Sisterhood Everlasting - Ann Brashares [109]
Carmen was squeezing his hand with both of hers, probably too hard. If he was brave enough to say it, then God, she would be brave enough to listen. She found it hard to look at his face. She knew the ending.
Why would a man travel thousands of miles on a train with two small children if he had a wife? He wouldn’t. His wife didn’t call him on his cellphone because she wasn’t there. Roberto made the gestures of parenthood like he’d done them thousands of times because he had done them thousands of times. There was no faking, no show, no stalling for the mom to swoop in, no mom.
He put his chin to his chest. She held his hand. He got up and walked out of the train car. She watched his back, the shape of his shoulders, the particular rhythm of his walk.
How truly strange it was that after twenty-four hours she knew him better than she knew three and a half years’ worth of Jones. She not only knew more about Roberto; she knew him. He’d shown her his seams, as Jones had never done. Maybe Jones didn’t have any.
When Roberto returned a few minutes later, it was with two more beers and a face he’d put back close to normal. He sat down next to her. He handed her a bottle and then lifted his to clink against hers. To what? she thought. To saying everything.
It was the stab of a lion cuff link in her thigh as she folded her knees onto the uncomfortable chair in the British Airways terminal that made Lena think of it. Who knew why? She didn’t let herself wait. She found the much-neglected name on her contact list and called it.
For once there was an answer. “Hello?”
“Ef?”
“Lena?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Hey,” Effie said. She sounded subdued and uncharacteristically guarded, but what did Lena expect?
“I’m sorry, Effie. I really am. I treated you badly. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”
Effie didn’t say anything at first. Lena could hear her breathing. “Not everything was your fault.” Effie’s voice was shaky when she finally spoke. “You weren’t wrong about everything. I made mistakes too.”
“My mistakes were much worse, Ef. You came to help me. You brought all that stuff. You were really trying and I wasn’t. I wasn’t even giving you a chance.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“I wasn’t.”
Effie paused and Lena heard her sister blowing her nose. “That’s why I kept the extra two hundred bucks Mom and Dad gave me and bought a sweet pair of cowboy boots with it.”
“You didn’t.” Lena laughed and Effie blew her nose again.
“I’ll share them with you.”
“You know they won’t fit.”
“I bought them big. I thought of that.”
“Aw, really? That’s nice, Ef.”
“Hey, Len.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m sorry about the Traveling Pants. I really am.”
“I know. It’s okay.” For the first time Lena meant it when she said it. She knew that what had happened to Tibby wasn’t the pants’ fault. In fact, she realized she was grateful that their pants were out in the blue, keeping Tibby company.
They said a tearful goodbye, and Lena looked out over the hated terminal with an unexpected feeling of well-being. One thing you could say about Effie, you never felt alone when she was at the other end of your phone. She’d claimed she didn’t matter enough to help Lena, but she certainly had.
After the third beer, it was Carmen’s turn again. She had more to tell, and Roberto seemed to know it. He waited for her.
She started with the first couple of years after college, moving to New York. She led him through her succession of painful jobs: hostess, coat-check girl, waitress, telemarketer, food stylist. She told him the longest it had taken her to get fired (seven months) and the shortest (an hour and a half). She recounted the happiest times, the almost two years she’d roomed with Tibby and Bee in the hilariously crappy walk-up on Avenue C and East Eleventh Street, when Lena had slept on their floor four nights out of seven.
She felt the need to try to represent that old time, that old self. “You see, I used to be sort of … bigger.”
“You mean fatter?” he asked, like that wasn’t so hard to believe.
“No. Well, probably. But I mean I was just … more there.”
She