Wild Swans - Jessica Spotswood Page 0,15

it anymore.

Did she mean being his daughter?

Or being my mother?

Seems like she’s managed just fine with Isobel and Grace.

Why them and not me? Was there something wrong with me? Something that made her incapable of loving me the way a mother should?

I thought I was long past wondering why she left. Past wanting her to provide the answers. But her showing up here with Gracie and Isobel has brought back all my old questions. Maybe they were there all along, bobbing right under the surface.

Gracie’s still waiting for her answer.

“I was real little when your mama left. And I had Granddad and Alex and Luisa. I was okay.” I smile down at her. “But I’m glad you and Isobel are here now.”

“And Mama,” Gracie adds.

“And Mama,” I agree. But it tastes like a lie.

Chapter

Five

The moving van comes and goes within the hour. Two burly men cart boxes marked ERICA and IZ and GRACIE up to the second floor. I offer to help my sisters unpack, but Isobel snaps that they can do it themselves and practically slams the door in my face. The house feels as if it’s holding its breath in the calm before a storm, so I hide in my room and reread some Edna St. Vincent Millay. Which poem did Connor love enough to tattoo over his heart?

I can’t stop thinking about him, wondering what he thought of me, if he’s thought of me.

Granddad has another collection of Millay in the library. I’m halfway down the hall when I hear raised voices.

Erica and Granddad are arguing already. And I bet I know what it’s about.

I press against the wall, listening.

“Do you think it was easy for me to ask you for help? I’d rather bite off my own goddamn tongue. You always thought I’d come back home with my tail between my legs. Well, here I am. I’m broke. No husband, no house, no job. Happy now?”

“I only wanted the best for you, Erica. You may not believe that, but it’s true.” Granddad sounds bone weary. “I don’t think you’ve thought this through. The girls are going to find out. It’s a small town. People gossip.”

“Like I could forget.” A can pops open. “The things they said about me—about Mom—”

“You can’t erase Ivy because she’s inconvenient for you,” Granddad interrupts. “I won’t allow it. If you want to stay, you have to tell Grace and Isobel the truth.”

There’s a long silence, and then:

“I can’t. Rick threatened to take Grace away from me. You might not think I’m much of a mother, but I’m all she has. Girls should be with their mother,” she says, and the irony of that does not escape me. “If he knew about Ivy… I will not let that bastard use a mistake I made when I was eighteen against me.” Erica is pacing, her stiletto heels drumming against the wooden floor. “I will not lose another child.”

Lose. Like it was an accident and not a choice she made. Like I’m dead and not right here, ten feet away from her.

“No one took Ivy away from you,” Granddad says. “You left. And you can’t expect her to perpetuate this lie for you. She has feelings.”

“I don’t care,” my mother says, and the absolute truth of it knocks me breathless. I lean against the cool plaster, dizzy. “Bad enough that we have to live in this goddamn mausoleum all summer. I will not have my girls look at me the way you do. The way she does.”

Granddad sighs. “And how is that?”

“Like a loser!” Erica bursts out. “What did you tell her about me?”

“Hardly anything,” he says. “She’s old enough and smart enough to form her own opinions. If she’s angry with you, perhaps it’s because you deprived her of the chance to know her mother and sisters. Don’t you think she has a right to be hurt by that?”

“I was never good enough for you,” Erica says.

“That’s not true.” Their words are quick, familiar, like this part of the fight is a well-trod path. I wonder how many times they’ve had this argument. “You could have been amazing. You had a gift, Erica, and you threw it away.”

“I never wanted it in the first place! And that killed you, didn’t it? I was happy singing with the band and being a waitress. I didn’t want to go to college. Always liked boys better than school anyhow. You knew that, but you still acted like it was some kind of personal insult when I