The Secret of Joy (33 page)

“I’m so comfy, though,” she said. “Well, not that comfy.” She laughed, then wailed again. “I’m so tired. Did you hear I killed Tim?”

Rebecca’s heart squeezed in her chest. “Theo saw him going into Mama’s an hour ago with a Band-Aid on his temple. He’s alive and eating pizza.”

Sobs from the bathroom. “I hate him so much. And I hate his stupid mother.”

“Ellie, come on out, and you can lie down on the couch. We’ll stay with you, okay?”

There was a moment of silence. Then another wail. And then some thudding sounds, then a click, then the thud again. Had she opened the door? Rebecca and Theo locked eyes, and Rebecca tried the doorknob. It turned. She let out a deep breath and gently opened the door. Ellie lay in the empty bathtub with a towel covering her up to her chin, mascara running and smeared all over her face. The empty bottle of tequila was on the bathroom floor. And Ellie had vomited near the toilet.

“I just want him to love me,” Ellie said, pulling the towel over her head. Pieces of her straight dark hair were splayed against her mouth, and Rebecca pushed them aside. “Why doesn’t he love me? Why? Theo? Are you still here?”

Theo came into the bathroom and sat down on the rim of the tub. “I’m here.”

“Why doesn’t he love me?”

He took her hand and held on to it. “I can’t answer that, Ellie. But I do know it’s not because you’re not beautiful. And it’s not because you’re not wonderful. It’s not because of you at all.”

“Then I can’t do anything about it,” she said, and burst into tears again, pulling the towel over her face. Her sobs racked her slight body.

Theo picked her up out of the tub and carried her to the black leather couch. He lay her down and covered her with a throw and stroked her hair. “Ellie, honey, it hurts like hell, but you’ve got family and friends who love you and who will see you through it.”

Ellie cried and turned to face the back of the couch. Maggie stroked her hair, and in a few minutes, she was so quiet that they realized she’d fallen asleep.

Maggie let out a very deep breath. “She’s going to have some headache tomorrow.”

Theo slid down on the floor, his back against the couch, his face pale.

Maggie handed him a cup of coffee. “This should help.” She headed back into the kitchen and brought another cup for Rebecca, her hand shaking. “I think she’ll see my therapist now. I couldn’t convince her to make an appointment before, but I bet she’ll go now. Thank you, guys, so much for coming. I was so scared. I’ll stay the night with her.”

Rebecca rubbed Maggie’s shoulder. “I’ll stay here with you.”

Theo downed his coffee, then headed into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of Pine-Sol and Ellie’s Swiffer WetJet and a roll of paper towels and went into the bathroom. When he came out, he said, “Much cleaner in there now.” He put away the mop and cleaning supplies. “Okay, I’m gonna go. If you need me, call.” He locked eyes with Rebecca for a moment, then left.

“He’s gold,” Maggie whispered. She turned out the lights and lay down on the floor, her head on one of the floor pillows.

Rebecca found a linen closet near the bathroom and took out two cotton blankets. She covered Maggie with one, then lay down next to her and stared up at the sliver of moonlight on the ceiling for a long while before she finally fell asleep, the sachet-scented blanket no match for the smell of Pine-Sol.

In the morning, Ellie did have a killer headache. She was also mortified. She swore she wasn’t serious about killing herself, that she’d hit rock bottom and had no where to go but up, right? She’d even called her mother, who’d called Ellie’s four aunts, who’d called their daughters and daughters-in-law, and they were all coming over at nine to take care of their girl.

When the very loud group of women arrived—there were at least ten of them—talking over themselves, shrieking, grabbing Ellie into fierce hugs, “That lying, cheating loser of a wuss doesn’t know from blood!” was among the bits and pieces Rebecca was able to make out.

Ellie had family. And she had friends. And they would all make sure she was okay.

Once Rebecca and Maggie had Ellie’s sworn vow to call Maggie’s therapist that morning, Rebecca and Maggie finally left. The cool morning air was like a rejuvenating blast, but Rebecca still felt shell-shocked. And her back hurt like hell from sleeping on the floor.

“I think she scared the bitter right out of herself,” Maggie said as they walked to her car. Maggie looked exhausted, dark circles and puffy bags under her usually alert hazel eyes.

“And she’s not even an ex yet,” Rebecca said. “I’m worried.”

“She’ll be fine. I’m sure of it. I’ve been there. Not quite as bad, but worse in other ways. We just need to keep a close eye on her for a good while. Plus, she’s got all those women to rally around her, too. She’ll be okay.”

With thanks and more assurances, Maggie dropped off Rebecca at her house. Rebecca took a quick shower, then fell asleep until the phone woke her up.

Theo. His voice was like a soothing balm. He asked after Ellie, said he’d drop off Charlie, fed and walked, in her backyard sometime this morning, then hung up. But he’d called her, when he could have called Maggie or Ellie directly. He could have just told her to pick up Charlie from his yard.

He cared. And for right now, that was good enough.

eighteen

It was Business Day Eight. Which meant the results of the DNA test might finally be available online. Rebecca had checked yesterday, and the day before. And the day before, but she hadn’t really expected the findings to be posted. Today was the earliest the information packet had said to expect results.

Rebecca brought her laptop to the kitchen and set it on the table next to the vase of sunflowers that Ellie had brought her yesterday as a thank-you. She stared at the little boxes into which she was supposed to type her name and password.
Just do it
, she told herself. But she couldn’t. Now that the results
could
pop up, she was overtaken by fear. What if Joy wasn’t her sister? What if?

Which meant it was a perfect time to take Charlie for a walk or scrub the spotless white enamel of the sink again. She chose Charlie. And after an hour-long walk off the beaten path, she was back. And there was her computer.

She hadn’t really thought much about the what-ifs because she did believe, heart, mind, and soul, that Joy Jayhawk was
her half sister. But the shadow of a doubt did exist, and shadows were creepy things. And now, for the first time, the shadow was scaring her.

She took a deep breath, feeling exactly as she had the day she’d typed Joy’s name into the Google search engine and then deleted it five times. This time, though, Charlotte wasn’t here to take over.

Okay.
Just do it!
she yelled at herself. And so she logged on, entered the password, and then held her breath and closed her eyes.

She opened them to see a jumble of words:
half siblingship DNA testing … genetic link strongly supported—conclusive …

Rebecca jumped up. “Thank you, universe!”

She printed out the page and drove over to Joy’s house and knocked on the door. “Please be home,” she said to the door.

No answer.

She rang the bell again. And again.

The door opened, and there was Joy, her hair in a ponytail, her feet in the same red fringed clogs she’d worn the first day Rebecca had seen her.

“You’re my sister,” Rebecca said, clutching the printout.

Joy stared at her, then grabbed the paper and scanned it. Her hand flew to her mouth. “It’s so … official,” she said. “Right there in black and white.”

“I never had any doubt. You
feel
like my sister, Joy.”

“It doesn’t really change anything, though. I’ve always known who my father was. I really didn’t need a test to confirm it.”

God, she was tough.

“But doesn’t it make it just a tiny bit more real?” Rebecca asked.

All of a sudden, Rex in his Superman cape came barreling over and snaked around Joy’s legs. “Hi, Becsa! Read me story?”

Joy bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment, and Rebecca knew she had her. The wall already had a big crack in it and now it was starting to crumble.

“Honey, I don’t know if Rebecca is able to stay for a story,” Joy said to Rex.

“I can stay for a little while. If it’s okay with your mom,” Rebecca said, her eyes on Joy.

Rex grabbed Rebecca’s hand and tugged. “Come on! I want to show you what I made in school today. It’s pipe wieners.”

Rebecca laughed, and Joy stepped aside, her expression tight. But still, she’d let Rebecca
in
.

At six o’clock that night, Rebecca arrived at Joy’s bearing a loaf of Portuguese bread. After Rebecca had left that morning, after only twenty minutes—Joy had interrupted the building of a tower of blocks by insisting it was Rex’s naptime—Joy had invited Rebecca over for dinner “to talk.” It was a start.

Rebecca wanted to bring wine, but she wasn’t so sure if Joy would think of the results as a cause for celebration or an “It is what it is.” Yet when she followed Joy into the kitchen, there was a bottle of white wine and two glasses on the table.

Joy poured, then held up her glass. “To learning how to be sisters.”

Rebecca’s heart flip-flopped. She held up her glass, and they clinked. “I will drink to that.”

Joy grinned. “I might have to drink the whole bottle to that.
Like I said, it’s not like I needed anything confirmed. I always knew you were my half sister. I just couldn’t deal with it, with what it meant. What it means.”

“What does it mean to you?” Rebecca asked.

Joy took a sip of her wine. “It means I have to finally deal with the fact that my biological father turned his back on me, didn’t want me, wasn’t interested in me. My mother used to tell me that, impossible as it seemed, I shouldn’t take it personally because it wasn’t about me at all—it was about him. But how’s a kid supposed to do that?”

Rebecca nodded. “I’ve thought about that a lot since my father told me about you.”

“And then—
wham!
—one day you show up with the news that he’s dead and that you’re my sister, and everyone’s expecting me to welcome you into my life with open arms. No.”

Rebecca ripped off a piece of the crusty bread. “I completely get that. I guess I had this fantasy fairy tale in mind that you would.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” she said, then laughed. “You do try hard, don’t you, Rebecca?”

She smiled. “Guess so.”

“My son sure likes you.”

“That goes back double for me.”

Joy let out a deep breath and leaned back, her blond hair falling over the edge of the straight-backed chair. “So I have a sister. Huh.”

“And we have, what, the next seventy years to figure all this out.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. That was a lot of pressure.

But Joy just smiled. They were family. And not just because the results said so. Because
they
said so. Because Joy was
finally
saying so.

Over Pasta Primavera and Rebecca’s Portuguese bread, Joy said, “I still don’t feel comfortable taking the money, but I will. What a hardship, right? To save my marriage, I have to accept over half a million dollars.” She shook her head. “It’s so crazy. I can’t even believe this has become my biggest problem—a fortune dropping into my lap.”

“I’m relieved you’ve made peace with it,” Rebecca said.

“I do think Harry’s right—the money is symbolic of my accepting what is and getting over it.” She bit her lip and glanced at Rebecca. “And I want you to know that I’m glad you stuck around, stuck it out. Stuck
me
out. I know I’m not the easiest person to get to know. A teacher actually wrote that on my second-grade report card: ‘Joy isn’t very easy to get to know, but once she opens up, I’m sure her personality will shine.’ She was always pissed at me because I never brought in anything for show-and-tell. Some people just don’t want to bring something from home and tell twenty blank faces all about it, you know?”

Rebecca laughed. It was one of the first personal things Joy had said about herself. “I have one of those report card zingers, too.”

Joy glanced at Rebecca for a moment. “So, I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed kind of down lately. Man trouble?”

Rebecca almost burst into tears—at the sisterliness and at the thought of Theo. “Theo broke up with me because I was still with Michael, and I broke up with Michael because we
don’t belong together anymore, but I don’t know if I messed up too much with Theo. I miss him so much, but I don’t know if he’ll take me back now.”

Joy topped off Rebecca’s wine, and it was as good as Ben & Jerry’s and a box of tissues. Better, actually. “Why don’t you go find out? You’re good at not giving up, remember?”

Rebecca laughed. “I am, aren’t I.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Joy said. “I have something for you.” She pulled out a brochure for the University of Southern Maine. “I took Rex to one of the kiddie shows at the planetarium in Portland today, and since it’s right on the USM campus, I stopped in the admissions office to ask for brochures on counseling programs for you. Did you know they have several types of programs? You could become a therapist, a marriage counselor, anything you want. You should look into it.”

Rebecca couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so touched. And not just because Joy had thought of her, but because she was very clearly telling her that she should continue to stick around these parts. “Thank you.”

“This seems the kind of thing a sister would do, right?” Joy asked.

“It does,” Rebecca said, feeling like she might cry.

By the time Harry and Rex came home, Joy and Rebecca were marveling at how they had absolutely nothing in common (except for certain foods, like pizza and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches) and would have to just come up with things neither had done so they could discover
together whether or not they liked them. Like fishing. And knitting.

“Mommy!” Rex said, flinging himself at Joy. She scooped him up into a hug, and he stared at Rebecca, his tiny dimples popping. “And hi, Becca!”