The Sullivan Sisters
Page 26
Kerry and Bonnie were on her mind, though she didn’t say that aloud. She felt, instinctively, that Eileen knew.
“You’re right,” said Eileen. “Sounds cheesy as hell.”
There was Eileen’s smirk again, and the sight of it filled Claire with warmth. She could go to Eugene. She could start a new life. She could even, maybe, find an Ainsley St. John who wasn’t an Internet pipe dream.
Claire could do that in the future.
It wasn’t excelling by Harper Everly standards, but it might be perfection, all the same.
THIRTY-SIX Murphy
At the same time Claire was texting Ainsley, Murphy was preparing the trick.
Eileen and Claire didn’t know about it … yet. That would defeat the purpose of a surprise magic show.
Murphy had special-ordered this trick and, after almost twenty practices, she had decided she was ready for a debut.
She looked out the window, noting Claire and Eileen on the porch. They were talking, but seemed chill enough. Neither of them was shut in their bedroom, so they couldn’t accuse her of bothering them. In fact, they hadn’t done that since their return from Rockport.
Murphy set the plastic tumblers in a straight line on the coffee table.
She breathed in deep, pep-talking herself as she went into the kitchen. There, she prepared the show’s refreshments: three coffee mugs of ginger ale, for old time’s sake. These would be the celebratory drinks once the trick was through.
As she poured the last of the fizzing sodas, her eyes strayed to the kitchen’s back door and the emptied, cleaned-out tank resting there. Siegfried’s tank. His final home, but not his final resting place.
Since her seaside farewell, Murphy had looked up the way tides worked. She was pretty positive that Siegfried had washed up on the shore of Rockport and maybe even scarred some poor runner out for a morning jog. She felt bad about that, but she no longer felt guilty.
Murphy took the drinks into the den, where she stopped and stared at a new picture over the mantle: three kid brothers, arms slung over shoulders. Eileen had stolen this one item—just one—from the house on Laramie. A final crime.
Looking at it, Murphy considered that maybe there was an Enright curse, like Mom had said. If there was, Murphy liked to hope she and her sisters were in the business of curse breaking.
Even weeks after she’d said them, Eileen’s words echoed in Murphy’s heart: You’re the engine.
She was starting to believe it.
Drinks prepared, show at the ready, Murphy went out to the porch.
“You two busy?”
Her sisters looked at her. There was light in Eileen’s eyes. There was no phone in Claire’s hands.
Eileen said, “What you got cooking?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Claire raised a brow. “Surprise, huh? Then I guess we’d better go see.”
They followed her into the den, to the site of Cayenne Castles past. There were no parapets raised, no blanket walls or pillow thrones. The memories were there, though—the words the Sullivan sisters had spoken, and the promises they’d made, drenched deep in carpet fibers and painted into the walls. Murphy could sense the past Sir Sages, Princess Paprikas, and Prince Peppers watching them, an invisible audience.
The pressure was on.
“Okay,” said Murphy, as Eileen and Claire took their seats on the couch. “Behold, before you, three cups.”
Eileen said, “Beheld.”
“Pick them up, check them out. Make sure there’s nothing weird about them.”
“Weird, how?” asked Claire.
“You know, false bottoms, et cetera.”
Eileen rapped one cup with her knuckles. Claire turned over another, running her thumb along its seam. When the inspection was complete, they set the cups on the table and Murphy sorted them back in their straight line.
“Now!” she said, with practiced dramatic flourish. “Look at this ring.”
From her flannel shirt pocket, Murphy produced a smooth metal ring, small enough to fit any of their fingers.
Claire took it first, looked it over, and handed it to Eileen, who, after further examination, poked out her tongue and licked it.
“Leenie,” Claire said, aghast.
“I’m being thorough,” Eileen replied. “You want thoroughness, right, Murph?”
Murphy nodded earnestly. “As thorough as you want.”
Thoroughness through, the ring was returned to Murphy’s keeping.
“Now comes the moment of truth,” she announced.
Kneeling before the coffee table, Murphy dragged out the centermost cup and placed the ring beneath it. Then the magic began. Murphy moved the cups. She swept them across the table, orchestrating a dance—curves and spirals and pirouettes, changing hands from the first cup to second to third. She carried on a minute, so long that Eileen began to chuckle.
Finally, she brought the cups to a resting position, forming their perfect line.
“All right,” she said. “Where’s the ring?”
Eileen leaned forward and, with boundless confidence, picked up the centermost cup.
There was no ring underneath.
“Shit,” she said. “Really thought I had it.”
Murphy turned to Claire with a solemn, professional air. “Did you have a different cup in mind?”
Claire licked her pink-stained lips. After deliberation, she pointed at the left-hand tumbler.
Murphy raised it.
The ring wasn’t there.
Then Murphy made the first of her “ta-da” moves: She lifted the right-hand cup.
There was no ring.
Claire gasped, and Murphy’s heart filled with joy. She didn’t let on, though. The trick wasn’t over.
“Huh!” she said, maintaining the act. “How strange. It’s seems the ring has disappeared.”
She placed the three cups back in position.
“Let me try one last thing,” she said.
She began the dance again: carving, whirling, circling. She drew the cups around the table with fluid finesse.
Then she brought them to a stop.
“Leenie,” she said. “Check your cup again.”
Eileen did. She grabbed it with the fervor of a little kid, and there, on the table, was the ring.
“Knew it,” she said, scooping it up. With satisfaction, she slid it on her finger. “Perfect fit.”
“Is that the ring you handled before?” Murphy asked, still all business.
Eileen held her hand close to her face and darted her tongue out. “Sure tastes the same.”
“Claire,” Murphy said. “Check the left cup.”
Claire lifted it from the table as though afraid she might be letting out a monster.
There was no monster, though. There was another ring.
“Whoa,” said Eileen, while Claire picked up the ring, mystification on her face.
“Is that the ring you handled before?”
“It … sure looks like it.”
Grinning triumphantly, Murphy removed the last tumbler from the table, revealing a third ring. She picked it up, face aglow.
“Three rings for the three of us,” she announced.
“Damn, Murph,” said Eileen. “You’ve gotten good.”
Claire was still studying her ring, and for a moment, Murphy felt uncertain. “I know it’s not nice jewelry. Not the kind you make. But it’s for you to keep. For us to remember each other by.”
“You make it sound like we’re going off to war,” snorted Eileen.
“Well, okay.” Murphy shrugged. “Make it morbid, if you want.”
Claire’s eyes met Murphy’s, holding them in a solemn stare. “It’s perfect, Murph,” she said. “I’ve never made anything this good.”
Murphy couldn’t keep down her grin any longer. She’d done it. She’d finished the act, and she hadn’t made a mistake. What’s more, she’d had a willing audience.
“Three rings,” Eileen mused. �
��You know, this is probably going to turn our skin green.”
Murphy kept grinning. “I thought it’d be a nice magic start to the year.”
“Damn straight.” Eileen flashed her hand. “This thing’s not coming off. I mean, not if it’s magical.”
“Three rings for the three of us,” Claire said, softly.
“Sullivan sisters forever,” Murphy added.
The days of Operation Memory Making were over. The days of Simply Being Together were here.
So the memory of Cayenne Castle remained, kept alive by a planner, a visionary, and a performer.
It was an auspicious beginning, and as for its end …
Well, you’d have to ask the Sullivan sisters themselves.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you, Beth Phelan, for cheering on Eileen, Claire, and Murphy from the very beginning, and thank you to everyone at Gallt & Zacker for the ongoing support. Thank you, Zareen Jaffery, for seeing me through our fourth novel together and for believing in the Sullivan sisters’ story in all its zany iterations. My thanks to Alexa Pastor, Andre Wheeler, and Dainese Santos for your behind-the-scenes help and e-mailed assistance. Thank you, Heather McLeod, for your incisive copyedits. Thank you to Chloë Foglia for the stunning cover design, to Danielle Davis for the rockin’ lettering, and to Pedro Tapa for an illustration that captures the sisters so perfectly. And big thanks to everyone else at Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers who made this novel’s publication possible.
The usual suspects, you know who you are, and I’m so grateful for you. It’s been ten years since we met across the pond, Shelly, and you’re still the best Little Miss Twin around. Destiny, you’re the Louise to my Tina. Nicole, stay fabulous and give Harmony a treat from me. Mai, my fellow Marco Polo-er, by the time you read this we WILL have conquered The Brothers Karamazov. Kayla, thanks for keeping our kitchen twatwaffle-free. Shannon, my witchy friend, I can’t wait to see what adventures await you in New England. Hilary, you’re the bee’s knees, the giraffe’s neck, the anteater’s tongue! Sasha, you’re the coolest gal I know, and you make it Clown But Fashion every day. Libby, thanks for being such a rad college-but-not-college friend. Lastly, all my literary love to the ladies of Phoebe’s Book Club.
Thank you to Jen at Pop! Goes the Reader for being a fearless, indefatigable book blogger from the day I e-met you. Thank you to Kristen, librarian extraordinaire, and to Seoling, publishing wonder, for your friendship and care packages and general brilliance. Thank you, too, to teachers, librarians, and bloggers—those I have and have not met—for all you do for young readers and the YA community. You have my eternal gratitude.
Thank you, Mom and Dad, for always supporting my writing, and my thanks to the extended family for your love and encouragement. Thank you, Annie and Matt, for first introducing me to the state that would one day become my home and the inspiration for this novel. It’s the best thing, being neighbors with you. Thank you to Bob, Vicki, and Megan for accepting me into your magnificent family.
Alli, thank you for loving me; for moving cross-country in only a car, with a dog; and for making this new home with me in Oregon. Thank you for cherishing my stories from the day we met. The story I cherish most is the one we share.
And thank you, dear reader, for journeying to the coast and back with me. May you never be afraid to build and rebuild Cayenne Castles of your own.
More from the Author
The Great Unknowable End
Tash Hearts Tolstoy
Lucky Few
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kathryn Ormsbee grew up with a secret garden in her backyard and a spaceship in her basement. She is the author of The Water and the Wild and the YA novels Lucky Few, Tash Hearts Tolstoy, and The Great Unknowable End. She’s lived in lots of fascinating cities, from Birmingham to London to Seville, but she currently lives in Austin, Texas.
Visit us at simonandschuster.com/teen
www.SimonandSchuster.com/Authors/Kathryn-Ormsbee
Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Simon & Schuster, New York
Also by
KATHRYN ORMSBEE
The Water and the Wild
The Doorway and the Deep
The Current and the Cure
The House in Poplar Wood
Midnight on Strange Street
Lucky Few
Tash Hearts Tolstoy
The Great Unknowable End
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2020 by Kathryn Ormsbee
Jacket illustration copyright © 2020 by Pedro Tapa
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Jacket design by Chloë Foglia
Interior design by Hilary Zarycky
Hand lettering by Danielle Davis
Author photograph by Leenan Greer
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Ormsbee, Kathryn, author.
Title: The Sullivan sisters / Kathryn Ormsbee.
Description: First edition. | New York : Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, [2020] | Audience: Ages 12 and up. | Audience: Grades 7–9. |
Summary: The once tight bond among three sisters, ages fourteen to eighteen, disappears as each deals with a personal setback; but when a letter arrives informing the sisters of a dead uncle and an inheritance they knew nothing about, the news forces them to band together in the face of a sinister family mystery, and possible murder.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019035014 (print) | LCCN 2019035015 (eBook) |
ISBN 9781534420533 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781534420557 (eBook)
Subjects: CYAC: Sisters—Fiction. | Inheritance and succession—Fiction. | Families—Fiction. | Secrets—Fiction.
Classification: LCC PZ7.O637 Su 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.O637 (eBook) | DDC
[Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019035014
LC eBook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019035015