Denial

by Jackie Kennedy

  There was no doubt Fraser was proud of his daughter. When she told them she wanted to be a doctor, he was delighted. When she volunteered to work in such extreme conditions, he was devastated.

  Fraser blamed a lot of her need to get away on her ex Nick. He shook his head ruing the day she ever met that boy. He hadn’t been a good match for her.

  Clearing the grill, Fraser knew what she needed. She needed to find what Josh had. She needed someone who could see the inner not just the outer beauty. She needed to fall head over heels in love, he decided.

  Fraser closed off the grill. He admired what Celeste did. Over the years with Camille he had traveled many times to where she was based and had seen firsthand how vital her services were. Although he had nothing but the utmost respect for her, he couldn’t deny he wanted her here. He wanted his little girl home, close to her family. He wanted her back where she belonged. He wanted her to love someone and be loved.

  Fraser smiled and thought comfortingly that at least he and Camille did as much as they could to support her. Over the last six years, they worked hard at fundraising for wherever Celeste was. He raised his eyebrows and stopped chewing. Six years. Is that how long it’s been? He shook his head and frowned when he looked over at his wife, acknowledging that although Camille said little, she worried terribly that something might happen to Celeste.

  Bud, the family dog, padded over, breaking his concentration.

  Fraser lowered the plate in his hand. The dog sniffed it then promptly turned up his nose.

  Chapter 16

  Celeste was aware her sister was finding it increasingly difficult to hide the fact that the boys and the pups were getting on her nerves. By midweek, the entire family was exhausted with trying to engage Sophie who was in the throes of completing her fifth novel, and only seemed to lift her head from her laptop to complain about the boys or the dogs.

  Somehow, the boys seemed to sense her animosity and instinctively tried hard to annoy her.

  At twenty-seven, Sophie still lived at home. She told Celeste she didn’t see the need to move out as she had 24-7 service from their folks. Their mother, Celeste realized, did everything for Sophie, and her sister good-naturedly milked it to the fullest.

  Sophie was definitely a nocturnal creature. It was, according to Sophie, more conducive to support two of her favorite habits—booze and cigarettes. Since she could only get Camille to agree to one part of the day when she could indulge in both wholeheartedly, evenings it seemed suited them both.

  Celeste knew their mother was relieved that it was more cigarettes than booze, but it didn’t stop her worrying about Sophie’s lifestyle.

  That night when everyone retired, Sophie encouraged her sister to a nightcap on the beach. Celeste took a bottle of tequila, and Sophie took a pack of cigarettes along with a notepad in case an inspirational moment should strike.

  Bud trailed along with them.

  They settled on the sand, lit their cigarettes, and took a few slugs of tequila in silence.

  Sophie poured some into her hand and gave it to Bud. “I thought you didn’t smoke?”

  The dog slurped enthusiastically.

  “I just like the occasional one,” Celeste replied. She reached for the tequila bottle, and drank some. “I thought you hated tequila and why are you giving it to Bud?”

  Sophie smirked. “He likes it.”

  Looking at her sister, Celeste laughed heartily. “God, I’ve missed your wackiness,” she said, laying back.

  Sophie lay back too and they watched the night sky.

  After a while Sophie asked, “What’s going on with you and Amy?”

  Surprised, Celeste lifted her head and looked at her sister. Realizing the tension between them was probably obvious, she replied, “Well. You know. We’re just not getting along right now.”

  Sophie sat up. “No,” she said, taking the tequila bottle, she slugged some back. “I’m talking about the sexual tension thing.”

  Celeste sat bolt upright. “What?”

  “Well,” Sophie replied as if stating the obvious, “I’ve seen the way you look at her, and it isn’t with sisterly love that’s for damn sure.”

  “Sophie, what planet are you on?” Celeste retorted. She took the bottle and swallowed some tequila. “Somehow, you’re confusing real life with those goddamn seriously warped books you write.”

  “They’re horror, Cel,” Sophie replied. She picked at the black polish on her fingernails. “Good old-fashioned, bloodcurdling horror books.” Lighting a cigarette, she added, reaching for the tequila bottle, “Healthy as hell if you ask me.”

  Sophie drank as Bud hit her leg with his paw.

  Celeste lay back down. Lifting her head, she watched Sophie pour tequila into her palm. Bud slurped it before settling down next to her. “This is crazy,” she said. She let her head fall back and laughed.

  “I’ve just finished reading a book on incest,” Sophie said, drawing a heart in the sand.

  Celeste sat up. She looked at her sister in disbelief. “It isn’t incest.”

  “Ah,” Sophie exclaimed as if unearthing the culprit in a murder mystery. “So, you admit that it’s not purely platonic?”

  Irritated, Celeste frowned. “No!”

  Sophie smirked with satisfaction then explained her deduction. “There is a palpable tension between you and Amy, and over the last few days she has done her best to ignore you. In recognition of her remoteness, you’ve removed yourself from the situation by spending most of your time exploring the beach a few miles off.”

  “Ergo, Inspector Clouseau, there’s sexual tension in the air?” Celeste responded, her lips twitching.

  Sophie eyed her sister for a moment, as if deciding something. Then dragging heavily on her cigarette, said in her best Garboesque voice, “No, dahling, because I saw you both romp on the beach the other day.”

  Groaning, Celeste lay back and covering her eyes uttered, “Sophie, what has gotten into you? Lifting her hands from her eyes, she asked defensively, “Why are you spying on people?”

  Ignoring Celeste’s accusation, Sophie responded, “No, Cel. What has gotten into you?” She ran an arrow through the heart shape. It pointed straight at Celeste. “This is Josh’s wife you’re messing with!”

  Sitting up, Celeste watched Sophie inscribe her own and someone else’s initials in the heart shape.

  “I’ve been having an affair,” Sophie confided.

  Relieved that her sister had changed the subject, Celeste teased, “You must still be in therapy to reveal that?”

  Sophie laughed. “Yes actually, I am, and guess what?” She leaned forward. “I’m having an affair with my therapist!”

  Celeste’s mouth slackened. She stared at her sister. “You’re kidding?”

  “There’s real chemistry.”

  “Seriously, you’re kidding?” Celeste said then grimaced.

  Sophie shook her head. “I’m serious.”

  “I can’t believe it!”

  Sophie threw up her arms. “Why?”

  “Why?” Celeste stared at her sister then shivered. “Because banging old ladies is gross. Jesus, Sophie, isn’t she in her seventies?”

  Sophie looked at her sister wickedly. “It’s not a she, it’s a he. A very young, fit he.”

  Celeste chuckled. “What happened with the woman?”

  “She dumped me.”

  “Why?”

  Sophie grinned. “For consistently setting low personal standards and failing to achieve them.”

  Feeling the tequila kick in, Celeste burst out laughing, Sophie followed. It was a few minutes before either caught their breath.

  Celeste lit the cigarette that Sophie passed her.

  Sophie slurped from the bottle then wiped her hand over her mouth and asked, “When did you become a rug muncher?”

  Shocked, Celeste gagged on the smoke she was inhaling and coughed furiously.

  Sophie slapped Celeste hard on the back while holding the bottle to her mouth i
nstructing her to swig.

  Eventually, Celeste got her breath back. But, it took a few moments before her face returned to its normal color.

  “I was only joking,” Sophie said. “I want you to tell me.” She leaned in earnestly. “I really want to know what’s happening between you and Amy.”

  Red-eyed, Celeste looked at her sister and said hoarsely, “I thought your crystal ball would have told you that already?”

  “No crystal ball needed. You just need to watch the way you look at her.”

  Celeste slugged tequila and coughed slightly. For a moment, she thought about denying everything, but her sister was like a dog with a bone so she decided to be vague. “Something happened a while back, before they got married.” She waved a hand in the air. “It was…” her heart tightened. “It doesn’t matter.” Wanting to change the subject, she passed the bottle. “Your latest book is pretty horrific.”

  Evidently pleased, Sophie chuckled. “Thanks.”

  Propping herself on her elbows, Celeste fell into familiar territory. She teased her sister. “Is your shrink treating you because you’re a natural candidate for de-selection?”

  Sophie smiled sweetly. “Nope. It’s because I’m fuckable and tax returnable,” she said. “We agreed I was only billable for one of the two sessions a week. He says it makes the accounts look better or something.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I go along with it because I get a thrill knowing we go,” she bracketed her fingers, “dutch. You know women’s lib and all that.”

  Celeste frowned. “Is it serious?”

  Sophie half-smiled and shrugged.

  “It’s okay, Sophie,” Celeste said gently.

  “I’ve been here before.” Sophie dragged on her cigarette. She frowned and rubbed out the heart shape in the sand. Sticking out her chin, she added with a note of defiance, “It won’t be long before he dumps me. Once it becomes too ordinary, or once he thinks he’s sorted out my many neuroses.” She looked at Celeste. “You know, he’s a man of integrity. He likes to think he’s on the job when he’s doing the job.” She winked. “If you know what I mean!”

  “Are you okay with that?”

  Sophie looked at Celeste. “It’ll end somehow.” She shrugged. “These things never work. He likes being married with a family. He gets his kicks out of fucking his patients.” She passed the tequila. “Back to you. So, when did you get the hots for Amy?”

  “Sophie,” Celeste replied in exasperation. “There is nothing between Amy and me!”

  “You bet your half-French froggie ass of there is!”

  “No there isn’t,” Celeste retorted.

  Sophie leaned back on her elbows. “Well, if that’s true, why have you kept your distance for so long? Why were you two practically making out on the beach like two teenagers in love?”

  Looking hard at her sister, Celeste decided there was no point in denying it. “Doesn’t the idea of me being attracted to Josh’s wife freak you out a little, Sophie?”

  Sophie shrugged, and said a touch philosophically, “Everyone’s on a journey, Cel. Yours just might be a little more convoluted than most!” She looked thoughtfully at her sister. “What do you think Amy will do?”

  “Why Amy?” Celeste asked, raising her eyebrows. “Why not what I want to do?”

  Sophie laughed then drawled, “I already know what you want to do, sugar!”

  Impatiently, Celeste ran her fingers through her hair. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Sophie said quietly, “I’m here for you.”

  “Okay. I admit it,” Celeste said then sighed heavily. “The reason I stayed away is because of Josh and Amy. Because,” she hesitated, “of who she is.” She rested her chin on her knees. “How do they explain things away in the movies: a moment’s indiscretion, it finished before it began?”

  Sophie lilted, “If all that we get, we just borrow. If all we make is just sorrow. C’est la vie.” Sophie smiled. “Listen,” she said comfortingly. “I see that it isn’t all one way.”

  Celeste gave her an inquisitive look.

  “I’ve been watching her. It’s clear to me she’s attracted to you.”

  “So, what are you telling me?” Her head getting fuzzy, Celeste squinted slightly. “That it’s all right to make a move on Josh’s wife?”

  Sophie spread out her hands. “No!” she replied. “No! Of course not! C’mon, Celeste, giving you permission, even for me, would be a little weird! But there’s a connection between you and Amy.”

  Celeste shook her head.

  Sophie shrugged. “Maybe you and I are destined to share the same fate, loving someone else’s man.” She arched her eyebrow, “Or woman in your case?”

  Feeling the rawness of Sophie’s words, Celeste responded haughtily, “I’m not in love with her.” The tequila kicking in fully, she added wryly, “Just seriously attracted to her!” Leaning forward, Celeste looked at her sister. “A few years ago, I met someone.”

  “Boy or girl?”

  “Girl.”

  “Pre- or post-Nick?”

  “Post.”

  “Did you two get it on?” Sophie asked eagerly.

  Celeste eyed her little sister. “Get back to your bridge, you evil troll. Your powers don’t work here.”

  Sophie laughed. “Sorry. Blame the voices. I just do whatever they tell me.”

  Celeste grinned.

  “Was it love?”

  Celeste’s grin slipped away. “Maybe,” she replied. “It’s difficult to say, it was all so new.”

  “New in terms of being with a woman?”

  “Yes.” Celeste pushed her hands through her hair. She sighed. “I guess at college I flirted with the idea, but with Felice…” her voice trailed off.

  “What happened?”

  “She was killed.”

  Sophie caught her breath. She looked at Celeste with surprise then honest regret. “I’m sorry.”

  Celeste nodded slowly. “Me too.”

  “Why have you never told me this?”

  “I couldn’t.” Celeste looked at her sister. “It was too painful.”

  Sophie eyed Celeste for a while. “Amy, where does she fit in?”

  “I don’t know,” Celeste replied. “All I know is that I meet my brother’s bride-to-be and, you’re right, I get the hots for her!” She shook her head. “What the hell is all that about? I must be fucked up.”

  “Rebound?”

  Celeste shook her head. She smiled sadly. “Maybe I need an appointment with your therapist?”

  “Nope,” Sophie said, looking her sister up and down. “Don’t you get it yet, sis. Nobody can resist you, not even Amy.” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t be long before he’d be offering you three maybe five weekly sessions!”

  “Garbage!”

  “Garbage my ass,” Sophie replied. She clicked her tongue. “You’re oblivious, aren’t you?” She sighed. “That’s what makes you so attractive, Cel.” She threw out her arms. “The fact that you’re beautiful and you don’t give a shit about it.”

  “Give it a rest, Sophie. Not you too.”

  Sophie laughed. “Fortunately, you’re my sister. She shrugged. “So, as always, I’m prepared to forgive you for not giving a shit, for some fucking reason.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I know.”

  Celeste swigged some tequila. “I don’t like it.”

  “I know.”

  “Why am I attracted to her?”

  “She’s hot,” Sophie replied. “You’re a dyke. The stars shine at night. It’s the way things are.” She shrugged again. “Accept it.”

  Celeste shook her head.

  “Maybe it’s a lot to do with your work.”

  Confused, Celeste looked at her sister. “What do you mean?”

  “It makes you see things differently.”

  “What?”

  Lighting the last cigarette, Sophie mumbled something.

  “What are you saying?” Celeste asked as Sophie inhaled deeply.
r />   “You see all sides of humanity.”

  Confused, Celeste shrugged.

  “With your job you see extremes of human nature, right?”

  “Maybe”

  “There’s no maybe about it.” Sophie looked at Celeste. “You go to places where there’s war and famine, and all sorts of shit like that.”

  Knowing her sister was more than capable of going off on a tangent, Celeste frowned and tried to figure out what Sophie was telling her. She raised her eyebrows. “And?”

  “And, I guess, in some ways, it’s a privilege to get to see all sides of humanity.”

  Now completely confused, Celeste asked, “What are you getting at, Sophie?”

  “What I’m getting at Celeste,” Sophie replied. “Is that where you’ve been, gives you clarity. What you’ve seen means you don’t care about the things that someone like me or most people I know care about.”

  Confused, Celeste replied slowly, “Okay.”

  “I mean, you don’t give a shit about the rat race or things like material gain or what people think.”

  Still confused, Celeste looked at Sophie.

  “Few of us will leave a legacy,” Sophie said, looking at Celeste intently. “In a hundred years, who’ll care about what we did, what car we drove, what house we lived in, how we worked, what principles we had? Who’ll know or even care about what or who we were. A hundred years from now, no one will care.”

  “This is all very profound, Sophie, but—”

  Sophie interrupted. “But because of what you do. It makes you understand what’s important. Makes you understand your own mortality, Celeste. Makes you understand that in reality rules don’t mean shit.”

  “What’s your point, Sophie?”

  “The point,” Sophie replied, scrunching the empty cigarette pack. “Is that it makes you less frightened to pursue what you want.”

  Suddenly curious, Celeste tilted her head.

  “Conforming isn’t what you do anymore. You might have taken your time to come back home, but I know you. I know you play down what you feel for Amy. And I can see you’re fighting it.” Sophie drew in her breath then exhaled slowly. “You want to go after her. You want—”