Take Another Look

by Rosalind Noonan

  Isabel’s eyes sparkled as she basked in the praise. “Harper had the vision. I just showed her how to make it happen.” She rose, shaking out the white fabric. “This should fit now. Want to try it on?”

  While Harper slid on the white sheath of her costume, Jane asked Jesse what he was planning for the party.

  “I don’t usually do costumes, but Harper insisted.” He took a black cloth from his pocket and stretched it across his face so that the holes lined up with his eyes. “The Lone Ranger.”

  “I like your minimalist approach,” Jane said, earning a sardonic grin.

  She spoke with Emma and Sydney about their two-person costume, a clever, eerie dinner table with two holes cut through a plate on the top for the girls’ heads to pop through the cardboard.

  “It’s our heads on a platter,” Emma said.

  Jane laughed as the girls demonstrated. “Delightfully gruesome,” she declared.

  Sydney put her hands on Emma’s hips, and the two girls swayed together, reminding Jane of the vaudevillian horse-head and tail shtick she had seen in movies. The kids laughed, ribbing each other in a scene that was nothing less than jovial. What more could a mother ask for?

  The conversation turned to talk of Isabel’s costume, and she admitted that she was not planning to attend Friday’s party.

  “What? You have to go!” Harper insisted. “The Halloween party is the best one of the year.”

  “Really,” Emma agreed. “I figured you were already done with your costume, Isabel.”

  Isabel shook her head. “Never even started.”

  “Well, start now.” Sydney straddled a chair next to Isabel. “What do you want to be?”

  “I haven’t even thought of it, and I have to get home soon. I’ve got chores to do.”

  Cooking and caring for her mother. Jane tried to steel herself from emotional reflex, but even the most hardened heart would find some sympathy for Isabel Zaretsky.

  “Wow. Your mom must be really strict,” Harper said.

  “She’s not so bad,” Isabel said quietly.

  “But the party’s not till Friday,” Emma pointed out. “We can all meet tomorrow to help Isabel with her costume. So what do you think? Maybe a good fairy? Or Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. I’ve got some ruby slippers in my closet. What size do you wear?”

  “I want to be an object, like you guys,” Isabel said. “Maybe . . . a glass of milk?”

  “Yes!” Harper high-fived her. “And we could go around together, cookies and milk.”

  Jane forced a smile, disturbed at how this was playing out. Had Isabel deliberately chosen a costume with a theme that would match her up with Harper? Of course. She must have. It was a calculated move, but then Isabel had manipulated her way here from Seattle to find family.

  And can you fault her on that? Jane asked herself. She turned away from the kids and paced to the studio windows to stare out at the gathering darkness. Luke had been right. This situation was not going to go away.

  On Friday night when Jane arrived at school to pick her daughter up, she found Harper arm-in-arm with Isabel. The judges had found the “Oreo and milk” costume irresistible, awarding first prize to Harper and Isabel.

  “We rocked that party, Mom,” Harper said. Cellophane from the “milk glass” of Isabel’s costume crinkled as Harper tugged her over to Jane. “Can Isabel stay overnight? We want to celebrate.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “Aw. Well, we’re giving her a ride home. Her mom can’t pick her up.”

  “That’s fine.”

  The girls shed the large shells of their outfits and stashed them gently in the trunk of Jane’s car, joking about how they needed to be preserved in a hall of fame. As Jane drove, the two girls sat together in the back, talking about the party. Typical comments about obnoxious things some girl said, other unusual costumes, and a haunted house made spooky by the senior boys who popped out and grabbed the girls by the arms.

  “They’re not supposed to touch us,” Harper insisted. “I can’t believe they did that.”

  “But it wouldn’t have been scary if they didn’t,” Isabel pointed out.

  “Oh, I know. A couple of hanging bats and fake gravestones? That part was lame.”

  Jane rehearsed her speech as she drove. Each turn was a chance to divert the announcement, each stop sign a moment to pause and think. Oh, how she wanted to put it all off, but things were progressing quickly between the two girls, and Jane would not play her daughter for the fool. Harper needed to have this information, the sooner the better.

  “Thanks for the ride, Ms. Ryan,” Isabel said.

  Jane remained in the driver’s seat while Harper helped the girl get her costume from the trunk. A hug was exchanged—a sight that made Jane’s insides sizzle with anxiety. And then, Harper climbed into the passenger seat and they were rolling again.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” Jane stared ahead, eyes on the road. She had planned to wait, talk over hot cocoa at home, but somehow this seemed easier to say when she could not look her daughter in the eye. “Honestly, this is embarrassing for me. It involves a part of my life that happened before you were born. Some tough decisions I had to make.”

  “This sounds scary,” Harper said slowly.

  “No need to be scared. This stuff is history, but it affects our lives today.” She reminded Harper of the difficult situation she’d been in when she was pregnant. “Your father was gone, and I had no family. My friend Marnie helped, but I was in dire financial straits.”

  “I know. And then I came along,” Harper said, reciting the family lore. “The light of your life.”

  “That’s right. But there’s a bit more to the story. When I was pregnant in Seattle, the doctor told me I was expecting twins.”

  “You were?” Harper was awed. “So I had a twin? Oh, that’s so sad. I always wanted a brother or sister. What happened to my twin?”

  “Nothing so bad. I knew I didn’t have the resources or support to take care of two babies. So I made the arrangements to give the other baby up for adoption . . . to parents who desperately wanted a baby of their own.”

  “So it lived?”

  “Yes. A baby girl, and her new parents, Chrissy and Nick, were so thrilled to have her, and they were very happy together. But sadly, Nick, the dad, died recently and . . .” Jane’s heart thudded oddly in her chest as she turned onto their street. She felt as if she were telling someone else’s tale. “Your twin sister and her mother came here to find us because they . . . they want to establish family ties.”

  “Wait. My sister is here? How old is she? Oh, wait. My twin would be my age. Duh.”

  It was a relief to have the truth out when they pulled into the garage. Jane cut the engine and turned to her daughter.

  Harper’s eyes were round as quarters and shimmering with the sparks of connection and discovery. “I can’t believe you kept this a secret. A sister! So when do I get to meet her?”

  “You’ve met her, honey. It’s Isabel.”

  “Isabel?” Disbelief and wonder in Harper’s voice. “Isabel? Whaaaaah!” A cry of astonishment and delight. “She’s my sister? Oh my God. That’s why we look alike. My twin. Oh my God, I have a sister! Mom . . . I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  Jane took the keys from the ignition and settled back in the seat. It was going to be a long night.

  PART 3

  I prefer winter . . . when you feel the bone structure of the landscape—the loneliness of it . . . Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.

  —Andrew Wyeth

  Chapter 20

  In the beginning, Jane held herself back. It seemed that an emotional attachment to Isabel would constitute a betrayal of Hoppy, and Jane knew that first and foremost she must remain supportive of Harper. She kept reminding herself that she had no legal commitment to this girl, that it was appropriate to remain detached and cheerful. She gave Isabel the same level of affection she showed Sydney or
Emma, nothing more. On the other hand, Harper gushed over her newfound sister, thrilled to have a friend for life. To save face and privacy, they had decided to tell everyone that Isabel was a distant cousin, and no one questioned the story or cared much.

  “That explains why you two look so much alike,” Sydney noted, and that seemed to close the topic.

  The kids let Isabel in without question. Suddenly Harper, Isabel, and Jesse were a cohesive triad, sitting at the kitchen bar doing homework each day after school. Night after night, Harper finished her homework by dinnertime. She aced a vocabulary quiz and got her first B on a high school math test. Much as Jane loathed admitting it, Isabel and Jesse had helped Harper bring her grades up.

  When basketball practice began, the girls lamented that Isabel would not be on their team.

  “I wish you could play with us,” Harper kept saying. “That would be so awesome.”

  Isabel claimed to be a total klutz when it came to sports. “But I’ll come to every game and cheer you on,” she promised.

  As mid-November brought crisp temperatures, the bond warmed between the two girls, leaving Jane to feel a bit like the odd man out.

  Then the holidays approached, bringing issues without precedent. “Isabel and her mom are going to be alone for the holiday, and Chrissy is too sick to cook,” Harper reported. “Isn’t that sad?”

  “At least they’ll have each other,” Jane said, “and I’m sure they can find a nice restaurant that serves turkey.” The Zaretskys could certainly afford to have a dinner catered; when they had adopted Louisa, they had been among the top twenty wealthiest families in the Seattle area.

  “I still think it’s sad,” Harper said wistfully.

  “We’ve been on our own every Thanksgiving since you were a year old, and we’ve done just fine.”

  “I know, but that was before we knew that we had family so close by. My twin sister, Mom. Why can’t we all celebrate together? It’ll be easier for you. Isabel is a really good cook, and I bet she’d be happy to make something. Maybe the mashed potatoes.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not up for it.”

  “Come on, Mama-dish.” Harper gave her a playful nudge. “You hate peeling potatoes. Here’s your chance for a break.”

  “I’m happy for the break from school and the chance to spend time with you,” Jane said.

  “But you always tell me Thanksgiving is a time to count your blessings and pay it forward. Remember when I was little and we brought cans to the food bank?”

  “I didn’t think you remembered. You were so little.”

  “I soaked it all up and took it to heart. And now Isabel and Chrissy need our help. I have to help my sister, Mom.”

  Jane wanted to groan over that painful truth. She appreciated her daughter’s altruism, but she had trouble imagining herself as part of a happy family with Chrissy and Isabel Zaretsky. Until recently, when she had visualized her future, she had seen herself doing a figure-eight in alternating revolutions around Harper and Luke. Now, when she looked ahead, the picture was muzzy.

  In the end, Jane succumbed to Harper’s burst of goodwill and invited Isabel and her mother over for Thanksgiving dinner. How could she deny her otherwise self-absorbed teen this act of philanthropy?

  “Thank you for having us,” Chrissy said as she slowly made her way into the living room. Her hair shone with ebony color, and the blush on her cheeks hinted at a resurgence of health. The fact that she was walking on her own showed a marked improvement, but Jane erred on the side of caution and held Phoenix’s collar. One brisk leap and she could take the woman down.

  “Aren’t you a nice dog?” Chrissy said as she gingerly lowered herself to the sofa.

  “She is a gentle dog, and she sure seems to like you,” Jane said, releasing the dog with a warning to behave. The lab trotted briskly over to the older woman and pressed into her legs.

  “Oh, yes, yes. Need someone to love you up?” Chrissy leaned down and roughed Phoenix’s scruff, giving her a brisk rubbing. In her glory, Phoenix gave a tender whimper of response.

  Traitor, Jane thought, though she was not surprised that the dog liked Chrissy. The lab was a good judge of character. Yes, Chrissy had a soft heart and a firm backbone. Years ago Jane had chosen her because she was solid.

  The women talked as the girls toted covered dishes in from the car. Savory whiffs of stuffing with apples and sausage, creamed onions, and mashed red potatoes were added to the mouthwatering smell of roasted turkey that suffused the house. Jane offered wine, but Chrissy declined.

  “It’s been a good week, and I don’t want to ruin it by slipping up,” Chrissy explained.

  “You look great,” Jane encouraged her. “The roses are back in your cheeks.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Chrissy demurred, “but it’s a blessing to get through a few days without those nasty spells.” When Jane asked about her symptoms, Chrissy explained that she was often sick with sweating, vomiting, confusion, and intestinal issues. Tingling sensations on her skin gave way to numbness, and her heartbeat quickened and became irregular.

  Jane nodded sympathetically. “And the doctors can’t give you a diagnosis?”

  “I’ve given up on them, but I’m planning a trip to Seattle to see an acupuncturist who did wonders when I visited my sister last time.”

  Isabel placed a basket of rolls on the table and came to perch on the rolled arm of the sofa. She looked adorable in her tights, short pleated skirt, and pink V-neck sweater. Years ago Jane would have given anything to get Harper into an outfit that refined; now Jane was resigned to the fact that “dressed up” meant jeans without holes and a shirt without a sports decal on it. “It looks like dinner is served. Are you moms ready?”

  “I’m starving,” Jane declared. She popped the cap on a bottle of sparkling cider and poured four goblets.

  As they sat down together Isabel raised a glass to make a toast. “Thanks for having us. I’m grateful for that.” Sincerity glimmered in her blue eyes. “And I’m so happy we can all be here together. Family is everything.”

  “Hear, hear,” Chrissy agreed.

  Harper got out of her seat so that she could touch glasses with everyone. “Cheers, family.”

  Jane let herself smile as the crystal clinked. This odd matriarchy no longer seemed unsettling; they were survivors, the four of them. Strong women. It was time to let go of her anger toward Chrissy; she now realized the woman had come here out of desperation. Was she dying? Jane hoped not. But it was beyond her control.

  “Mom, do I like creamed onions?” Harper asked, staring into one of the pots Isabel had brought.

  “I’m not sure that you’ve ever had them, but give them a try. They’re delicious.”

  Isabel beamed with pride as her pale fingers smoothed the tablecloth. “I’m glad you like them.” The adulation in her gaze melted the protective shell from Jane’s heart. This kid really aimed to please; it was cruel to keep shutting her out.

  After dinner Harper invited Isabel up to her room, but Isabel suggested that they clean up first.

  “You can go, Isabel,” Chrissy said. “I’ll help Jane with the dishes.”

  “But more hands make the work go faster,” Isabel insisted, tying on an apron. “I’m happy to help.” She went to the sink and started scrubbing a baking dish.

  Jane looked up from the dishwasher to see Harper standing with her fingertips in her jeans pockets, her dark hair falling over one eye.

  “What do you want me to do, Mom?”

  Harper offering to help in the kitchen? It was a first. Jane nodded toward the drawer. “Why don’t you grab a fresh towel and dry the pots and pans.”

  Later, when the two girls were upstairs, Chrissy folded a kitchen towel, a sage light in her eyes. “I was always skeptical about the so-called bond between twins, but there’s definitely something special there.”

  Jane glanced away from Chrissy, not wanting to tell the woman that was just wishful thinking on her p
art. Despite her research about the special relationship that twins developed in utero, Jane had not noticed an extrasensory connection between Harper and Isabel. No mental telepathy or sympathetic pains. “They do seem to enjoy each other,” Jane admitted, “and Isabel has been a positive influence on Harper. Her grades are improving. And I have to tell you that Isabel has always been a model of good behavior around us. You raised her well. Though I’m sure she has her moments around you.”

  Chrissy pulled her cardigan closer and folded her arms. “Moments?”

  “Complaints and tantrums. Sulking and defiance. Most teens tend to vent on their parents.”

  “Not Isabel.”

  “Really? She doesn’t have a bad day now and then? A case of the blues? Annoyance with a teacher or fury over a social injustice?”

  “I’ve never seen it. She sails on an even keel.”

  “What about when Nick died?”

  “She was sad, but she didn’t seem to experience the anger and denial I felt. Or maybe her denial was expressed in the desire to come here and get away from the life we had in Seattle with Nick. Starting over.”

  “That would make sense. Our hearts and minds heal in different ways.” The image of Isabel grasping for a new family life tugged at Jane’s heart. The girl had spunk. Jane was reminded of her brief time with Isabel after the birth—her Louisa. Even as an infant, that calm, sure demeanor had been present. Jane had made the right choice to give her up; she could not imagine Harper’s surviving the sorrows in the Zaretsky family.

  “Isabel is my rock. I’m the one with the worries. This illness had brought me down, and I worry that I’ve pulled her down with me. But that’s changing. Now that she has things to do, so many activities with your Harper, I’ve hired an aide to come in and help out. A teenage girl shouldn’t have to spend every evening cooking and caring for her mother. This is a good thing, to give a young girl some freedom to be with friends and with her sister.”

  “That sounds like a great plan,” Jane agreed. “And Isabel seems to be enjoying her newfound freedom. The other kids have really taken to her.”