Sybil at Sixteen (10 page)

She wanted to tell Claire the truth, tell Claire that the tip to the FBI had originated with her, that Sam's family was collapsing because of her, but the words never came out. Maybe it was because Thea was there, and Sybil, who knew Claire would forgive her anything, couldn't be quite so sure about Thea. Maybe it was because, even if Claire did know and forgive, she wouldn't be there to protect Sybil. Maybe it was because Sybil suspected that while Claire would forgive her, she would no longer like Sybil or respect her, and Sybil couldn't bear the thought of conditional love from Claire. Maybe the moment was just never right. Whatever the reasons, Claire and Thea left without knowing of Sybil's involvement, and Sybil was relieved. So was Nick, she was sure.

They sat in the living room together, Nick reading a magazine, Sybil making some feeble attempt to concentrate on her chemistry textbook, both of them enjoying the silence. At one point Nick said, “We should take a walk,” but Sybil merely shook her head, and Nick didn't press it as he ordinarily would have. So much of Sybil ached just then it seemed unfair to single out her legs for therapy.

Sybil waited for Nick to say something to justify what they'd done, or at least to acknowledge it. Conspirators were supposed to talk about their crimes, she assumed. But Nick said nothing. Sybil glanced at the VCR, which Clark had left. She wondered if it was meant to be a gift, or whether he'd come back one day and take it. It didn't matter. The only tape they had was the one of the home movies, and Nick had put a stop to watching that. Not that any of them had been in the mood after finding out about Linda Steinmetz on the news.

“Evvie should call us,” Sybil said. “She must have heard something by now.”

“When she's ready,” Nick replied. “She has a lot to deal with just now.”

Sybil remembered as a little girl going to visit Aunt Grace in the house they now lived in. None of them had had much to say, not even Meg, and there had been long awkward silences when all Sybil could hear was the ticking of a grandfather clock. She remembered walking over to the clock and staring at it. She'd never seen a clock tick before. Finally Aunt Grace had had one of the servants drag Sybil away, for fear she'd leave fingerprints on the clock, or break it somehow. It must have been a very old clock, Sybil realized now, and Aunt Grace was probably right to protect it. She'd left the clock, along with everything else she owned, to a nephew of hers, a cousin of Meg's who was secure in his wealth, and unlikely to sell an antique clock for a little quick cash. Aunt Grace had been right once again. Nick would sell anything if he needed the money badly enough.

The doorbell rang, and Sybil got up with a start. She automatically thought it would be the FBI, but she wasn't sure whether they'd come to arrest her or give her a check. She smiled at her confusion, then opened the door.

Evvie was standing there. “You forget your key?” Sybil asked. It was all she could think of to say.

Evvie ignored her and walked into the living room. “We're going to talk,” she said to Nick.

Nick put down his magazine. “I'm listening,” he said, and Sybil realized he was, he was offering Evvie the full focus of his attention. Sybil sat down, but Evvie continued to stand in front of her father.

“I'm returning the key to this house,” Evvie said. “I'll have no further use for it.” She took the key out of her pocketbook and threw it onto the floor.

Sybil got up, retrieved the key, and put it in the pocket of her jeans. She knew if she hadn't, she would stare at the key, willing it to move. It was easier to do the moving for it.

“A fine dramatic gesture,” Nick said. “It's a shame Claire isn't here. She likes that sort of thing.”

“Sam's grandfather died an hour ago,” Evvie said.

“Oh, no,” Sybil said.

“He died an hour ago, and Sam wasn't there with him because he only got released from jail at eight this morning,” Evvie continued. “He spent the night knowing his grandfather had had the heart attack, they managed to get that message to him all right, but they wouldn't release him until this morning. He got the first flight he could to Saint Louis, and from there he'll get a connecting flight to New York, but he won't find out his grandfather died until after he gets to the hospital. His grandfather raised him, you know. His grandfather was the only father he ever really had.”

“Evvie, I'm sorry,” Nick said. “Are you going to New York to meet him?”

“The story gets even better,” Evvie said. “It seems Linda Steinmetz wasn't completely honest with Sam when she called. No reason why she should be; she's never been honest with him in her life.”

“How was she dishonest?” Sybil asked, hoping that somehow she would be exonerated by Linda's lie.

“She's dying,” Evvie said, not to Sybil, maybe not even to Nick. “She's past the point where she could survive surgery. She was so terrified of being caught she let her kidneys rot away, and now she's suffering from uremic poisoning, and it's only a matter of days before she dies. She called Sam from the hospital. She wanted to see him once before she died, and she was afraid if she told him the truth, he wouldn't come out. She couldn't bear the thought that if she said, ‘I'm dying, come out here so I can see you and die in peace,' he would tell her no. It was easier for her to put up with his rejection if she asked something enormous of him, something he'd have every right to say no to. She said she wouldn't even have disapproved if he had said no. It would have shown he was tough, and that would have gladdened her. But if he'd refused her her deathbed wish, then that would have shown he had no compassion, and she couldn't have borne that. That's what she told him when he met her at the hospital. She didn't have much more time to talk with him because the police came almost immediately and arrested the two of them.”

“Did they put her in jail, too?” Sybil asked.

“You don't put someone with less than a week to live in jail,” Evvie said. “They moved her to a maximum security section the hospital has, and they have armed guards around her room, just in case she decides to make a break for it, which is pretty ridiculous, given how many wires she's attached to, and how weak she is, and she isn't allowed visitors. When Sam was released, he went to the hospital first, and they wouldn't let him see her. He went from there to the airport, but he won't get to see his grandfather, either.”

“It's good he saw his mother,” Nick said. “Even if it was only for a few minutes. Take it from me. It helps to know what the person looks like, to hear their voice. It answers a lot of questions.”

Evvie stared at her father. “I don't believe you,” she said. “You sit there, acting as though you can identify with Sam, as though you have the vaguest idea of what he's feeling. His universe has collapsed in just four days. He's suffered losses so enormous that they can never be recovered. I love Sam and I always have and I always will, but I don't delude myself that the Sam I love is going to be the same person coming back from San Diego today. Don't you pretend you care. Don't you pretend you understand. I won't have that anymore.”

Nick smiled. “I seem to be damned if I do and damned if I don't,” he declared. “You wouldn't be any happier with me if I sat here reading the paper and claiming to have no idea of what Sam must be feeling.”

“You are damned,” Evvie said. “That's the first thing you've gotten right in a long time.”

“Don't say that!” Sybil cried.

“It's all right,” Nick said. “Let her get it out of her system. If Evvie wants to vent her rage on me, I can handle it. I'm not the defenseless dolt Clark is.”

“At least Clark's honest,” Evvie said. “He doesn't pretend to care about somebody and then turn around and murder them.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Nick said.

“You have every idea,” Evvie said. “Do you think I'm a fool? You must have known I'd figure out you were the one who set Linda up. Who else could find out where Sam had gone? Who else was petty enough to destroy a family just for twenty-five thousand? Not even a defenseless dolt like Clark would do something that evil. Only you, Nicky. Only the man who likes to call me his daughter.”

“You are my daughter,” Nick said, but the smile was gone, and Sybil could see pain starting to etch across his face.

“Maybe I was once,” Evvie said. “I know I've forgiven you a lot of things over the years because you were my father, because of those damned birthday waltzes, and the way you'd introduce me to your friends, and the way you'd smile and say how proud you were of me. I can't remember a time when you didn't have a special look in your eyes just seeing me. I remember all those nights you'd tuck me in and tell me stories, or carry in those endless glasses of water I demanded, or chase away the monsters I knew were lurking under my bed. And I've forgiven you a lot over the years because of who you used to be. But not anymore, Nicky. I have too many grievances, you have too many sins. And this last one is beyond endurance. Forgiveness is no longer an option. It's easier just to deny your existence than to try to make excuses any longer.”

“Things will get better, Evvie,” Nick said.

“No they won't,” she replied.

“Of course they will,” Sybil said. “They always do. No matter how bad things get, things get better. Look at me. Nobody thought I'd ever be able to walk again, except Nicky, and then I learned how to all over again, and I've gotten better and stronger, thanks to him. And we didn't have a home, and now we do, and soon Nicky'll be on his feet again, and things will be the way they used to be.”

“How?” Evvie asked. “With the twenty-five thousand he got for killing Sam's family?”

“I don't see how I can be held responsible for that,” Nick said. “I'm not the one who put the reward out for his mother. For that matter, the bank isn't responsible for what she did in the first place. Sam's life has been tragic, I'm not denying that, but the responsibility lies clearly with his parents and has nothing to do with me.”

Evvie shook her head. “That's your specialty, isn't it, Nicky,” she declared. “Denying your responsibility. Letting other people do the dirty work, and then gathering the benefits. I'm glad I was too young to understand how your business dealings worked. You probably belong in prison a hundred times over for those deals you concocted.”

“You're wrong,” Nick said. “I never did anything illegal.”

“Why should I believe you?” Evvie asked. “You think I don't remember those midnight moves? I've carried with me all those lessons you taught me about what to say to creditors and how to make an impossible situation seem like a trifle. I lied for you a thousand times before I was sixteen, telling people you weren't in, telling them about previous successes that never existed, except in your dreams, telling people that we were the happiest of families, no cares, no problems, just love and laughter and magic.”

“We were like that,” Sybil said. “I remember how it was. Everything changed because of me, because of the accident. It has nothing to do with Nicky.”

“Are you going to do that to her?” Evvie asked. “Are you going to let Sybil take on the responsibility now?”

“What responsibility?” Sybil asked. “It was my fault. I know, I didn't have the accident intentionally, but everything went bad because of me.”

“It was bad long before then,” Evvie said. “I don't know when things started to turn, probably long before I was born, but they were already bad by the time I was sent to Eastgate.”

“I knew you'd bring that up,” Nick said. “You always do when you get in a huff. Sure, I wanted you to go, and I wanted you to get along with Grace. Daisy wanted the same thing, although presumably her motives were purer than mine. And you went, full of resentment, and determined to have a bad time. Only you fell in love that summer with a boy you never would have met otherwise, who you intend to marry in a matter of months, and whose grief you claim to feel as intensely as your own. Smiling at a grouchy old woman seems a small price to pay for that kind of love.”

“You sent me so Grace would leave Megs something in her will,” Evvie said. “You sent me to do what you couldn't do, soften her rotten old heart, make her remember her responsibilities to Megs.”

“What if I did?” Nick replied. “You want me to apologize? All right. I'm sorry. God knows, if I'd been warned this was going to be the legacy, I would have forced you to stay home. That's one sin I'm certainly paying for.”

“I don't see why that makes you mad, Evvie,” Sybil said. “I would have gone if I'd been old enough. Making Aunt Grace like you was just for the sake of the family. We always do things for each other. That's how we are.”

Evvie turned to face her youngest sister. Sybil wasn't sure she could understand all the emotions Evvie was displaying. There was pity there, but Sybil was used to that. But there was something more, disgust maybe, or loathing, or maybe just grief. Whatever it was, Sybil couldn't bear to face it directly. She turned her head away and looked toward the hallway. That had been where the grandfather clock had stood, in the front hallway. She could almost hear its comforting tick.

“She's the only one left who still believes in you,” Evvie said, facing Nick again. “Oh, Thea maybe, but I'm not even sure about her. You lost just a little bit of her when you forced her to choose between Kip's needs and your own.”

“I doubt she even remembers that anymore,” Nick said. “You seem to be the only one with an encyclopedia of injuries.”

“The worst of course is Claire,” Evvie said.

“What about Claire?” Sybil asked.

“I'm sure this is great fun for you,” Nick said. “And I don't mind if you want to keep on for hours, but the time has come for a little privacy. There's no reason for Sybil to be subjected to your litany.”