s friends, not mine. I hadn’t felt the need for anyone else in my life but him. Juan had been my world.
A mistake. I’d put all my eggs in one basket.
As for my parents. Well, how could I begin to explain the unloving, staccato relationship we had?
I didn’t want to reveal anything more to Jen, so I got out the road map—never did like the digital vibe of a GPS—and distracted Pippa and Jen with possibilities of where to have lunch, and whether to buy our Hearst Castle tickets online first or wait until we got there. The lack of cell phone reception closed down that idea anyway. Then we stopped for gas, and when Pippa went in to pay, I took the opportunity to talk to Jen alone. Something she had said earlier alarmed me.
I twisted my body so I was almost facing her, as she lounged in the back seat. “How did you know, Jen, that I was younger than Juan?”
Jen was still trying to google Hearst Castle on her phone. “What?” she said distractedly.
“A while back you seemed to know that my husband was a little older than me. How did you know that?”
Jen stopped what she was doing. “You’re right, the reception really is crap around here.” She laid her phone on the back of the plush leather seat. “I guessed because the pictures in your photo album show you looked really young.”
“You’ve been snooping through my things?”
“Photo albums are up for grabs, aren’t they? Kind of like Facebook photos.”
“No, they’re not ‘up for grabs’ unless someone invites you to look at them. I never gave you an invitation to rummage through—”
“They were in the library, not your bedroom.”
“Okay, fair point,” I conceded. I looked out of the car window to see how Pippa was getting on. She was still inside the garage, paying. “So why did you ask me earlier if Juan was handsome if you’d already seen pictures of him?”
“I wanted to hear you say it,” she said.
“Jen, you must remember to always ask before you—you look at people’s things. You’re old enough to know better.”
“They were just photos. Just wanted to get to know you better.”
“That’s nice, but those albums are personal, and speaking of which, you mustn’t borrow my clothes in the future without asking first. All right?”
“Like your robe, you mean?”
“Like my robe, yes. Or anything else you might have your eye on. My closet is private, some of my things gifted from loved ones; I don’t want you rummaging through it.”
Jen pouted. “Isn’t it fun to wear each other’s clothing?”
“And, I noticed, someone has put all the glasses upside down in the kitchen cabinet, when I’m used to having them face up.”
“What’s the difference?”
“It’s disconcerting to find things in your own house rearranged.” I could feel my nerves on edge.
“Does it matter? The glasses are more stable upside down, right?”
“As a matter of fact, yes, I do happen to like the new system. However, it’s not for you and your siblings to decide such things when you’re guests.” I instantly felt unwelcoming and neurotic. Bad move, reminding Jen that they were guests. “Forget it,” I said, “never mind about the glasses, you’re right, it really doesn’t matter.”
“I was only trying to be tidy. Trying to help out.”
“I don’t mean to be such a stickler, but it’s just respectful and polite. If you’ve got good manners you’ll get a lot further in this world. Good manners are free, they don’t cost a penny.” My mother’s words had just sprouted from my lips, but I didn’t want to take them back. I sat resolutely into the bucket of my seat and adjusted it back a little. We still had a way to go.
“So Juan died in a car crash, what, like, seven months ago, right?” Jen asked suddenly.
I flinched. “I told you I don’t care to go there! I just want to have a nice day out, and I’d rather talk about you, anyway. How’s your mum doing. Better?”
“No, she’s not better. She’s dying. She just doesn’t want to admit it. She could even be dead, right this minute.”
“Don’t say that.” I hated to think Jen had jinxed her mother by saying those words. “Jen, I’ve been thinking,” I said, “running this over and over