can control children, teenagers, puppies and dogs, and those that can’t.
I was the latter.
And Jen knew it.
Twenty-Two
When we got home, Kate and Dan were waiting at the door, Kate’s face pinched. I observed the wheels of Pippa’s SUV crunch on the driveway like a big black tank as she powered off, waving. I had insisted on being chauffeur on the way home, after Pippa’s dodgy driving. She declined my invitation to come in, saying she had to pick her sister and niece up from the airport.
Kate stood there glowering at us, arms crossed. Dan went inside, slamming the door behind him. I wished Pippa had stayed.
“They look pissed,” Jen remarked with a little shrug. Did I detect a sort of Mona Lisa smile on her face? As if she had “one up” on them: a little secret she and I shared.
Our visit to Hearst Castle had gone beautifully. Touring through all the rooms—which overflowed with opulent art and furniture, in a hotchpotch of different periods in history—we were amazed at the amount of religious relics there were. Even lampshades made from illuminated manuscripts: pages that had been ripped out from priceless books, hand-bound painstakingly a few centuries before, and pored over by monks by candlelight. Sacrilegious! Our small party made it to the very top of the castle, into gilded rooms with views out to the ocean, glittering like a smooth lake, twenty miles away in the distance. We were told stories about the castle’s legendary parties, attended by famous guests, such as Cary Grant, Charlie Chaplin, and Greta Garbo. Kate and Dan hadn’t figured in our thoughts all day. I didn’t revisit the subject of Jen’s sick mum again, nor did Jen mention Juan. Pippa indulged in scandalous gossip about movie stars. Being a journalist, she had all sorts of inside scoop, some of it probably myth, but it entertained Jen. Me too. We discussed future college plans for Jen, and Jen said she wanted to travel the world one day. She even suggested we could go together. Pippa told her about all the places she’d backpacked to when she was in her teens and early twenties. It turned out she had met Juan in Mexico during her gap year and when he was visiting his grandparents. I had forgotten that, the way they’d met. Although Juan’s father was Mexican—a diplomat—his mother was a genuine WASPy New Yorker—a lawyer. Juan was born and bred in Manhattan and led a very privileged life spending his childhood in several countries because of his father’s profession. Later, Juan went regularly to Mexico, especially on business. He was, of course, bilingual.
Jen waved to Pippa as she drove away. Jen looked radiant from her day out.
Kate stood by the front door, glaring at her sister. “Where have you been?”
“It’s my fault,” I offered quickly. “I should’ve called you. There was terrible phone reception at one point, and then we lost track of time.”
“No,” Kate said. “Jen should’ve called us. Dude, why didn’t you call and let us know where you were? We were worried!”
In that second, it occurred to me that we were not family, and I’d been mistaken to imagine we were. Were they worried about us? About me? Of course not, it was Jen they had missed. Was my house just a hotel for Kate and Dan? Was I, the resident, a blip, a misfortune, a thorn?
No, of course not. I shook off my negative thoughts and focused on all the fun we’d had over the weeks, as a team. Jen and I had really bonded today. Apart from my meltdown in the bath with the champagne binge, this was the sort of day I had dreamed about spending with my daughter. The daughter I never had. Dan and Kate just felt left out, that was all. I’d need to spend quality time with them, too.
I had rebuked Jen today for bad manners but realized the relationship I had with the triplets was rare, despite my reservations. In today’s world, children and young adults are becoming more and more alienated from their parents, even if sometimes it’s the parents’ fault. Members of families individually glue themselves to laptops or video games, and cute kitten posts on Facebook, despite the fact they may be in the same room as one another, communicating through inanimate objects, not directly.
These three were not like that, and I needed to lighten up about “boundaries” and work on developing a tighter relationship with the other two. I was