My Sister's Husband

by Marsh, Nicola

  Nine

  Freya

  I hover nearby as Brooke and Hope get acquainted. I could blame my protective maternal instincts but it’s more than that.

  Brooke will leave again and I’m worried I’m making a mistake in letting my daughter get close to someone who will abandon her. I’d resented Brooke when she left and didn’t return. Initially, I understood. She had to get away because I watched her deteriorate after she lost Eli. Consumed by grief, she couldn’t keep food down, lost weight, became pale and listless, a shadow moving through the house. She’d ignored me, when I’d been devastated by his death too. Eli had almost become part of the family; he’d been at our house so often. But Brooke hadn’t seen any of that so when she went away I thought she’d come back better. Instead, she abandoned me.

  A stupid, irrational thought because it wasn’t her fault she had to flee Martino Bay. The kids who’d been her close friends made it unbearable for her to stay. Eli’s death changed everything for her and, in turn, for me too.

  They’d judged me initially when I came back to town after having Hope; a teen mom, father unknown, the sister of that bad girl whose boyfriend committed suicide after she dumped him. I’d hibernated for the first eighteen months, eschewing offers to attend a moms’ group for teens or play dates organized by a social worker. I’d tried it once, with a group of young moms in the park, but I’d felt like an outsider because all those moms had been a bit older than me and had partners. While they boasted about shared parenting duties, I was up most nights tending to a grizzly, teething Hope. As they planned to give their perfect kids more siblings, I could barely cope with one child. I’d hated the pitying stares the most and that had been my first and last foray into bonding with fellow moms.

  Hope had been my focus and nothing else mattered. She got me through the loneliness of losing my sister. For my twenty-first, Aunt Alice had offered to babysit so I could go out and celebrate with my friends. Friends? I didn’t have any. Nobody genuine. A few people from high school used to pop in occasionally but we had nothing in common any more. While I was changing diapers and dealing with colic, they were heading off to LA for spa dates. While I could barely pull on jeans and a T-shirt in the morning, they were buying the latest fashion online to wear for glitzy Saturday night dates. We drifted apart so by the time I hit twenty-one, I had no one to celebrate with bar Aunt Alice and Lizzie, who gave me the best present ever: a day to myself, spent wandering the cliffs, a picnic lunch for one, and the latest blockbuster thriller that I read for an entire afternoon.

  As Hope grew older and Brooke stayed away, townsfolk stopped casting me sly glances. Gradually, I earned their acceptance and respect by raising a polite child, completing a nursing degree, and volunteering for everything I could, more than the other moms combined. I paid my dues, but that didn’t change how much I missed Brooke when she didn’t come home and I fear my daughter will get too attached to a flakey aunt who will probably abscond after the wedding.

  “Wow, you’re good at that,” Brooke says, leaning toward Hope as my daughter sketches.

  Their heads almost touch, my sister’s strawberry-blonde hair a stark contrast against my daughter’s dark brown, but they wear the same matching expression: contentment. It’s the first time I’ve seen Brooke appear relaxed since she got home and I’m glad. It can’t be easy for her.

  “Hey, you two, want some lemonade?”

  They look up simultaneously and once again I’m struck by a faint similarity, more the mannerism than their actual looks. I’m interested to hear what Hope thinks of her aunt later. My child is open and affectionate and happily gravitates toward people. She’s a hit at the nursing home where I work—the oldies love her—and now I can see my sister falling a little in love with her too.

  I should be glad. Brooke has missed out on so much and if she wants a relationship with my daughter I should facilitate it. But my old insecurities are prompting me to wonder if my precious daughter will end up liking her vivacious aunt more than me.

  “Do we get cookies too?” Hope grins and presses her palms together. “Please, Mom?”

  “Sure, honey.” I can never resist my daughter at her charming best. Besides, she knows I won’t say no in front of Brooke. Hope’s smart, knowing when she can twist me around her finger.

  Brooke watches this exchange between us and I can’t help but preen a little at the envy in her eyes. I’m no longer an afterthought in my family; I hold them together and I’m proud.

  “Lemonade okay with you, Brooke?”

  She nods and returns her attention to Hope’s drawings. “Is that a rose?”

  Just like that she has Hope’s attention again and the two of them murmur, their smiles frequent, while I’m left feeling like an outsider. Ridiculous, when it’s natural they’ll bond, but having Brooke back in my life has dredged up old feelings of inadequacy I thought long conquered.

  I busy myself with the snacks and when I place them on the table I get a muted “thanks” before they return to their soft chatter. Biting back a sigh, I say, “I’m popping out to see Riker, be back soon.”

  “Okay, Mom,” Hope says, but she’s still looking at Brooke like a shiny new toy she can’t quite believe has dropped in her lap, while Brooke gives me a casual wave that indicates I won’t be missed at all.

  I leave them with a heavy heart, hating my resentment. I should be glad my daughter openly adores Brooke so quickly—my sister has a knack for making people like her, everyone adored her when we were growing up—but I’m the only one my daughter usually looks at like that. Though oddly, I don’t mind when she treats Riker with blatant adoration. She loves him wholeheartedly and I know it won’t be long before she asks if she can call him dad. Our courtship has been a whirlwind six months and maybe it’s too soon but I’m encouraging their bond because it makes us one big happy family, something I’ve craved my entire life.

  I know where Riker will be, in the barn behind his cottage. He practically lives in that makeshift studio, often forgetting to share meals with us. Though he’s diligent when it comes to Hope and not missing any of her important stuff like helping complete a project for the science fair or preparing for a math test. I never would’ve picked him for a bookworm but he’s devoted to reading with Hope too and it warms my heart to see the two of them together at night, Hope tucked in beneath the covers and Riker sitting on top of them, dissecting the latest chapter of the book she’s reading.

  I’m worrying about nothing. Brooke will never take the place of Riker in Hope’s eyes even if she sticks around, and I’m her mom, Brooke can never surpass me there.

  When I reach the barn and peer around the half-shut door, Riker’s placing his welder back in its case before pushing up his facemask. He’s sweaty, the cotton of his grey T-shirt clinging to his back in patches, rivulets of it dripping down his face. My pulse races as I watch him swipe the sweat away with the back of his hand. The initial passion of our first month together wore off quickly and these days sex is infrequent. I’ve got a lot on my mind with Alice, then inviting Brooke back home. I’ve been worried and that has exacerbated my usual post-work fatigue. Thankfully, Riker doesn’t seem to mind, making me love him all the more.

  On the nights I sneak into his cottage he holds me in his arms and listens to me offload, stroking my hair or cradling me tight, making me feel more connected to him than I ever have. I crave intimacy rather than intercourse and Riker is okay with that.

  I enter the barn and wolf whistle. His head snaps up and for a moment I glimpse annoyance before his usual affable grin lights his face.

  “Hey, gorgeous, what are you doing here?”

  “Interrupting a master at work.” I cross the dirt floor to clasp his face between my hands and kiss him, a long, lingering melding of lips that has him palming my ass and pressing his pelvis against mine.

  “I’m all for interruptions like this,” he murmurs against the corner of my mouth, grinding against me until I moan a little.

 
“The door’s open and anyone can wander in,” I say, hating to be the voice of reason when he releases me and steps away.

  “Tease.” But there’s no venom in his voice and he winks, reaching out to swat my ass. “I’m supposed to be working. Did you need something?”

  “No.” I drift toward his latest creation, a life-size unicorn made from car metal scraps—Hope will go mad for it—and caress the cool metal with my palm. “Brooke’s spending some time getting to know Hope so I wanted to give them space.”

  “That’s great. It’ll be good for Hope to get to know her aunt.” He’s surprisingly animated. “They seem a lot alike in some ways.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The old jealousy flares in an instant. We haven’t discussed how well Riker knows Brooke yet, haven’t had a chance really. Brooke dismissed it as a casual meeting at a party but is there more to it? I can’t bear the thought and I’m instantly on guard, wanting to delve but terrified of the answers.

  “They’re old souls,” he says, oblivious to my inner torment. “Hope’s ten going on thirty and you can see that same worldly expression in Brooke’s eyes.”

  “And exactly how long have you spent staring into my sister’s eyes?” I snap, regretting my outburst when he winces.

  “Whoa.” He holds up his hands. “Where did that come from?”

  “Sorry.” I swipe a hand over my face, knowing I’ll have to give him some semblance of truth to smooth over my faux pas. “You know I’ve been nervous about Brooke’s return, so I guess knowing you two met before has me a little on edge.”

  His expression softens as he approaches me and snags my hands. “We met at a party, once, when we were teenagers. I think we said hi, can’t even remember if we talked, that’s it. I didn’t even know her name, which is why I didn’t make the connection when you’ve talked about her before. And if I had, I would’ve told you.” He squeezes my hands. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m not that kind of guy.”

  He lifts one of my hands to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I’m marrying you. You, Hope and me are going to be a family. That’s all I care about, okay?”

  I nod and slip into his arms, but as he hugs me tight I’m not reassured. In fact, I can’t shake the feeling I’m missing something and welcoming Brooke back into our lives may be the stupidest thing I’ve done in a long time.

  Ten

  Brooke

  I’m in love.

  For the first time in my life I’ve fallen head over heels.

  My niece is perfect.

  I love her and I barely know her.

  Crazy, but the minute we sat down and started sketching together I experienced a weird breathlessness, an expanding in my chest, a feeling of such warmth and completeness I know it has to be love. I’ve never had it before, being so instantly enamored, and I can’t stop marveling at every little thing she does, like dotting her “i’s” with little lopsided hearts, like the way her tongue pokes out when she’s trying hard to draw a particularly difficult unicorn, like the way she wriggles with excitement in her seat when she finishes a drawing.

  She’s utterly adorable and while I love her, I’m also howling on the inside.

  I could’ve had this.

  A child to cherish, to lavish love on, to be with me so I’m not alone.

  Would my son have liked art like I do or would he have preferred smashing a baseball into the outfield or scoring a touchdown? Would he have wanted to sit with me at a table lamenting the lack of real unicorns or would he have deemed me too frivolous and enjoyed sword-fighting with a nameless nemesis online? Would he have leaned against me like Hope is already doing or would he have been too tough to show affection toward his mom?

  Crazy, because I was never keeping him anyway. I’d done the right thing and signed the adoption papers. But I never had the chance to say goodbye. The drugs may have helped with the labor pains but they did nothing for my broken heart when I glimpsed that bluish face wrapped in a bundle before they took him away.

  My baby had died and there’s no coming back from that.

  A sorrow so profound, so overwhelming, makes my head spin and I grip the table.

  “Auntie Brooke, what’s wrong?” Hope snuggles into me instantly and I drag in a breath, another, before I can speak.

  “I’m a bit sad at missing out on spending time with you all these years,” I say, settling for a half-truth as emotion wells in my chest for my baby boy I never got to hold.

  “It’s okay, we’ve got plenty of time now.” She slides her arms around my waist and hugs me tight, and I battle tears that are desperate to fall.

  I hug her back, this openly affectionate child who still seems so innocent for her age yet worldly at the same time, and I know I have to take care not to dump all my long-buried maternal instincts onto her. I’d always been happy in my life growing up, content. I loved Freya, even if her prying eyes and passive-aggressive games got to me at times. But I never resented her, until now.

  She has the one thing I wish I had.

  A happy, healthy child.

  When mine was cruelly ripped from me long ago and it shouldn’t hurt so much now.

  “Did that hug make you feel better?” Hope wriggles out of my embrace and fixes me with a solemn stare. “Riker says hugs make everything better and he’s really smart.”

  Riker, another problem I can’t deal with right now.

  “I do feel better, thanks.” I tap the tip of her nose. “I think you’re pretty smart too, young lady.”

  Hope giggles, a spontaneous happy sound that warms my heart. “I can draw other stuff besides unicorns. Wanna see?”

  “Sure do,” I say, leaning into her as she starts sketching, subtly inhaling the sweet berry fragrance of her shampoo and struggling to quash my grief at losing my boy.

  I need to move on.

  Difficult to do with reminders of a past I’d rather forget around every corner.

  Eleven

  Alice

  THEN

  It’s unbearable.

  Relentless agony grips me as I witness Diana and Cam fall into a whirlwind romance that results in a low-key wedding five months after she returns home, the birth of their first child Brooke six months after that and the arrival of Freya eleven months later.

  My glamorous, spoilt sister should struggle with two kids under one. She doesn’t. She practically glows whenever Cam glances her way and while she gets the baby blues for a while after Freya, she’s soon back to her old confident self with the help of meds and a counselor.

  And I’m around for it all; the loving sister, the perfect sister-in-law, the doting aunt.

  While on the inside I die a little every day.

  Diana didn’t even hesitate to start dating Cam. She acted like it’s her God-given right that he’s hers, from the moment they laid eyes on each other at Mom’s memorial service. I don’t blame Cam. He never led me on or professed any kind of affection beyond friendship. I’d been the one to harbor secret desires that he’d eventually see me as more.

  But I blame her.

  I blame her to the point of wishing she had never come back.

  It’s been less than two years, twenty-two months to be exact, since she returned and stole the life that should’ve been mine.

  It’s hard pretending. Exhausting to the point of me being unable to eat most nights after work and falling into bed, drained and dazed. The fatigue is always worse on the days I have to see her, sitting pretty in Cam’s house while he cooks dinner and kid-wrangles, clearly happy to do it for his adoring wife.

  The resentment is choking me as I stride around the back of their house, shoving aside the memory of doing exactly this years earlier, filled with hope on the night I’d planned to reveal my true feelings to Cam. It feels like another lifetime ago, like I’ve suffered and endured more than the average person since, and I know I’m near breaking point.

  Diana has summoned me tonight, a few weeks since Freya’s birth, about so
me legal issue that can’t wait. I’m sure it’s nothing, something minor that could’ve waited until next week, but when my sister commands my presence I run because there’s always a chance I’ll see Cam.

  I’m pathetic. Unable to date, unable to move on, stuck in some weird limbo where I’m pining for a man I can never have, a man I now have to see way too often because he’s my brother-in-law.

  It’s Diana’s fault. She’s entrapped me in this awful scenario. I’ll do anything to escape.

  She’s sitting on the back porch, sipping an iced tea, as I approach.

  “Hey, Al, want a drink?”

  I shake my head. “What’s up?”

  She glances over her shoulder, before relaxing a tad. “Cam’s putting the girls to bed so we can talk. I wanted to let you know that we did our wills today and if anything happens to us, you’ll be the girls’ legal guardian.”

  I know I should say something at this apparent honor being bestowed upon me but I’m speechless, because in that moment I imagine Diana removed from her happy family scenario and me taking her place.

  “If that’s what you want, sure.” I force a smile. “I’ll love those girls like my own if anything ever happens.”

  Diana beams and raises her glass in a toast. “You’re the best, Sis. I intend to live to a ripe old age and watch my grandchildren grow but when you have kids it pays to be prepared, you know?”

  Actually, I don’t, and at the rate I’m going I never will. The thought of having a husband and kids is so far out of the realms of possibility for me I don’t even think about it most days.

  How can I, when I still obsess over my sister’s husband and the life that should’ve been mine?

  I hear footfalls behind me and brace. I’m always like this around Cam; wanting to see him, wanting to flee, terrified he’ll read every single emotion in my eyes. Diana won’t; she’s too self-absorbed to consider another woman might want her husband and especially not her plain Jane sister.