CHAPTER THREE
“Ah, the hallowed grounds,” Claire said as she and Sybil walked to Evvie’s apartment. “See that little grocery on the corner? I used to meet Scotty there for our secret assignations.”
“How many did you have?” Sybil asked. She had gone to Evvie’s apartment several times since the move to Boston, but this was her first guided tour with Claire.
“One, I think,” Claire said. “Maybe two. It’s all so long ago, and it was so really unimportant. That streetlight over there, right by their house, that’s where I got him to kiss me.”
“Was it hard?” Sybil asked.
“For him or me?” Claire replied. “Actually, Scotty was a very good kisser. The moment would have been romantic, if I’d been in it for romance.”
“Instead of money?” Sybil said.
“Not money,” Claire said. “Not then. I wanted him to kiss me because Thea was there. I didn’t work out the money angle until later.”
“How much later?” Sybil asked. The sky had turned overcast, and the conversation was keeping her mind from the ache in her legs.
“I don’t know what you’re asking me,” Claire said. “But if you want to know if Scotty was in on it with me, then yes, he was. I never would have gotten him to marry me if he hadn’t understood my plan. He did it to make Thea jealous.”
“Poor Thea,” Sybil said.
“She deserved it,” Claire said, walking up to Evvie’s door and ringing the bell. “The way she was carrying on about Kip. She didn’t care how much she hurt Scotty. Thea can be incredibly insensitive when she wants to be.”
Sybil sighed. There was no getting through to Claire about her own insensitivities. Sybil was just glad she could be friends with them both.
And things had worked out reasonably well. Thea and Scotty remained close, although no romance had ever developed. Sybil had gotten the time in the rehab center she needed. Claire had a beautiful portfolio. And the Hugheses still had plenty of money. Sybil suspected there was a lot she could learn from Claire’s techniques.
They walked up the flight of stairs to Evvie’s apartment, and Claire knocked on the door. Evvie opened it, and Sybil noted instantly that Evvie had been crying.
“What’s the matter?” Claire asked. “Evvie, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “This is just a bad time.”
Claire and Sybil walked into the apartment. Everything looked the same as it had the last time Sybil had been there, and Sybil found that comforting somehow. She couldn’t remember ever having seen Evvie cry.
“Is somebody sick?” she asked.
“Yes,” Evvie said. “No. Not in the way you think. Look, it’s an awful mess. I’m sorry. I know we invited you for lunch, and I should have called to cancel, but this morning has been awful, and I wasn’t thinking straight.” Sybil noticed that Evvie was keeping her voice low. She looked around the apartment for signs of Sam, and saw the bedroom door was closed.
“Is Sam okay?” Sybil asked. She’d grown to love Sam over the years. As far as she was concerned, he was a perfect big brother. “You’re still getting married, aren’t you?”
Evvie managed a half laugh. “We’re fine,” she said. “He’s fine. Look, it’s very complicated.” She paused, and began to cry again.
Claire gave Evvie a hug. “It’s okay,” she said. “Whatever it is, you’ll work it out.”
Sybil heard some noises in the bedroom, and turned around to see Sam opening the door. He looked even worse than Evvie, tearstained and red with some emotion Sybil couldn’t define. “Get your damn sisters out of here!” he shouted. “They don’t belong. Get them the hell out, already!”
“We’re going,” Claire said. “Evvie, give us a call.”
“Thea,” Evvie said. “She can’t come here.”
“I’ll call her at Scotty’s,” Claire said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Thank you,” Evvie whispered. “I love you both.”
“We love you, too,” Claire said. “Come on home if you need to. No one else is there right now.”
“Maybe,” Evvie said, and half pushed them out of the apartment. Sybil followed Claire down the stairs. She felt like weeping, although she couldn’t be sure why.
“Happy Easter,” Claire said as they left the building.
“Do you think that was what was bothering Sam?” Sybil asked. “That it was Easter?”
“I don’t think so,” Claire said.
“Then what was it?” Sybil asked. “It had to be something terrible. Have you ever seen Evvie crying?”
“Once,” Claire replied. “After your accident. Evvie cried for days after that.”
“But not since then,” Sybil said. “And Sam was so angry. Did we do something wrong?”
“Calm down,” Claire said. “It was probably just a fight. Couples have them. Nicky and Megs don’t have them like the rest of the world, but everybody else does. Evvie probably wanted to put hot sauce in the soup or something, and Sam didn’t like it hot and one thing led to another and they both got upset. Hot sauce will do that.”
“You can’t believe that,” Sybil declared. “That was not a frivolous fight.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” Claire replied. “It isn’t my crisis. Now, do you want to go back to Aunt Grace’s or should we find a place to eat here?”
“Home,” Sybil said. “And don’t call it Aunt Grace’s.”
“Pardon me,” Claire said. “How’re your legs holding up?”
“They’re fine,” Sybil said. “There’s no need to baby me, Claire.”
“I love the holidays,” Claire said. “Happy family gatherings. They make me wish I was an orphan.”
“Sam’s an orphan,” Sybil said. “So are Nicky and Megs. They all seem to love it.”
“There are orphans and there are orphans,” Claire said. “But if I were an orphan, I might not have you, and where would I be then?”
“Can we take a cab back?” Sybil asked. Cabs were such an extravagance she was loath to request one, but her legs were starting to ache, and she didn’t think she could manage all the walking mass transit would involve.
“We’ll find one,” Claire promised, and indeed soon they were being driven back to Beacon Hill. Claire didn’t seem to mind paying, and Sybil was grateful that one Sebastian at least had a good-paying job.
Claire called Thea, and then made sandwiches for their lunch. Sybil gave herself some medication, and hoped the pain would vanish. She knew she was tired from the excitement of having her sisters home, and her legs always bothered her more when she was tired. That and the weather, and she might find herself spending the evening lying on the living room sofa with everybody hovering about. “I think I’ll take a hot bath,” she told Claire. “Soak in hot sauce for a while. That might help.”
“Fair enough,” Claire said. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
“I won’t,” Sybil said, but it was hard just climbing up the stairs. She was glad Nick and Meg weren’t there to see her. She could feel their eyes on her sometimes, feel Nick’s body strain with her effort.
The bath helped both her legs and her spirits. What she couldn’t get over, she decided as she toweled herself, was the way Sam had spoken. She thought he loved her, Claire, and Thea. She thought Sam felt like a member of the family. She hadn’t realized he could think of her as Evvie’s damn sister. Not even a name. Just a title. Nick was right. Blood really was all that counted. Everything else was window dressing.
She straightened up the bathroom, not wanting to leave any clues of a midday bath that would cause Nick or Meg alarm, and joined Claire downstairs. They were both reading when the doorbell rang. Claire got up and answered it, and when she returned, Evvie was with her. Evvie didn’t look much better than she had in her apartment.
“I needed to explain,” Evvie said.
“Sit down,” Claire said. “Can I get you something?”
“No thanks,” Evvie said. “I couldn’t
possibly eat. I’m much too upset.”
“About what?” Sybil asked. “What was going on? Why was Sam so angry at us?”
“He wasn’t angry at you,” Evvie said. “We weren’t fighting about you.”
“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?” Claire asked. “I could make us some tea if you want.”
Sybil stared at Claire. Claire was kind to Sybil, but to no one else, as far as Sybil knew. Whatever was going on, Claire obviously knew how serious it was. More unshared secrets? Sybil, who’d always assumed she knew everything in the family, was increasingly disconcerted by how much she didn’t know.
“No tea,” Evvie said. “I’m fine, really. Furious, but fine. Furious and worried sick. You probably guessed. It’s Sam’s mother.”
“What mother?” Sybil asked.
Evvie looked at Claire. “You never told her?” she asked.
“No,” Claire said.
“I thought you told her everything,” Evvie said. “You never told anybody?”
“It wasn’t my secret,” Claire said. “It was Sam’s and yours. I told you that then.”
“You did,” Evvie said. “Sometimes I forget I don’t really understand you.”
“That’s okay,” Claire said. “You understand me well enough.”
“Will the two of you stop it, already!” Sybil demanded. “What’s going on? What mother? Sam’s parents are dead. Why was he so angry?” She realized she was angry, too, at Sam, at Evvie, and at Claire for keeping things from her. She felt as if her life was on constant display. Everybody knew everything about her, but they all kept secrets. They couldn’t possibly be trying to protect her. She was far past the point where they could protect her.
Evvie closed her eyes for a moment. “This is very hard for me,” she began. “I’m sorry, Sybil. I assumed you knew the basic story. I thought Claire must have told you years ago, after she found out. I even thought Claire might have discussed it with you today, after you left my place. Now I have to explain everything, and I don’t know where to begin or how much to tell you. Give me a moment, all right?”
“Years ago?” Sybil asked. “You’ve known something for years and you haven’t told me? Does Thea know?”
Claire shook her head. “Not from me, she doesn’t.”
“I never told her, either,” Evvie said. “Possibly Scotty has. I’ve never told Nicky and Megs.”
“How could Scotty know something Nicky and Megs don’t know?” Sybil asked.
“Maybe they do know,” Evvie said. “Clark might have told them. What a mess.”
“Do you want me to explain to Sybil?” Claire asked. “While you calm down?”
“No, it’s okay,” Evvie said. “Sybil, I’m sorry to ruin your Easter with this situation. I’m sorry if you’re upset to learn that there are things going on you don’t know about. I apologize for Sam, too.” She stopped, rubbed her face with her hand and took a deep breath. “When Sam was very young, his parents were involved with a crime. They were political radicals, and they blew up a bank and people died. His father died in the explosion, but his mother escaped, and she’s been underground ever since. Sam hasn’t seen her since then. He was about two, and he went to live with his grandparents, his mother’s parents, and he had no contact with his mother. None of them did. She might have been dead, and they wouldn’t have known. She was last seen running from the explosion. That was all anybody knew.”
“But Sam always said his parents were dead,” Sybil said. “He was lying?”
“He had to,” Evvie replied. “Or at least he felt he had to. He didn’t know the truth himself until he was eleven. Both sets of grandparents agreed to that, but when he was eleven, they finally told him what really had happened. He lived with his mother’s parents, the Greenes, and he was called Sam Greene—they changed his name legally to that—and everybody thought his parents had died in a car crash. No one made the connection between him and his mother because of the different last names. Her name was Linda Steinmetz. When Sam spent his summers at Eastgate, it was different, because there he stayed with his Steinmetz grandparents, and everybody knew the whole story, which is how come Clark knows, and maybe Scotty. Schyler certainly knows. He was the first one to tell me.”
“I didn’t know that,” Claire said. “That little SOB.”
“Aunt Grace knew, too,” Evvie said. “Somebody would have told me sooner or later. Sam would have, himself, once we fell in love. It’s just very hard for him, because his life with the Greenes was filled with lies. Nobody at school knew the truth. None of his friends. I was the first person he really cared about who knew the truth.”
“I can see why he didn’t want his friends to know,” Sybil said. “But why didn’t you tell Nicky and Megs? You must have wanted to.”
“Of course I did,” Evvie said. “I went off to Eastgate thinking our family would never have any secrets. I came back knowing that wasn’t true. It was a brutally painful lesson to learn, and it still hurts sometimes.”
Sybil suspected Evvie wasn’t just talking about Sam, but this was no moment to press for further details. It occurred to her fleetingly that she might not want to know what other secrets there were. Maybe she was entitled to some protection after all.
“Sam’s mother is underground because the police, the FBI, they all want her for homicide,” Evvie said. “She’s wanted on a capital offense, and they’ve never stopped looking for her. There’s even a twenty-five thousand dollar reward on her head from the bank she blew up. It’s something Sam’s lived with for years, and his grandparents have lived with it, too, and now I live with it as well.”
“How do you mean?” Sybil asked. “I thought you said his mother hadn’t contacted him in all those years.”
“She hasn’t,” Evvie replied. “But the FBI’s never given up hope that she will. There were FBI agents at his father’s parents’ funerals. There were agents at his graduation from Harvard. There’ll be agents at our wedding. Our phone is tapped. I don’t care. I think it’s kind of funny knowing they’re monitoring my calls. They must be bored out of their minds. But when Sam got the job at the Globe, he had to go to his editor and tell him not to ever give out Sam’s home phone number to any source, in case he was working on a politically sensitive story. He figures they wouldn’t dare tap his office number. That was when he decided to write under the name of Sam Steinmetz Greene. It practically killed his grandparents when he told them, but Steinmetz was his father’s name, and Sam’s tired of lying and hiding and not being allowed to be normal. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he should have kept the whole thing secret.”
Sybil tried to picture denying her parents, but it was inconceivable. Her name was Sebastian and she was proud of it. Poor Sam, not even knowing which last name to use.
“I gather Mom Steinmetz has made contact,” Claire said.
Evvie nodded. “Sam got a note yesterday in the mail,” she said. “No return address of course. Just a typed note sent to our house telling him to call a certain number from a pay phone this morning at seven. So he did. I didn’t like the feel of it even then, but there was nothing to say. I didn’t know it was about his mother. Neither did Sam. He went to the phone booth and made the call. I wanted to go with him, but he wouldn’t let me, so I guess he suspected it had something to do with her. There’s a little part of Sam that he can’t reveal, not even to me, and I learned long ago not to push him.”
“But he told you about the call when he got back,” Claire said.
“He did,” Evvie replied. “He took a huge pile of change with him, because he knew better than to put the call on his phone card. Close to ten dollars in dimes and quarters. We practically spent all of yesterday afternoon getting change for a dollar from every shop in the neighborhood. There was nothing in the note that said it would be a long call. I guess Sam’s been waiting for that note most of his life. He knew to take a lot of coins. And he used them all up. He was down to two quarters when he came back.”
“Did he speak to his mother?” Sybil asked.
“Yeah,” Evvie said, and she began to cry again. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just so angry, and Sam’s in so much pain, and he won’t let me do anything about it. He feels he can’t.” She dug out some tissues from her pocketbook, blew her nose, and used the moment to get back in control. “At first he couldn’t be sure. He doesn’t know what his mother sounds like. He’s seen some videotape of her from old newscasts, but that tape was over twenty years old, and it isn’t the same. But she told him things only she could have known. Things about his grandparents. That’s really all they have in common, her parents, his grandparents. So he believed it was her. I wish I had been there. I wish Sam had let me be there.”
“He must be very scared,” Claire said.
“I know,” Evvie said. “You’re right. He’s always been scared his mother would turn up. He’s always been scared that she wouldn’t. It’s his mother, you know, and she abandoned him. Whatever else she’s done, she abandoned him. He was lucky his grandparents took him in. God only knows what might have happened if they hadn’t. I hate her so much. I’ve never said that before. I never had anybody I could say it to. I hate Linda Steinmetz for what she did to Sam.”
“Why did she write to Sam now?” Sybil asked. “Does she know he’s getting married?”
“She wouldn’t care even if she did know,” Evvie said. “Actually, she might know. Sam said she knew he’d graduated from Harvard, knew where he was working. She obviously knew his address. Maybe all these years she’s had friends tell her about him. Sam swears his grandparents have had no contact with her.”
“Did he tell them about the phone call?” Claire asked.
“That was one of the things we fought about,” Evvie said. “No, he didn’t. And there was a reason why she wrote now, and not two years ago, or two years from now. She needs something from him.”
“What?” Sybil asked.
Evvie took another deep breath. “This would be funny if I didn’t love him,” she said. “It seems Linda’s suffering from kidney disease. She’s begun dialysis. But she can’t stay in one place too long, because of the FBI, and there’s a tremendous amount of paperwork involved in getting the dialysis paid for, and she can’t become too visible to any section of the government, so that’s out, and she can’t wait around for a cadaver donor for a kidney transplant. So she needs a healthy kidney, and she needs one fast, and she figured her best bet was for Sam to donate one. He has a spare. He’ll never miss it. Sam is to drop everything, fly clear across, well I can’t tell you where, and get tested to see if his kidney is compatible. And he’s doing it. He agreed! That’s what we were fighting about when you came this morning. We’ve been fighting about it since he made the phone call. He’s crazy. He owes this woman nothing. She never did a thing for him except give birth and maybe change a diaper or two. His father wasn’t any better, but at least he had the decency to die. Not Linda Steinmetz, though. Not tough-as-nails Linda. The invisible woman. Twenty-one years without even a birthday card, and poof, she needs Sam to risk his life, and she doesn’t hesitate for a moment to ask. And he agrees. That’s what I can’t get over. I’m Sam’s family. Me and the Greenes, and his aunt Ronnie. Not this stranger.”