“Well, maybe I changed my mind.”
Just then Gus walked in. “Twin alert,” she said, noting the clothing coincidence.
“Hey, at least I’m not wearing a hood ornament around my neck,” said Olympia, dabbing at her eyes.
“It’s not a hood ornament,” said Gus. “It’s a laughing Buddha. It’s supposed to be a good luck symbol. He’s the patron of the weak and poor.” She paused. “Debbie gave it to me.”
“Debbie?” asked Olympia.
“Wait—are you trying to tell us that you and Debbie got back together?!” asked Perri.
“I’m not trying to tell you anything,” said Gus. “But yes, we got back together.”
“Wow—congratulations,” said Olympia.
“You’re kidding—that’s fantastic news!” cried Perri, who could hardly contain her relief. She hadn’t realized how much she’d detested the idea of Gus and Jeff being a couple until she discovered they definitely weren’t anymore. That phase of Gus’s life appeared to be over, thank goodness. The Sims family was once again Perri’s private domain to love and loathe. Who could have guessed that Perri would have been so happy to think her youngest sister was a lesbian, after all?
A short while later, the doorbell rang. There was only one person left who it could be. Perri took a deep breath, sucked in her stomach, and strode to the door. Olympia and Gus hung back in the hall, near the console. A beautiful and elegant Asian woman soon appeared in the doorframe, backlit by a gleaming sun. “Hello,” she said. She was wearing a lightweight beige power pantsuit to outpower all of Perri’s previous attempts to exude sanguinity, capability, and calm. A single gold bangle hung from her wrist. “Welcome. You must be Jennifer,” she said, meeting the woman’s outstretched hand and scanning her face for signs of her father. (She could find none.)
“And you must be Perri,” said Jennifer. “It’s a pleasure to meet you finally.”
Just then Olympia appeared at Perri’s side and greeted Jennifer with kisses to both cheeks. As if they were already old friends. The gesture made Perri wince. Then it was Gus’s turn. To Perri’s surprise and fascination—she could finally see her baby sister for the person she was in the outside world—Gus went into full attorney mode. “It’s nice to meet you in person, finally,” she said in a richly textured and self-assured voice. She shook Jennifer’s hand with two of her own, then draped an arm over Jennifer’s knifelike shoulder blades and escorted her down the hall and into the backyard.
“What a beautiful house and garden you have,” said Jennifer, turning to Perri.
“Thank you,” said Perri, pleased by the compliment. “Can I get you some fresh lemonade?”
“That sounds delicious.” Jennifer took off her suit jacket and carefully folded it over the back of a patio chair, revealing a pristine sleeveless blouse that showed off her well-toned upper arms.
Five minutes later, Perri returned with a sparkling glass pitcher and skinny glasses embellished with drawings of summer fruits. Jennifer and Olympia were now seated on the patio set. Gus stood nearby, her hands in the pockets of her black men’s pants. Perri poured four drinks, dropped lemon wedges in each one, and took her own seat—at the head of the table. “So where do you live?” she asked Jennifer. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Not at all. I live in a suburb of Minneapolis called Eden Prairie,” said Jennifer.
“It must be freezing,” said Perri. She couldn’t believe she was talking about the weather.
“In the winter, yes.”
“And do you live—alone? with family?” Was that too personal a question to ask your own—sister? Perri couldn’t help but notice the lack of any gemstones on her hands…
Jennifer cleared her throat. “I’m actually separated, as of recently.”
The news startled and, in truth, secretly pleased Perri. So Jennifer Yu’s life wasn’t all success stories, after all. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said as compassionately as she could.
Jennifer smiled tightly. “It’s fine. It’s very amicable. My ex and I have a daughter who’s turning eleven this month, and we share custody.”
“Funny. I have a son who just turned ten,” volunteered Perri, feeling competitive once again. It didn’t seem entirely fair that Jennifer’s daughter was a whole year older than Perri’s oldest son.
“Oh,” said Jennifer. “That’s great.”
“He and his younger sister and brother are out with their father right now.”
“Three kids!”
“Yup.” Perri laughed proudly. “Three crazy kids!”
“And I have a daughter who’s about to turn four,” volunteered Olympia.
“Four is such a wonderful age,” said Jennifer. “I still remember Lily asking the funniest questions.”
“And I’m a lesbian and have no children,” said Gus, not to be outdone.
“Cool,” said Jennifer, still nodding.
“So where exactly did you grow up?” asked Perri.
“In Northern California.”
“And for college?”
“Stanford,” said Jennifer. “Many years ago now.” She laughed.
“Hey, I’m no spring chicken myself,” said Perri. “My twentieth reunion at Penn is next year.”
“Penn! Very impressive, too,” said Jennifer.
“Thank you,” said Perri, smarting. The “too” had sounded patronizing. It also felt like permission to ask her own rude question. “So forgive me for asking this, Jennifer, but I don’t quite understand why your mother never told our father she was pregnant.”
There was silence. Olympia and Gus both visibly drew in their breath. Jennifer took a sip of lemonade. Then she put down her glass, and said, “I honestly don’t know the answer to that, and my mother is dead. So I can’t ask her.”
“I’m sorry,” said Gus.
“She died a lot of years ago now,” said Jennifer. “But thank you.”
“And do you mind me asking when you decided to find out who ‘Bob’ was?” asked Perri.
“I’d thought about it in my twenties,” said Jennifer. “I got serious about the idea in my thirties, after I had Lily. I wanted to be able to tell her who her other grandparents were. So a year and a half ago, I hired a private investigator.”
“A private investigator?!” Perri envisioned a black sedan with tinted windows trailing Bob across the aqueduct on his ten-speed.
“There was no other way to find you guys,” Jennifer said with a quick laugh. “I actually sat on the information for a while. Then, when I got offered the fellowship in New York, it felt like fate.” She laughed again—nervously this time, it seemed to Perri.
“Right” and “Hmm,” the Hellinger sisters murmured in unison.
“Do you want to see a picture of Lily?” she asked.
Again, they concurred in triplicate.
Jennifer pulled out her phone, scrolled to a photo of Lily wearing a short white skirt and swinging a tennis racquet, black pigtails flying, and passed it around.
“Adorable,” said Olympia.
“Is your daughter in New York with you?” asked Perri.
“She’s with her father right now. She had a tournament this weekend.”
“Tournament?” asked Gus.
“She’s a tennis player,” said Jennifer. “She’s actually ranked number one right now in the twelve and unders, Northern section. Which basically means Minnesota and the two Dakotas.”
“Impressive,” Perri said miserably. Sadie’s only athletic achievements involved the Hula-Hoop. And Aiden, while a decent slugger, didn’t run to first base so much as jiggle. “I’m actually an aspiring tennis player myself.”
“Well, she’s flying here to meet me after the school year ends. Maybe she could give you some tips!”
“Great!”
“She’s actually going to start sixth grade in the city this fall.”
“Where?” Perri couldn’t help but ask.
“Spence. They don’t usually take transfer students, bu
t we got lucky.”
“Wow. Gwyneth Paltrow’s alma mater!” said Perri, bristling again, this time at what she felt to be Jennifer’s subtle gloating.
Just then, Jennifer choked up. Dabbing at her eyes with her knuckles, she looked from one to the other of them, and said, “You know, when I was growing up, I always dreamed of having a sister. I actually had an imaginary one—named Priscilla.”
“That’s sweet,” said Perri, guilty to have had such negative thoughts about this woman who had clearly grown up with so little and accomplished so much and who wanted so badly what she and her sisters possibly didn’t even want themselves.
“That’s funny,” said Gus. “Because I had an imaginary brother named Vance.”
“Well, we’re all yours if you want us!” said Olympia. Perri wished her sister would speak for herself.
They ate and talked more about their children. What other neutral topic was there? Finally, Jennifer stood up. “Anyway, I should probably be heading out.”
“So soon?” asked Perri, who actually couldn’t wait for the woman to leave. She was even chicer than Olympia. She had great hair—a thick shiny affair that went halfway down her back and didn’t appear to have been colored. (Perri had started dyeing hers the year before.) Her good works put Gus’s to shame. And she was even more put together than Perri—and, for all Perri knew, made more money too. Plus, her daughter was a tennis prodigy, of all things! Worst of all, Jennifer Yu was perfectly pleasant. Perri couldn’t even hate her—that was the most infuriating part. Though Perri did hate her—for forever destroying her picture of her parents as the most happily married people in North America. Never mind her picture of her father as a space cadet par excellence. It turned out the Led Zeppelin–style shirts weren’t just for show; Bob had actually had the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle to match, Perri thought—or, at least, as close as you could get to one and still be a particle physicist. There was also the picture of Perri herself to consider. Was it possible that she and Jennifer bore a resemblance? Outsiders were always commenting that the Hellinger sisters looked nothing alike. But maybe Perri had finally found her doppelgänger, albeit the size-two, half-Chinese version…
They walked Jennifer to the door. “Definitely let me know when Lily is back in town,” Perri told her. “I’d love to get her together with my kids.” Did she really mean this?
“Definitely,” said Jennifer. “You could also come visit us in the city. We’re here through next summer at least.”
“Sounds great,” said Perri. “Bye!” They all kissed on the cheek. Or air-kissed.
Closing the door behind her, Perri felt as if her lungs had had their first taste of oxygen in an hour.
After Jennifer left, Olympia and Gus followed Perri back outside, where they made a few feeble efforts at helping her clear the table. (Perri blamed Carol for not giving them chores as children and instilling a greater sense of obligation.) It was Olympia who spoke first. “Maybe it’s just me,” she said. “But I feel like it’s kind of a relief to have a new family member—someone new to talk to. I don’t know—”
Perri sometimes wondered how she and Olympia could have been created out of the same pool of DNA, yet see the world in diametrically opposed ways.
“I wonder why she and the hubby broke up,” said Gus.
“Maybe it annoyed him after a while that he was married to Little Miss Perfect saving kids with cancer,” volunteered Perri.
“Yowza!” Gus laughed. “Someone’s feeling a tad antagonistic.”
“Well, I think it’s kind of sad,” said Olympia. “We need one happy couple in this family. Mom and Dad are barely speaking. I don’t dare ask what’s going on with you and Mike.”
“Then don’t,” snapped Perri.
“What about me and Debbie?” asked Gus. “We don’t count because we’re lesbians?”
“You only got back together, like, yesterday,” said Olympia. “Talk to me in three months.”
“Well, if you’re so pro–happy couples,” said Gus, “how come you never have a boyfriend?”
Olympia turned noticeably red. “Everybody knows I can’t keep a relationship going,” she stammered.
“We do?” asked Perri.
“What? You just noticed that I haven’t had any love in my life since forever?”
Except with my husband, Perri was tempted to add, but refrained. Instead, she asked, “So, what’s the issue? It’s not like you can’t get a guy. You’re only completely gorgeous.” She laughed at the absurdity of the situation.
“The problem,” Olympia began in a trembly voice, “is that I’ve been in love with the same man for many years, and he’s not available.”
Perri’s whole body tensed up. She didn’t mean Mike, did she?
“You mean Patrick?” asked Gus.
Olympia turned to Gus, squinting. “How did you know?”
Perri sighed with relief.
“Why do you always act surprised when your own sisters seem to know things about you?” asked Gus.
“I don’t know,” said Olympia, laughing bitterly. “I guess I just always assume my private hell is my own private hell.”
“There’s no such thing as private,” harrumphed Perri. “At least not around you guys—a lesson I learned only too well this past month.”
“Very funny,” said Gus, a strange look coming over her face. “On that note—Pia, there’s something I feel like I need to tell you.”
“What?” said Olympia.
Gus paused, her mouth forming words but nothing coming out. Finally, she said, “Remember those pet goldfish we kept in the Kangaroo Club?”
“Yeah.”
“Remember how I said they died? Well, they died because I flushed them down the toilet. I was sick of feeding them, but I knew you’d be mad. So I didn’t tell you… till now.”
“You, Devotee of All Lowly Creatures, sent our club mascots to a watery grave?!” cried Olympia.
Perri couldn’t resist. “Shit happens,” she said.
It was a fairly random addition to the conversation. But somehow, in that moment, it was the funniest line that any Hellinger sister had ever uttered. Suddenly the three of them were not just laughing but doubled over on the floor and nearly convulsing, with Perri leading the pack. When she finally caught her breath, she panted out “I say we toast to that,” burst into further hysterics, then crawled over to her freestanding wine refrigerator, where she retrieved a bottle of good Champagne. She’d been saving it for a special occasion. What was this if not one? Perri popped the cork and poured out three brimming goblets, which she distributed to her sisters. “To ‘shit happens!’ ” she said again, lifting her own glass into the air.
“And to the Hellinger sisters,” said Gus, clinking her own glass against those of Perri and Olympia.
“Old and new,” said Olympia.
“But mostly old,” said Perri. “And in my case, really old.”
“Please,” said Gus. “You’re only forty.”
“Does anyone have a cigarette?” asked Perri.
“You smoke?!” cried Olympia, clearly appalled. “It’s so bad for you.”
“You smoke!” cried Gus, echoing her middle sister.
“But I’m the Family Fuck-up,” said Perri.
“Well, I only smoke when I’m having a nervous breakdown.”
“I thought you already had yours,” said Gus.
“I’m not quite done.”
“If you’re really desperate, I have a joint in my bag,” said Olympia.
“You mean, like, a marijuana joint?” asked Perri.
“No, a pizza joint,” said Olympia, rolling her eyes. “What do you think?”
“I might be persuaded to partake,” said Perri, nostrils flared.
“I wish I had my video camera,” muttered Gus.
“Let me get my bag,” said Olympia.
When Mike walked in the door a half hour later, three kids trailing behind him, all three Hellinger sisters were lying on their backs o
n the kitchen floor giggling maniacally about the time that Carol sent Bob to the pharmacy to buy maxi-pads and he came home with adult diapers. “What the hell is this?” Mike said now, waving his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke. “I thought you guys were all on the outs.”
Olympia jumped up and fled as if she’d just seen a ghost. “Thanks for lunch, Perri,” she called on her way down the hall.
Thanksgiving was going to be really awkward, Perri thought. Then again, who cared? “Mom, you look really weird when you laugh,” offered Sadie.
Perri assumed the fetal position. Whereupon Noah toddled over to her, and said, “Mommy, get up.”
“Come here, you precious thing,” she said, reaching for him. She took him onto her chest and cradled him. “Will you be my gay son who worships his mother and never leaves home?”
“Jesus, Perri!” cried Mike.
“Why is Mom acting like that?” asked Aiden.
“She had too much Champagne,” said Gus, getting up herself. “Anyway, I should probably be going myself. Fun lunch.”
“Bye,” Perri called after her. Her sisters were total freaks, she thought—but also kind of hilarious, if you were in the right mood for them.
21
THE RESULTS OF GUS’S second personal foray into the world of DNA testing were waiting for her when she arrived home from work on Friday. While the envelope was nondescript, she immediately recognized the address in the top left corner. At the sight of it, Gus’s first emotion was relief. Just getting both parties to cooperate had proven to be no easy feat. First, Gus had had to arrange to see Lola without Olympia hovering—a mission she’d accomplished by asking Olympia if she could babysit Lola one night while Olympia went out. Then Gus had had to convince Lola to open her mouth extra wide—ostensibly, so Gus could “see how many teeth” she had. At that point, she’d surreptitiously scraped the inside of the child’s cheek with one of the so-called buccal swabs that had come in the Home DNA Kit she’d ordered online. Lola had, of course, screamed and cried, but Gus had subdued her afterward with a big bag of Gummi bears.
Convincing Patrick to contribute his sample had been equally trying. Gus had finally gotten her way by employing a combination of flattery, cajoling, and, well, threats. “I’d really rather not have to get the state of New York involved in this,” she’d told him. “Maybe you’re not aware that I’m a certified family court lawyer for the state of New York?” After that, he’d committed to the task, even as he’d been something short of pleasant about it.
The Pretty One: A Novel About Sisters Page 23