Sisters

Chapter 9

Their mother's burial on Wednesday was the last painful ritual the Adams family had to endure. And as Sabrina had asked him to do, the priest kept it short and sweet. Her mother's ashes were in a large handsome mahogany box. None of them liked to think about her having disappeared out of their lives and being reduced to something so seemingly insignificant and small. Her impact on them had been huge for all of their lives. Now they were leaving her here, to be buried at a cemetery with strangers, in the family plot.

They didn't wait to see the box lowered into the ground. Sabrina and Tammy had agreed at the funeral parlor that no one could have tolerated the agony of it, and when they checked with him, their father had agreed.

The priest made a point of saying during the brief ceremony that they had something to celebrate now, the survival and hopefully full recovery soon of their daughter and sister Anne, who had been spared the same fate as her mother during the accident on the Fourth of July. The priest had no idea that Annie was now blind, nor did anyone else. People would become aware of it gradually later when they saw her, but the family was keeping it quiet for now. It still felt like a very private, painful thing, for them, and above all for Annie herself, once she found out. They had no idea when they were going to tell her, and wanted to discuss it with her doctors first. Sabrina was afraid of telling her too soon, and having her get severely depressed, on the heels of their mother's death, but she knew they couldn't wait too long, and her bandages from the surgery were due to come off by the end of the week. There would be no way of keeping it from her then. And their father still insisted the diagnosis they'd made was wrong. It was inconceivable to him that one of his beautiful daughters was now blind. In the past five days everything had gone so wrong. Their family, which had never been touched by tragedy before, had been dealt a double blow, which had staggered them all.

As each of her daughters left her mother's graveside, she dropped a long-stemmed white rose next to the wooden box that contained her ashes, sitting on a stand. Their father felt each gesture like a blow. He stood alone next to the graveside for a long time, and his daughters respectfully left him there, and then finally Sabrina walked back to him, and tucked her hand into his arm.

“Come on, Daddy, let's go home.”

“I can't just leave her here like this, Sabrina,” he said as tears rolled down his cheeks. “How could this happen? We all loved her so much.”

“Yes, we did,” his daughter said, brushing away tears of her own. They were all dressed in somber black, and looked elegant and dignified. They had always been a beautiful family, and now, even without her, they still were. People who saw them were always struck by how handsome they were. And Jane had been Jim's bright, shining star. He couldn't bring himself to believe that she was gone. “Maybe it's better like this,” Sabrina said softly, as he continued to stand there, staring at the box where her ashes were. “Now she'll never get sick or old. She didn't suffer. She lived to see all her children grow up. You'll always remember her still beautiful and young.” She had hardly ever changed. Her beauty was timeless, and she exuded warmth, energy, and youth. She had been a dazzling woman right till the end. They would always think of her that way. Their mother had had enormous grace. He nodded at what his daughter had just said, without saying a word in response. He took one of the long-stemmed white roses and laid it on top of the box with the others, and then he took a second one, held it in his hand, and walked away with his head down. The past few days had been the hardest of his life, as his children knew only too well. He looked as though he had aged a decade in five days.

Her father got into the limousine without comment and sat next to Sabrina. He sat staring out the window on the way home. Tammy was in the car with them as well. Chris and Candy were riding in the second limousine. They had kept the interment private, and all three daughters were relieved that the painful rituals associated with their mother's passing had come to an end. It had been a rigorous three days, between visitation, funeral, hundreds of guests at the house afterward, and now this last poignant event, leaving her in the place of her final rest. They had talked about keeping her ashes at home, but Sabrina and Tammy had decided that it would be too hard for them, and especially for their father. It was better to leave the discreet wooden box at the cemetery. Sabrina had a sense that her mother would have preferred it that way. Since she had left no directions about funeral arrangements, they had had to guess all along the way, and they had consulted their father about each minute detail. He just wanted the nightmare to end, and for her to come back to them. Sabrina had a strong sense that the reality of it hadn't sunk in yet for any of them. She had been gone for only these few days, as though she had gone away for the long weekend and might still return.

Sabrina knew they had to concentrate on Annie now, her full recovery from the brain surgery, and her adjustment to a whole new, challenging life now that she was blind. They hadn't even begun to travel that road with her yet, and she was fully expecting the transition from artist to woman who no longer had sight to take a long time. This was no small cross for her to bear.

Her father said when they got back to the house that he needed to go to the bank that afternoon. Sabrina offered to take him, but he said he wanted to go on his own. Like the others, she was trying to be there to support him, when he wanted, and to give him space when he seemed to want to be alone. Like all of them, his spirits went up and down. Sometimes the full weight of the tragedy nearly crushed him, and at other times he felt all right for a few hours, and then fell through a hole in the floor again, suddenly, brutally, with all the force of her loss weighing on him. He felt as though his whole world were upside down, and in many ways it was.

He had told his office not to expect him at all that week and maybe not the following week as well. He wanted to wait to see how he felt. He had been a personal investment adviser for all of his career, and his clients would be sympathetic about his absence after the death of his wife. The most important ones had been notified, and many of them had sent flowers.

The family was going to be together till the end of the week, and then Tammy was going back to California, Chris was going back to work, and eventually their father would too. Sabrina thought it would be good for him, but some of the others didn't agree. He looked tired and worn and frail, and had already lost several pounds. They were all afraid that the loss of their mother would impact his health, and that he would turn into an old man overnight. He already nearly had. It was frightening to see how shattered he was, how lost without her.

When Sabrina was alone in the library after the burial ceremony, she called the realtor in New York who had found her current apartment, and told her what she was looking for. Three bedrooms, since Tammy had decided not to join them but would stay in California so she could still produce her hit show. Sabrina told the realtor she wanted a bright, sunny apartment, preferably on one floor, with three good-sized bedrooms, three separate bathrooms, a good-sized living room, a dining room if possible, and maybe even a small den, although that was optional. They wanted a building with a doorman and some kind of security, since Candy came in at all hours, and Annie would need help when she came and went from the building, and she and Candy wouldn't always be there to help, if they went out, or were at work. They wanted the Upper East Side more than they wanted SoHo, Tribeca, or Chelsea. Sabrina was happier uptown, and Candy insisted she didn't care where she lived as long as she was with them. She had a gorgeous penthouse apartment she was planning to rent. Its beauty and views had done nothing for her. She had never bothered to decorate it, or put the finishing touches on it. She was out of town too much to really care. Like Sabrina, she was interested in their safety, and a sense of protection when she came home at night. The others didn't go out as much as Candy did, they led more sedentary lives.

“That's a tall order,” the realtor told her honestly, “unless I find you some kind of fluke, like someone renting their co-op for a year.” Sabrina had said they didn't care about terraces or views. And a cozy apartment in an old building would suit them too. The main thing was that they could live together, and provide an environment where Annie could flourish and feel comfortable, and above all safe, while she learned to handle the challenges of her new life. Sabrina was also hoping they'd find a place with a decent kitchen where they could cook. And hopefully, thanks to Sabrina, Chris would come often and whip something up for them to eat. He was very nearly a gourmet cook. Sabrina wanted to learn from him, but she never had time, and some of the time she skipped meals. From the look of her and what they'd seen her not eat in the past several days, Candy ate none at all. Tammy was somewhere in between, concerned about her weight but not obsessed by it. And Sabrina alternated real meals with salads, to compensate for it when she indulged, which wasn't too often.

The realtor promised to call her back as soon as she had something to show her. Sabrina knew they might not find it right away, and she was open to renting a brownstone too, but she didn't want to start with that because they were so often more expensive. She had explained their plan to her father on the way home from the cemetery, and he smiled as she talked about it.

“That's going to be so good for you. Just like the old days, when you girls all lived together at home. I can just imagine the mischief the three of you will get into. What about Chris in all this, Sabrina? Living with that many women could be challenging for any man. Even your dogs are females, and your friends of course.” Sabrina said Chris was used to it by now. Wherever she lived, particularly with her sisters, was always chaotic to visit and even more so to stay there. They loved the lively atmosphere they created among them, and Chris seemed to adjust to it well.

In any case, the realtor had their requirements, and she didn't think it would be an impossible task to find something. Of course it made it more challenging that Sabrina told her they needed it soon. Annie would be out of the hospital in a few weeks, and Sabrina wanted to get them all moved in. She'd have to give notice on her own apartment, and Candy was planning to rent out her penthouse once they found something. If need be, she could pay rent at the apartment she planned to occupy with her sisters, and pay maintenance on her penthouse at the same time, since she owned it. She made such staggering amounts of money from her modeling that she could afford luxuries the others couldn't, even though she was the youngest of the group. Even Tammy, with her big Hollywood job as a producer, didn't make the kind of money Candy did. Candy readily admitted herself that the fees supermodels raked in were insane, and she was more in demand than ever.

Their father had said on the way home from the cemetery that he would pay Annie's share of the rent, and even a little more if it helped them. He was willing to pay as much as half, because he thought their project to help their injured sister was noble of them, although he still refused to believe that she would be permanently blind. He now said that maybe her vision would come back one day. The blow of her new reality was just too much for him to endure. Sabrina knew he would have to come to believe it over time. But losing his wife, nearly losing his daughter, and her becoming permanently blind were almost too great a shock for him to bear. His mind refused to take it all in, or believe what had happened in the past five days. It was barely easier for his daughters to understand. And Annie knew nothing about any of it yet.

Tammy and Chris made sandwiches when they got back. People had been dropping food baskets off to them, and there was a wide assortment of delicacies, snacks, and cooked meals crowded into the kitchen. It looked like Christmas, when friends and their father's clients sent baskets of gourmet treats and wine. But this was by no means Christmas. In fact, Sabrina was already dreading the holidays now that her mother was gone. They would be agonizing for all of them this year. She knew that their mother's absence would be felt even more acutely then, by all.

Their father went to the bank when the girls went to visit their sister that afternoon. Chris had offered to drive him. He was so distracted at the moment that his daughters didn't want him to drive. None of them wanted another accident to happen, like the one that had happened over the holiday weekend, although they all agreed it had been a freak thing. Chris was startled to notice, when Jim came out to the car, that he was carrying a tote bag and a small valise. Chris had no idea what he was doing, but he seemed very intent, and said little to Chris as they drove to the bank, which was unusual for him.

When Tammy, Candy, and Sabrina got to the hospital, Annie was sleeping. They sat quietly in her room for a while, and waited for her to wake up. The nurse said she was having a nap, but was in fairly decent spirits that day. Her sisters knew she wouldn't be for long. By the end of the week, reality would have hit. Like a tsunami.

She woke up finally as they sat whispering close by her. She could feel Tammy sitting near her bed. She was developing a sixth sense for people's movements with the heavy bandages over her eyes. Her hearing seemed much more acute, and she correctly guessed which of her sisters was standing closest to her almost every time.

“Hi, Tammy,” she said, as her next-oldest sister smiled and kissed her cheek. The two sisters exchanged a smile, even though Annie couldn't see her.

“How did you know?” Tammy looked surprised.

“I could smell your perfume. And Sabrina's over there.” She pointed to where Sabrina was standing.

“Now that's weird,” her oldest sister commented. “I'm not wearing perfume. I forgot mine in the city.”

“I don't know,” Annie said, yawning. “I just feel you guys, I guess. And Candy's lying across the foot of my bed.” They all laughed at what she said-she had been entirely accurate. “Where's Mom?” she asked, as she had yesterday. She sounded both casual and concerned about it.

“Dad had to go to the bank,” Tammy said, hoping to distract her. She made it sound as though their mother had gone with him, without actually lying to her.

“What did he go to the bank for? Why isn't he at work? What day is this, by the way?” She had been unconscious for days, until the day before.

“It's Wednesday,” Sabrina answered. “Dad took the week off.”

“He did? He never does that.” Annie frowned as she thought about what they'd said. All three girls exchanged a worried look. “You guys are lying to me, aren't you?” she said sadly. “Mom must have gotten hurt, or she'd be here by now. She'd never go with Dad, if she knew I was sick. What happened?” Annie asked them pointedly. “How bad is it?” There was silence in the room for long minutes. They hadn't wanted to tell her about their shocking loss this soon, but she wasn't giving them much slack. She never did. Annie was someone who wanted answers to her questions and to tie up loose ends. She hated it when things were messy in any way. And despite her artistic background, she was meticulous, precise, and direct. “What happened to Mom, you guys? Where is she?” None of them knew what to say, and were afraid to give her too big a shock. “Come on, you're freaking me out.” She started to look extremely anxious, and so did they. It was agonizing, and they hated to tell her now, when she was just beginning to recover herself.

“It was pretty bad, Annie,” Tammy finally said softly, as she approached the bed, so she could stand near her. Instinctively, they all did. And Candy reached across the bed and took her hand. “It was a very ugly accident. There were three cars and a truck.”

“I remember when Mom lost control of the wheel. I looked over and tried to grab it before she went into the oncoming traffic, but when I looked, she was out of the car. I don't know where she went.” Across the lanes into oncoming traffic, but the highway patrol had said that by then she was already dead. She had died on impact, when the steel pipes shot out of the truck and hit her. They had nearly taken off her head, and had missed Annie by only a hair. “I don't remember anything after that though,” she said softly.

“You were trapped in the car, and you got a nasty bump on the head. It took them half an hour to get you out. Thank God they did in time,” Sabrina added to what Tammy had said. They were a tightly knit group that often spoke with one mind, one voice. Their mother had loved calling them the four-headed monster when they were growing up. If you spoke to one, or crossed one, you dealt with all four. And God help you if they felt you had been unjust to one or more. Nothing much had changed. They were just older and calmer, and got worked up less often, but they still stuck together and had similar views about many things, and were quick to defend each other.

“You still haven't told me where Mom is.” They knew that there was no way they were going to be able to avoid her question. She was too insistent, and too wide awake. It was hard to put her off.

“Is she in another room nearby?” Tammy looked at Sabrina and shook her head. They all approached the bed, and each one of them was touching her, her hand, her arm, her face. She could feel them all around her, and their presence was both comforting and ominous. She could sense that something terrible had happened. Her senses were as acute as ever, and her brain was working fine, much to everyone's relief, although in this case it made her harder to ignore.

“She didn't make it, Annie,” Tammy said softly, since she was the closest. “It all happened too fast, and too much happened. She was hit by the steel pipes. She was killed instantly.” Annie gasped. She opened her mouth in terror but no sound came out. And then she began flailing wildly, trying to touch them, and clutched hard at their hands. All three of them were crying again as they watched her, and so was she. They could see their own shock and pain mirrored in hers. But they had had four days to get used to it. To Annie it was raw and fresh.

“Mom died?” she said in a terrified whisper. She would have liked to look at them, and hated the bandages that kept her from it. The doctor said they had to stay on for a few more days. They were taking them off a week early as it was. But this was terrible not being able to see her sisters' faces or eyes if they had lost their mother. She wanted her bandages off, but tugging and clawing at them did nothing. She had already tried, to no avail.

“Yes, she did,” Sabrina answered her awful question. “I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry you had to go through all this.”

“Oh God, that's so awful,” she said as tears slid into the bandages from her eyes, and she could feel them burn, even though her eyes were covered. It just made it worse. She sat and cried for a long time while they held her, like three guardian angels taking care of her. But the sweetest angel of all was gone. Annie just couldn't understand it or absorb it any more than they could. It was the worst thing Annie had ever heard, and the same for her sisters, even after four days. None of them was feeling philosophical about it, although they tried to make their father think they were. “How's Dad doing?” Annie asked finally, worried about him too.

“Not good,” Candy volunteered, “but we're not so great either. I keep falling apart. Sabrina and Tammy took care of everything. They've been so great.” Candy filled her in. Annie had missed so much of what had happened. Everything in fact.

“Did I miss the funeral?” she asked, sounding shocked. She didn't really want to be there, but she felt mildly left out now, knowing that she hadn't. But there had been no other choice. They didn't know when she'd wake up, and they couldn't wait. It would have been too hard for their father, and even for them. They needed to get the agonizing formalities behind them, even without Annie.

“It was yesterday,” Sabrina said. Annie couldn't believe it. Their mother was dead. She couldn't get her mind around the words or the concept. It hadn't been easy for them either. They were still having trouble adjusting, and so would she. Their mother was just too strong a loving presence for them to be able to understand her sudden death, or even able to cope with the aftermath, which so far had been very well handled, by her sisters above all.

“Poor Dad… poor us… poor Mom,” Annie wailed in agony. “What a terrible thing to happen.” It was, even more than she knew. Now it was poor her, even more than their mom. She had lived her life, had died too young, but had lived fully and joyously till the end. It was Annie who was going to have such enormous challenges to meet now, whose suddenly limited life was going to be so hard, who would never again be able to see a painting, or create one, when all her life she had lived for art. It was Annie who had been cheated out of her sight and was still so young. Their hearts ached for her, as much as for their mother.

They stayed with Annie for a long time that afternoon. They didn't want to leave her alone after they had told her the news about their mom. Sometimes they talked about it, sometimes they just sat in silence and held hands, sometimes they cried together, or laughed through their tears at a story one of them remembered and the others had forgotten. As close as they had been before, losing their mother had created an even stronger bond. They were four very different young women with a powerful love for each other and deep respect, which had been a gift to them above all from their mother, but from their father as well. They clung to him and each other, as the remaining powerful symbols of their damaged world.

It was seven o'clock when they finally left the hospital. Annie was exhausted, and so were they. They drove back to the house, talking about her, and found Chris chatting quietly with their dad. He said that at least a dozen people had come by, to check on them and pay their respects. It was such a strange time for all of them. Their mother had left such a huge hole in their lives, and their community, where for years she had been so loved and admired, as a wife, mother, friend, human being, and hard worker at many charities. She had been so much more to so many than just their mother or Jim's wife.

Tammy suggested they order Chinese takeout or sushi so Chris didn't have to cook again, but their father said he had something he wanted to do with them first. He looked sorrowful and shaken, as he had since Saturday, but determined. He asked them to follow him into the dining room. Chris knew what was happening, and hung back, not wanting to intrude. This was between them, a private moment in their family. It had startled him when Jim had told him what he was doing, after they went to the bank that afternoon. It seemed soon to him, but the older man had pointed out that it would be months before all his daughters would be home again at the same time. And he knew that this was what his wife would have wanted. It was early, but it was time. She had been generous with her husband, daughters, and friends all her life.

As the girls followed their father into the dining room, they were shocked at what they saw there. They hadn't been prepared for this, and he hadn't warned them. Tammy gave a little gasp of pain and took a step back. Sabrina covered her eyes for a moment with her hand. And Candy just stood there and started to cry.

“Oh Dad…” was all Tammy could say. She didn't want to face this yet. It hurt just looking at the familiar pieces, but it was now one of her many gifts to them, with their father's grace.

He had laid out all of her jewelry on the dining room table, in neat rows, the familiar rings and bracelets and earrings she had worn, the string of pearls from her own mother, the gifts he had given her over the years, for important birthdays, Christmas, major events, like their births. With his success in business, the gifts had grown over the years. They weren't important jewels, like some of what Tammy had seen in Hollywood, or Candy wore in fashion layouts for Vogue, or ads for Tiffany or Cartier. But they were lovely pieces that her mother had worn and loved. Each piece on the dining room table would remind them of their mother each time they wore them, although it felt a little like stealing them from her, raiding her jewel box while she was out, and having to explain it to her when she got back. They all still wanted to believe that she was coming back. Laying her jewelry out as he had was a way of acknowledging that she was gone forever, and they had to step into the world as adults now, with nothing to buffer them from what life had in store for them, good or bad. Suddenly, no matter what age they were, they were adults. They no longer had a mom. It felt much too grown-up.

“Dad, are you sure?” Sabrina asked with wide eyes full of tears. Tammy was crying softly too. This was hard.

“Yes, I am. I didn't want to wait till Thanksgiving when you'll all be home again. Annie isn't here, but she can't pick the pieces now anyway, and you know what she likes. You can pick for her, or make exchanges later if you want. I want you to take turns, one by one. Each of you pick something, then the next one takes a turn, by order of age, one turn each, until you divide it all up. Mom wanted you to have it. There's some very pretty stuff there. It belongs to you,” he said quietly, and then walked out of the room, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He was leaving it up to them, knowing they'd be fair. In addition, he had taken out her four fur coats, two minks, a fox, and a beautiful lynx he had bought her the Christmas before. Each one was draped across a dining room chair. It was a lot to absorb.

“Wow,” Sabrina said, sitting down on a dining room chair, and staring at what was on the table. “Where do we start?”

“You heard Dad,” Tammy said somberly. “By order of age. That means you, then me, Annie, Candy. Who'll pick for Annie?”

“We all can. We know what she likes.” She wore very little jewelry, and had very eclectic arty tastes, mostly silver bangles and a lot of turquoise. Her mother had more serious pieces than that, but there were some that would look well on Annie, if she wanted to appear more grown up. And even if she never wore it, it was a memory of their mother, and nice to have. They each knew the piece she had gotten when they were born. A narrow sapphire bracelet for Sabrina, a ruby band ring for Tammy, a pearl necklace for Annie, and a beautiful diamond bracelet for Candy, who had come along thirteen years after Sabrina, in more prosperous times. As they stood at the dining room table, they chose those items first. And then began to loosen up. They put the first items on. The ruby band was exactly the right size for Tammy, and she swore she'd never take it off. She was exactly her mother's size.

One by one, they began to choose items that they remembered so well. There were a few pieces of their grandmother's, which were outdated but pretty. They had the look of the forties, some big topaz pieces, some aquamarines, and a beautiful cameo they chose for Annie, because she could feel it and they agreed that the face on the brooch looked like her. It wouldn't have surprised their mother, or their father, that they were extremely respectful of each other. When one of them loved an item, the others immediately backed off and urged her to take it. There were a few pieces that looked like none of them, but they chose them out of sentiment. There was a handsome sapphire brooch their father had given her for her fiftieth birthday, which they all said Sabrina should have and she took. There were beautiful diamond earrings that looked great on Tammy, and some long diamond and pearl drop earrings she had worn when she was young, which were perfect for Candy, as well as a gorgeous diamond bangle that they all thought Annie should have, and set aside for her. They were lovely things, and halfway through they began to look less sad, and smiled and laughed with each other as they put them on, and commented on how they looked. It was bittersweet, both happy and sad.

They wound up with exactly the same number of pieces. Each of them had two or three fairly important items, and a number of others that were of less value but meant a lot to them, and they were satisfied with what they'd picked for Annie, and more than willing to make trades if she didn't like what they described. It was all a little more grown up than they were used to wearing, but they agreed that they'd grow into it over time, and even wear it now, to remind them of their mother. There was something very tender and moving about having her jewelry now. And when they had finished dividing it up, they tried on the furs. They worked out perfectly too.

They all agreed that the fox coat looked like Annie. It was almost the same color as her chestnut hair, it was full and long, it would undoubtedly fit her, and she could wear it with jeans. There was a black mink coat that looked gorgeous on Sabrina and fit her since the style was loose and her mother wore her fur coats a little on the long side. Sabrina looked very elegant in the coat. And the rich brown mink looked spectacular on Tammy, who said she would wear it to the Emmys next year. It was very chic. And the three-quarter lynx was pure Candy. She put it on and looked fabulous in it. She was so thin that it fit, and the length looked great with her long legs. The sleeves were a little short, but she said she liked it that way. Her mother had worn it only once, and all four of the coats were in great shape and seldom worn. She only wore them when they went to dinner in the city, or some major event. Their mother had had a penchant for fur, and had indulged it only in recent years. She had had a Persian lamb coat of her grandmother's from the thirties that she had worn when she was young, but it was long gone. These coats were almost brand-new, very stylish, and looked fabulous on them. They all set the coats down respectfully when they had chosen, and went back to the den to thank their dad.

He saw them walk into the room with smiling faces, and they each kissed him and told him how much it meant to them to have their mother's things. He had kept her wedding ring and engagement ring, which had a very small stone, and put them in a little box on his desk, where he could see them whenever he wanted. He couldn't have parted with them.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Candy said, sitting down next to him, and holding his hand.

They were well aware of how hard it must have been for him to lay her things out and give them away so soon, and what a loving gesture it had been. “You can go through her other things later and see if there's anything you want.” She had had some beautiful handbags, and some lovely clothes, which only Tammy could have worn since she was so small. But there was no rush for that. The jewelry had seemed important to him, as they needed to be together to do it, and he didn't want to wait five months, when they came back for Thanksgiving. It had shaken them to see her things at first, and to help themselves to them, but it had been done in an orderly, loving way. They had been as respectful to each other as they had been to their mother. It was typical of them, and what she had taught them as they grew up, to love each other, with kindness, generosity, and compassion. They had learned the lesson well.

Their father and Chris had ordered dinner while the sisters were looking at the jewelry. They had ordered curry from a nearby Indian restaurant, and it was very good. They chatted over dinner, and for a moment life almost seemed normal as they talked and laughed and teased each other. It was hard to believe they had just divided up their mother's jewelry, buried her that afternoon, and had a funeral for her yesterday. It was all so surreal.

As they cleaned up the kitchen, Tammy realized how much she was going to miss her sisters when she went back to L.A. Despite the sad occasion, she loved being with them. This was where she was happiest, in their midst. And whenever she was with her family, her life in California seemed so distant and without meaning. This was what mattered most to her. It was hard to compare the two worlds, and yet that was where she lived and worked, and what seemed so important when she was there, especially the show she had helped to create and which was so precious to her. But it was nothing compared to all this. She looked at her sisters as they left the kitchen, and Sabrina put an arm around her, and gave her a hug.

“We're going to miss you when you go back. I always do.”

“Me too,” Tammy said sadly. Her life there seemed so empty, without her sisters. Here they shared family meals, she could talk to them at any hour of the day, and their father looked over them benevolently. It reminded her of their childhood, which she thought had been perfect in every way, and so rare. And nothing had changed, except that they all lived all over the world. Or they had-now they'd all be living together, when Annie got out of the hospital, and she'd be living three thousand miles away. But there was no other way. She couldn't give up what she had there. It would have destroyed the career she had worked so hard to build. It was a tough choice for her to make.

The three dogs followed each other out of the kitchen, as the sisters went upstairs. It appeared to be a temporary truce of sorts, but Beulah and Juanita had become best friends in the past few days. Candy's Yorkie Zoe never left her side, or was always sitting on her lap. Juanita and Beulah had taken to sleeping together, and the chihuahua nipped playfully at Beulah's long silky ears. They had even chased a rabbit together in the backyard. They made everybody laugh. Zoe was the most elegant of the trio with a rhinestone collar and pink bows. Juanita was the fiercest, and Chris commented that Beulah hadn't looked depressed since they arrived. He said she needed siblings and clearly didn't like being an only child. Candy promised to send rhinestone collars for the others, which made Chris roll his eyes.

“She's a hunting dog, Candy, not a supermodel.”

“You need to give her a little style,” Candy said with a grin. “That's probably why she's been depressed.” Her old leather collar was faded and worn, and as they said it, the basset looked up and wagged her tail. “See, she knows what I mean. I have a fabulous woman who makes Zoe clothes in Paris. I'll measure Beulah before we leave and get her some stuff.”

“Now I'm getting depressed. You're corrupting our dog,” Chris said firmly. Beulah was the only thing that he and Sabrina officially shared. They had their own apartments, never commingled money, and were careful to keep things separate. As attorneys, they knew the mess it could make otherwise, if they ever broke up. But Beulah was the child they shared. Sabrina always laughed and said they'd need a joint custody agreement for her if they ever split up. Chris had a better idea and would have preferred getting married, if nothing else to protect the dog, he liked to tease her. But marriage just hadn't been in the cards for her so far, and wouldn't be for a while.

“Why not?” Tammy asked her the next day, as they were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. Everyone else had gone out. Their father and Chris were doing errands, and Candy was checking out a new gym nearby. She said she was falling apart not doing her Pilates for the last week, and she said she was gaining weight, which seemed like good news to all of them. She said her body was turning to mush, or it felt that way to her. Hard to believe at twenty-one.

“I don't know,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “I just can't see myself getting married. I hear such bad stories all day, about how people screw each other over, cheat, used to love each other and messed it all up when they got married. It doesn't make it very appealing, no matter how nice a guy Chris is. They all are in the beginning, and then everything gets fucked up.”

“Look at Mom and Dad,” Tammy pointed out. They were her role models for the perfect marriage. She still wanted one of those, if she ever found a man like their dad. The ones she met in L.A., particularly in show business, were all crazy, players, narcissists, or generally bad guys. She seemed to meet them all. She said she was a magnet for nuts and shits, mostly nuts.

“Yeah, look at Mom and Dad,” Sabrina said, looking glum. “They were perfect together. How could we ever find something like that? It only happens once. Mom used to say that too. She always said how lucky they were. I'm not sure I'd have the same luck, and if I didn't, I'd feel cheated, I don't want anything less. They set the bar pretty high.”

“I think Chris comes pretty close. You found a good one. That's not easy to do. Besides, Mom and Dad worked at it. It didn't just happen. They used to fight when we were kids.”

“Not often. And usually about something we did, that they didn't agree on. Like when I sneaked out at night during the week. Dad thought she should say something and let it go at that. Mom put me on restriction for three weeks. She was a lot tougher than he was.”

“Maybe that's why they got along. But I can't remember them ever having serious fights. Maybe once, when he got drunk on New Year's Eve. I don't think she talked to him for a week.” They both laughed at the memory. Even with a little too much to drink, he had been cute. Their mother had said he embarrassed her with their friends. Neither of them had been a heavy drinker, and none of their daughters was, although they drank more than their parents had. Candy partied harder than the others, but she was still young, and moved in a faster crowd, because of her work. None of the others was out of control, and Candy was still within the norm. They knew Annie smoked dope with her artist friends, but she was so serious about her work, she didn't like getting stoned often. She had done more of it when she was in college, but none of them had substance abuse problems, and neither had their parents. They were a pretty wholesome group. Chris drank more than Sabrina did, and liked his vodka when he went out, but he didn't do it to excess. He seemed like the perfect man to Tammy, particularly compared to the freaks she met.

“I think it will be really sad if you and Chris don't get married one day,” she commented as she put their cups in the dishwasher. “You're turning thirty-five in September. If you want kids, you shouldn't drag your ass forever. Besides, he may get tired of waiting. You don't even live together. I'm surprised he doesn't put the heat on you. He's not getting any younger either.”

“He's only thirty-six. And he does put the heat on me at times. I just tell him I'm not ready. I'm not. I don't know if I'll ever be. I like things the way they are now, and we spend the night together three or four times a week. I like having time off, to myself. I work a lot at night.”

“You're spoiled,” Tammy commented.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Sabrina admitted.

“Let me tell you, if I found a guy like him, I'd nail him to the floor. What if you lose him because you won't get married?” Tammy had wondered about that before. She thought Chris was incredibly patient with her sister, and she knew he wanted kids. Sabrina wasn't sure about that either. She didn't want to lose her children half time to joint custody if she ever got divorced. She had been deeply affected by her work, and the ugly problems she handled for her clients every day.

“I don't know. I guess I'll worry about that when it happens, if it ever does. For now, it works.”

Tammy shook her head in disgust. “Here I am, telling myself I'll go to a sperm bank when I'm your age, if I haven't found the right guy, which I probably won't, and you have the greatest guy on the planet, who wants to get married and have children, and you want to live alone and be single forever. Shit. Life just isn't fair.”

“No, it's not. And don't you dare go to a sperm bank yet, you twit. The right guy will come along.”

“Not in my business. And not in L.A. That's almost a sure thing. You don't know how crazy those guys are. I can't even be bothered dating anymore. If I hear one more bullshit story from some guy who just hasn't met the right woman in the twenty years he's been divorced, while he's cheating on me and dating twenty-year-old starlets, is a vegan, and has to have a high colonic twice a week to keep his head straight, whose politics are to the left of Lenin's, and by the way can I get him a major part in the show…I will throw up, and have. I'd rather TiVo my favorite shows and stay home with Juanita, checking scripts, after I leave the office at ten-thirty, which is what I do most of the time. It's just not worth putting on makeup and high heels for those guys. I really think I will wind up alone. It's better than what's out there.” At twenty-nine, she had almost given up. “I tried computer dating a couple of times last year. They were even worse. One guy took me to dinner, and didn't have enough money to add a tip, and he asked me if he could borrow gas money to get home. The other one admitted he'd been gay all his life, and made a bet with his boyfriend that he could date a woman, just once. I was it. I've had it with the Freaks of the World Club. I'm their oldest member, and I'm way in the lead for number of dates with hopeless geeks.” Sabrina had to laugh at what she said, but knew it was true, for Tammy anyway. She was in a tough spot to meet men. She was successful, powerful in her industry, in a world of narcissists and operators who all wanted something from her and gave nothing back. And yet she was beautiful, smart, successful, and young. It was hard to believe she couldn't meet a decent man, but she hadn't yet. She worked too hard, had almost no spare time, and didn't even try anymore. She spent weekends working, or at home with her dog. “Besides,” she added, “it would be too traumatic for Juanie if I got involved with a guy. She hates men.”

“She loves Chris,” Sabrina added with a smile.

“Everybody loves Chris. Except you,” she scolded, and Sabrina denied it hotly.

“That's not true. I love him, enough to not want to screw up what we've got.”

“Don't be such a chickenshit,” Tammy told her. “He's worth the risk. You'll never find a better guy. Trust me, I've seen the worst. I've dated them all. Chris is a hottie, in every sense of the word. You've landed the big one. Don't ever throw him back. Or I'll beat you up.” Sabrina laughed in response.

“Why don't you move to New York, if the guys out there are so awful?” Sabrina had thought of it before. She knew how lonely her sister's life was in L.A., and she worried about her. She knew their mother had too, for all the same reasons. She used to say that Tammy would never get married if she stayed in L.A., and it was a high priority to her. Their mother thought marriage and family were the best things since sliced bread. But look who she was married to. Their dad.

“I can't move to meet a guy,” Tammy said, looking disgusted. “That's crazy. Besides, I'd starve to death. I can't give up my career, I've been at it for too long and put too much into it to just walk away. I love what I do. I can't give that up. Besides, maybe I wouldn't meet anyone here either. Maybe it's me.”

“It's not you, it's them,” Sabrina assured her. “Your business is full of weird guys.”

“I seem to find them everywhere. I used to meet nuts when I went on vacation too. They're just drawn to me like moths or cockroaches or something. If there is a nutcase in the area, I'll find him, believe me. Or he'll find me.”

“What are we talking about?” Chris asked as he stuck his head in the kitchen door. He and Jim had just gotten back after a long run to the hardware store. Chris had promised to fix some things around the house. They were looking for distractions to keep busy, and as long as he was going to be there for three more days, he thought he might as well help out. He enjoyed that kind of thing.

“We're talking about my nonexistent dating life. I'm the head of the Date-a-Freak Club. The main chapter is in L.A., but I've opened branches in other cities too. It's a very successful thing, huge membership, low dues, lifetime opportunities. You'd be amazed.” All three of them laughed at what she was saying, but her sister knew it was all too true, and so did she. Chris said he always found it hard to believe that Tammy hadn't found a guy. She was gorgeous, smart, and made a hell of a good living. She'd be a plum for any guy. He said they were all fools.

“You'll meet the right one, one of these days,” he assured her.

“I'm not sure I still care,” Tammy said, and shrugged. “What time are we going to see Annie?” she asked, changing the subject.

“After lunch, when Candy gets back from the gym. If she ever does. She exercises too much.”

“I know,” Tammy said with a worried look. They all commented on her weight constantly. At least she ate somewhat more decently when she was at home, but not much. She kept track of her weight, and insisted that her livelihood depended on it. Her sisters reminded her that her health did too. Tammy had warned her that she'd wind up sterile from starving for so many years. It wasn't a high priority for Candy yet. She was much more interested in staying on top in her field, and she certainly had the right look. Being superthin was essential to her.

The three of them went out to the pool then and went for a swim. Afterward their father joined them, and sat chatting with Chris, while the two women talked about Annie, and the adjustment she'd have to make. Sabrina was still excited about her apartment idea, and hoped she'd hear from the realtor soon. It was going to make a big difference to Annie if she could live with them for a year.

“I wish I could do it too,” Tammy said again. “I feel so guilty not moving home for her. But I just can't.”

“I know,” Sabrina said, lying in the sun, glancing over at Chris and her dad. They got along well, and it was nice for her father to have a man around. He had been outnumbered by women for years. Chris was like the son he'd never had. “You can fly in and spend weekends with us when you have time.” Tammy tried to remember the last time she'd spent a weekend when she hadn't worked, and there hadn't been a crisis on the show. It had been at least six months, maybe more. And maybe a year before that.

“I'll try,” she promised, as they both lay in the sun and dozed. They were both thinking the same thing, that if they closed their eyes, in a minute their mother would stand in the kitchen door and call them in for lunch. Maybe she had just disappeared for a few days, or had gone to the city, and would be back soon. It wasn't possible that she was gone. Those things just didn't happen. She was out. Or resting in her room, or visiting a friend. She wasn't gone. Not forever. And Annie wasn't blind. It just couldn't be.