Evvie at Sixteen

  “Do you ever think about what you gave up?” Evvie asked. “Marrying Nicky instead of someone like Clark?”

  Meg shook her head. “There was never a choice,” she said. “I knew as soon as I met Nicky that he was my life. I gather you feel the same way about Sam.”

  “It took me a few days more,” Evvie said. She watched as her mother kneaded the dough for another half minute, then put it in a bowl, which she covered with a towel.

  “So tell me how Aunt Grace is,” Meg said. “Did the two of you get along all right?”

  Evvie laughed. “As well as we could,” she said. “I respect her more than I used to. But I’ll never really like her.”

  “She’s difficult,” Meg said. “Rigid at times. But you always know where you stand with her. She never lies.”

  “Do you miss that?” Evvie asked. “Living with someone that honest.”

  Meg smiled at her oldest daughter. “How can I miss anything if I have Nicky?” she replied. “Except you, this summer. I could have used your help around the house.”

  “You know I’m terrible at that sort of thing,” Evvie said. “And it looks to me like you did a fine job without me.”

  “This house will never be what I want it to be,” Meg said. “If we owned it, then I could tear things down, and that would help. But as long as we’re stuck with a rental, I can only do so much.”

  “It looks a lot nicer than it did before I left,” Evvie said.

  “The garden helps enormously,” Meg said. “Just having vases full of flowers brightens things. Nicky’s office turned out the best. Have you seen it yet?”

  Evvie shook her head. “I went straight to my bedroom,” she said.

  “I hate that room,” Meg said. “It’s the worst room in the house, and everything I’ve tried in there has failed.”

  “It won’t be forever,” Evvie said.

  “That’s true,” Meg said. “The ski resort deal looks very promising. If it works out, we could be out of here before New Year’s.”

  Evvie looked at her mother and marveled at her faith in Nicky. Grace’s detectives’ report hadn’t stood a chance. But then, there was nothing she could hear about Sam’s life that could stop her from loving him.

  “I love you, Megs,” she said. “And I’m glad to be home.”

  “I love you, too,” her mother said. “Now go admire Nicky’s office. Admire him, too, while you’re there.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Evvie said. She hopped off the stool and gave her mother a kiss. As she walked to Nicky’s office, she clutched Sam’s note and wished he were there with her. Sam would know what to say to Nicky. He would know what not to say as well.

  Megs was right about the office, Evvie found. The room looked great. The shelves were lined with books, all of Nicky’s awards were hung or displayed, the windows shone, and through them you could see a garden in full bloom with zinnias and marigolds. Somewhere Megs had found an old desk, which she had stripped and restained until it looked like an heirloom and not a garage-sale find. It reminded Evvie of the desk in Grace’s library. She wondered if her mother had thought of that desk as well.

  “The room looks better than it did the last time you saw it,” Nick said, walking up to his daughter.

  “It does,” Evvie said. Nick had met her at the train station, and she had felt strained being in the car with him, but this was harder, this was worse. “Megs must have worked hard on it all summer.”

  “We all did,” Nick replied. “Sybil stripped the desk down. She’s very good with her hands. I admire that.”

  “I guess she takes after Megs that way,” Evvie said. George Keefer, she thought.

  Nick nodded. “Not like you or me,” he replied. “How was Eastgate?”

  “It was fine,” Evvie replied. “Very educational.”

  “In what way?” Nick asked.

  Evvie looked at her father and thought about how little she really knew him. There were years and years of lies between them, and even the truths she’d learned about had gaps. Missing months, missing years. Possible criminal activities. Nicky asked a lot on faith.

  She thought then, he knows I know. He’s waiting for me to wound him. All I have to do is call him George, or mention that he graduated seventh in his class, and I’ll cut him more deeply than he’s been hurt in years.

  But what difference would it make? Even if she forced him to admit to the truth, he’d only be lying. And there was nothing wrong with a lie, as long as the truth didn’t come out.

  Besides, she’d promised Nicky she’d love him no matter how her visit to Eastgate went. And he’d extracted that promise from her knowing the risk he was taking, knowing Grace would find some way of telling Evvie everything she thought would disillusion her the most.

  “You said it was educational?” Nicky prompted.

  “Very,” Evvie replied. “People still remember you in Eastgate. They remember that summer when you and Megs met.”

  “What else is there for them to remember?” Nick asked, and Evvie could see the relief in his eyes and maybe even some gratitude. “It’s just high and low tides, and the occasional hurricane. I was a phenomenon there, and Daisy was a miracle.”

  Evvie smiled at her father. “I fell in love in Eastgate, too,” she said.

  “So I’ve heard,” Nick said. “Care to share the details?”

  Evvie gave Sam’s note another squeeze. “Relax, Nicky,” she said. “And I’ll tell you all about him. I’ll tell you all I can.”

  Turn the page to continue reading from the Sebastian Sisters series

  CHAPTER ONE

  “What a dump.”

  “I wish you’d stop saying that,” Thea Sebastian said to her sister Claire. “You say that about every place we move into.”

  “They’re all dumps,” Claire replied.

  “At least we own this dump,” Sybil Sebastian said. “Have we ever owned our dump before?”

  Thea and her two younger sisters turned to their oldest sister, Evvie, aged eighteen and family expert, for the answer. “I think we may have owned one years ago,” she said. “Right before you were born, Claire. But we’ve rented ever since then.”

  “And now we own,” Thea declared. “And Megs will get to really work on the house, turn it into a mansion. You wait and see, Claire.”

  “This house will never be a mansion,” Claire replied. “Maybe less of a dump, but no mansion.”

  “Think how much better it is than that awful place we had in Harrison,” Evvie said. “A couple of years ago, when we first moved there.”

  “The house was awful, but I liked Harrison,” Sybil said. “I don’t see why we had to leave there.”

  “We left because Nicky thought he could do even better here in Briarton,” Thea said. “And the way Nicky’s been going, he’s bound to be right.”

  “He’s on a lucky streak,” Claire said. “It’ll never last.”

  Thea stared at her sisters. Evvie was two years older than she was; Claire, two years younger; and Sybil, four years younger. Except for Claire, Thea loved them all, almost as much as she loved her parents, Nicky and Megs. Except for Claire, they were the perfect family: close, caring, and full of fun. She wished she could believe Claire was a foundling, some unrelated baby Nicky and Megs had taken in as a misguided act of charity. But while she, Evvie, and Sybil all had Megs’s blond coloring and blue eyes, Claire, with her black hair and blazing green eyes, was every inch Nicky’s daughter. Not that Claire liked Nicky. Not that Thea liked her.

  “I know this house feels like a comedown,” Evvie said. “That last place in Harrison was pretty spectacular.”

  “We each had our own room,” Sybil said. “I never had my own room before.”

  “But it was a rental,” Evvie continued. “And you know how much it means to Megs to have a real home, a place she can work on. So we share again.”

  “That’s easy enough for you to say,” Claire replied. “You’re going off to college in a week. Then Thea gets th
e room all to herself. Meanwhile Sybil and I have to share for the rest of our lives. It’s so unfair being younger.”

  “Sometimes I think everything’s unfair,” Sybil said, and Thea turned to pay attention to her. Sybil didn’t waste much time complaining.

  “We’ve already explained it to you. Opportunities were better here,” Thea said. “Don’t you want Nicky to be real rich again?”

  “If that would only happen,” Claire said. “Were we ever really rich, Evvie? Tell us about the richest we ever were.”

  Evvie laughed. She curled up on the floor next to her bed, and rested her feet on an unpacked box. “I guess we never were as rich as Aunt Grace or Clark,” she said. “They own their mansions. But once, long ago, Nicky did have a major boom and for a year or so we were wonderfully rich. Then the boom busted. The mansion we lived in vanished, and the servants we had vanished, and the only things we had left were each other and our memories.”

  “I don’t even have the memories,” Claire complained. “All I ever remember is us being poor and pretending not to be.”

  “That’s better than being poor and acting like you’re poor,” Thea declared. “Besides, we aren’t poor now. So stop whining, Claire, and hand me that box.”

  “Sometimes I feel like all I ever do is unpack,” Sybil said. “This is our third home in two years. My entire childhood has been spent in a suitcase.”

  “Think how I feel,” Evvie said. “I don’t know whether I’m packing or unpacking. When we left Harrison, I know I put everything in a deliberate order so I’d remember what I was leaving here, and what I was taking to Harvard. But now it’s all a jumble, and I have to start all over again.”

  “Harvard,” Thea said. “You’re actually going there.”

  “In a week,” Evvie said.

  “That’s another thing that isn’t fair,” Claire said. “We’ve already started school, and you have another whole week.”

  “I wish I was there already,” Evvie replied. “It’s driving me crazy that I have a week left to go.”

  “Because you want to be in school, or because you miss Sam?” Thea asked.

  “Both,” Evvie said.

  “You really are lucky,” Thea declared. “You go off two summers ago, to spend time with Aunt Grace in Eastgate, while we’re stuck in that terrible house in Harrison, not knowing a soul, and you fall in love, and you stay in love, too. Just like Megs when she met Nicky the summer she was sixteen.”

  “Except Sam is reliable,” Claire said. “Unlike Nicky.”

  “Do you really think you and Sam are going to get married?” Sybil asked.

  Evvie nodded. “But not until I’m through with college,” she said. “That’s why we’re both going to Harvard. So we can be together while we wait.”

  “I hope I fall in love,” Thea declared. “I’ve been sixteen for three months already, and I haven’t met anybody to fall in love with except the guy who drove the moving van.”

  “Love is overrated,” Claire replied. “I don’t want to waste my time being in love. I want to be rich instead.”

  “You can be both,” Thea said. “Even though money doesn’t really matter.”

  “I don’t want to be piddling rich,” Claire said. “I want to be so rich I can eat diamonds.”

  “I just want to be rich enough so that I can live in one place forever,” Sybil said. “When I’m grown up, I never want to pack or unpack again.”

  “I won’t care what my life is like,” Thea declared. “Just as long as I’m as much in love with my husband as Megs is with Nicky. The way you and Sam are, Evvie.”

  “That’ll happen,” Evvie promised. “Just give yourself some time, Thea.”

  “I’m tired of waiting,” Thea grumbled, and then she laughed. “I sound like Claire,” she said. “Yuck.”

  “Yuck to you, too,” Claire said. “Come on, Sybil. We have our own stuff to take care of.”

  “Okay,” Sybil said. “See you later.” She followed her older sister into their bedroom.

  “Are you sure you labeled some of the boxes Harvard?” Thea asked Evvie when they were alone. “I remember you said you were going to.”

  “I was going to do lots of things I never got around to,” Evvie replied. “I’m afraid I’m going to be leaving you with an awful mess.”

  “That’s okay,” Thea said. “It’ll make me feel better having your things around. Maybe I’ll miss you less that way. We’ve moved so often, you’ve always been my one best friend. And now we’ve moved again, only this time you won’t be here for me.”

  “Oh, Thea,” Evvie said, and she got up and hugged Thea. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

  “As much as you miss Sam when you’re not together?” Thea asked.

  “Differently,” Evvie said.

  “Tell me about love,” Thea said. “I know I’m always saying I’m in love, but I want to know what it’s really like. I am sixteen now. I’m the age girls in this family fall truly and permanently in love. So tell me what to expect.”

  “Look, Thea, I never expected to fall in love when I was sixteen,” Evvie said. She opened up a box, stared into it, sighed, and closed it again. “Sam was an accident that summer. He was there, and I was there, and that was it.”

  “But suppose you hadn’t met him that summer,” Thea said. “Suppose you met him next week at Harvard. Would you fall in love with him then?”

  Evvie nodded. “I’d fall in love with Sam if we were both seventy-five years old and married forever to other people,” she replied. “I know that’s how Nicky and Megs feel, too, kind of preordained. But I don’t think all love works that way. Maybe just the spectacular kind.”

  “That’s the kind I want, then,” Thea said. “And I want it now.”

  “Take my word for it, it’s easier if you wait,” Evvie declared. “Sam’s grandparents aren’t real thrilled that we’re still in love. And frankly, Nicky and Megs haven’t been crazy about the idea, either.”

  “Because Sam’s Jewish?” Thea asked.

  “Because he’s different,” Evvie replied. “He isn’t what they would have picked for me, and I’m certainly not what the Greenes would have picked for Sam. Not that everyone hasn’t been very friendly and tolerant. But it would have been easier if we’d met later, when we were older. Maybe seventy-five. By then the Greenes wouldn’t care.”

  “I know Nicky and Megs will like whoever I fall in love with,” Thea said. “This box is definitely yours, and it’s definitely stuff you want to take with you, Evvie. Check it out.”

  “Good,” Evvie said. “This box is yours. It’s all your poetry books.”

  Thea walked over and moved her box to her side of the room. “Last year, when we had money again, I kept buying poetry,” she declared. “I didn’t read nearly as much of it as I meant to. Maybe this year I’ll read it all. Sometimes I think I’d like to be a poet.”

  “Great,” Evvie said. “There’s a lot of money in that.”

  “Now you sound like Claire,” Thea said. “I want to be so rich I can eat poetry.”

  The girls laughed. “I wish you weren’t going,” Thea said. “I wish you could stay here forever, and things could be the way they always were. I didn’t even like us having separate bedrooms last year. I like sharing everything with you, Evvie.”

  “Life doesn’t always work that way, Thea,” Evvie said.

  Thea grinned. “I may be a romantic, but even I know that,” she said. “Everything changes. Mansions come and go. It’s only love that lasts forever.”

  “Love and zits,” Evvie said. “I’ve had one right under my chin for ages now.”

  “Let me look,” Thea said, and she was engrossed in Evvie’s skin problems when Megs knocked on their door.

  “Supper’s ready,” Meg said. “I see you’ve gotten a lot done here.”

  “We talked,” Evvie said. “I can never talk and unpack at the same time.”

  “We’ve been in this house for almost two weeks,” Meg said as sh
e escorted her daughters downstairs. Thea could hear Sybil and Claire already in the kitchen. “And the house looks like we arrived here yesterday.”

  “You’re being impatient, Megs,” Evvie said. “You own this house. You can take as long as you want to get it looking just right.”

  “It’s nice to think that way, but it really isn’t true,” Meg replied. “Nicky wants us to start entertaining as soon as possible. And I can’t have anyone over with the place looking like this.”

  “I’ll do more tomorrow, I promise, Megs,” Thea said. She did feel guilty over how little she’d done. Claire and Sybil already had their bedroom set up. Sybil, she suspected, had done all the work, while Claire bullied her around, but whatever the system, it had proved more efficient than her and Evvie’s trick of falling into conversation and leaving the boxes right where they were.

  “It’s my fault, too,” Evvie said. “I really thought I’d packed better when we moved, but now, each time I open a box, I find half the stuff is going with me, and the other half is staying, and the thought of having to repack everything depresses me so much I don’t get anything done.”

  “I know,” Meg replied. “Nicky says we can afford a piano, and half of me is so excited that I want to go out and buy it right now, and the other half of me says, wait, get the wood stripped and the walls painted before moving a piano in. So I don’t do anything. I just sit around the living room and daydream about how lovely it will be to have a piano to play again.”

  Thea looked at her mother. Megs had grown up orphaned, in the house of her aunt Grace. Aunt Grace wasn’t the warmest, most loving person around, but she had provided Megs with everything a proper girl from proper society should have. And that included a piano. The plan had been that Megs would fall in love with and marry someone equally appropriate from Boston society, probably Clark Bradford, who’d been in love with her since the day Megs stopped wearing diapers. But instead, on her sixteenth birthday, Megs had met Nicky Sebastian, also an orphan, but one without money or social position. None of that had mattered. They’d fallen in love, and in spite of Aunt Grace, had eventually married, and continued to love each other while raising four daughters, and dealing with the ups and downs of Nicky’s fortunes. Now the fortunes were up, and Megs could have her piano again.