Holiday In the Hamptons

by Sarah Morgan

  He waited for her to say something, to tell him how she felt, but she said nothing and in the end her silence was more painful than words would have been.

  He thought about the last few weeks, the summer they’d spent. She’d started talking. Opening up. He knew he was in love with her and he’d been sure she was in love with him. But now, when her back was literally against the wall, she’d reverted to her default setting of keeping everything to herself.

  So sure, he tried one more time to reach her. “I know you’re scared—”

  “I’m not scared.”

  Exasperation gave way to bone weariness. What more did he have to do to prove to her she could trust him? What else was there for him to do? Nothing. The rest had to be up to her. And she couldn’t do it. It seemed he’d been wrong about that. “So that’s it, then.”

  There was an agonizing pause. “I guess so.”

  He wanted to argue. He wanted to hold her there until she told him the truth, but he knew in his heart, his aching, fractured heart, that if she wouldn’t trust him with her feelings, her fears and her heart, then they had nothing.

  “Be careful driving. The roads are busy.”

  “I will.” There was another painful pause. “We had a fun summer.”

  A fun summer?

  He hadn’t intended to say anything else, but he couldn’t help it. “We both know it was more than a fun summer, but you’ll pretend it didn’t mean anything, because that’s the way you choose to handle difficult things.” Frustration pricked holes in his patience. “You won’t share the fact that you’re hurting deep inside, and I know you are hurting. This relationship isn’t over because I don’t love you, or because you don’t love me. It’s over because you won’t share your fears with me. You won’t let yourself be vulnerable. And no matter how much we love each other, if you won’t talk to me then this is not going to work. And I can’t put myself through this again. I won’t.” He moved his hand from the door and opened it for her, the ache in his chest almost too much to bear. “Goodbye, Fliss.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  FEELING LIKE ROADKILL, Fliss let herself into the house. She’d checked her mirror and knew she looked like hell on the outside. The inside felt even worse. She felt as if she was torn and bleeding, her heart and her hopes ripped into shreds. Given that she seemed to have lost the ability to hide her feelings, she was hoping her grandmother might be having a nap. Or maybe even have ventured into town with one of her friends.

  That hope was dashed when the kitchen door opened.

  Fliss braced herself, but to her surprise it wasn’t her grandmother who stood there. It was her sister.

  “Harriet?” No! She couldn’t do this. Not right now. Could today get any worse? She forced herself to smile, trying to remember everything she’d once known about hiding. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Spontaneous visit.” Her sister scanned her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong. I’m fine. Now tell me why you’re here.”

  “I was worried about you.”

  “Me? I’ve never been better. Why didn’t you just text me or call? I could have saved you a journey.” And maybe spared herself the exhaustion of putting on an act. She couldn’t do this now. She had no reserves left.

  “Chase gave me a ride in the helicopter.”

  “So you’ve joined the jet set.” Fliss dropped her purse, conscious of her filthy appearance. She’d been hoping to lock herself in the bathroom and let tears flow in the shower, but it seemed that indulgence would need to be postponed until later. “Where’s Grams?”

  Maybe her grandmother could occupy Harriet while she vanished to the bathroom and pulled herself together.

  All she needed was a few minutes. A few minutes to remind herself how to pull up that drawbridge.

  “She’s upstairs. What have you been doing? You’re covered in dust.”

  “I’ve been helping Seth clear out his parents’ house.” She walked into the kitchen and made herself a coffee, hoping the caffeine would restore her energy levels. “Now tell me why you’re really here. I know you. You don’t fly from Manhattan without good reason. Love the shirt by the way. You look great in green.”

  “I’m worried.” Harriet looked at her steadily. “You’re seeing Seth again.”

  Fliss sat down. “We’re friends, that’s all.” And probably not even that. It felt as if she’d been kicked in the chest.

  “But Grams said—”

  “You know Grams. She’s a romantic. She wants a happy ending.”

  Harriet stared at her. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing. I’m telling you everything. Ninety/ten, that’s me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Nothing.” Fliss stood up, almost knocking over the chair. “I ought to go and shower.”

  “Fliss—” Harriet reached out a hand, and Fliss brushed her away. She was so close to the edge that she knew that if her sister as much as touched her, she’d fall.

  “I’m filthy. Need to wash off this dust.”

  “You’re upset—”

  “Truly I’m not.” And then she noticed the box, open on the counter. “I see Grams told you about Mom. A bit of a shock to the system. I always thought she was the one who loved Dad. Not the other way around. Poor Mom.” And poor her. What was she supposed to do with all these feelings? Put them in a box and shove them under the bed as her mother had done? If only it were that easy. “I’m surprised she kept a secret that big.”

  Harriet held her gaze. “Why would you be surprised? Keeping secrets is a family trait.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “You keep things from me.”

  “That’s not true.” Her heart was pounding. She rarely fought with her sister. Even as a child, they’d fought only when no one else was attacking.

  “You’re hiding things from me now. I came here because I was really worried about you getting involved with Seth again. I thought you might need someone to talk to.”

  “Nothing to talk about.” There it was. The ability to hide it. She was starting to remember how it was done. Deny. Conceal. Smile. Rinse and repeat. She could do this.

  Harriet leaned forward. “Something has happened! Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you tell me?”

  Because not in a million years did she want Harriet to know how bad she was feeling.

  “Nothing happened.”

  “Right.” Harriet thumped her mug down on the table and stood up. “Go take that shower. I’m going for a walk.”

  “What? Why? No!” Fliss stood up, too. What the hell had just happened? “Don’t walk out. What is wrong? You’re not behaving like yourself.”

  Harriet fumbled with the back door. “And you are behaving exactly like yourself.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Her sister turned, her eyes brimming with hurt. “Do you know why I came here? I came because I was worried. Ten years ago you were so badly hurt I was actually scared. Yes, that’s right. I was scared, Fliss.” Her voice shook. “I thought you were going to snap. Break.”

  “I was—”

  “Do not tell me you were fine, because we both know that’s not true. You were hurt, but you didn’t talk to me and I accepted that because I know that’s the way you prefer to deal with things—” She drew in a shaky breath. “But then a few months ago when Daniel told us Seth was back in Manhattan, I know what that did to you. You didn’t sleep. You didn’t eat properly. You pretended you didn’t care, because that’s what you do, but you cared. Knowing that you might bump into him at any moment pushed you right to the edge again. And the worst part of all that? Knowing that you still don’t turn to me. Even now, when something has obviously happened, you won’t turn to me. Once, just once in your life, why can’t you admit how you’re feeling?”

  She’d been doing that. And where had it got her? “You don’t need to worry about me, Harry.”

  “But I do.” Harriet’s voice cracked
. “Do you think I don’t know when you hurt? Just because you don’t trust me enough to talk about it doesn’t mean I don’t know.”

  “I trust you.” Her mouth felt dry. Her hands were shaky. “There’s no one I trust more in the world.”

  “Then why don’t you share what’s going on inside you?”

  “Because I don’t need to.”

  “Oh, for—” Harriet bit her lip, turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Fliss staring after her.

  “Wait! What the— I try and protect you—” But she was talking to herself.

  “Maybe she doesn’t always want to be protected,” her grandmother said from the doorway. “Maybe, sometimes, she’d like to be the one doing the protecting. That’s what sisters do, isn’t it? That’s what you told me.”

  Fliss felt her throat thicken. “I don’t want her to worry. I don’t want her to be hurt. Is that so wrong?”

  “A person can’t get through life without being hurt. Hurting is part of being human. Feeling pain is part of being human. We learn to cope with it, just as Seth is doing. What makes it bearable is having people around us who care. Who love.”

  “I care about Harriet. I love her!”

  “And she cares about you and loves you. But do you ever let her do that?”

  Fliss swallowed. “I try to be strong.”

  “Maybe, instead of being strong, she wants you to let her in.”

  You hide ninety percent and show ten.

  It wasn’t the same thing, she thought. With Seth it had been all about protecting herself. With Harriet, it was all about protecting her sister.

  Everyone, it seemed, wanted her to spill her feelings.

  Her grandmother poured coffee into a mug and handed it to her. “Take a shower. Wash your face. You look terrible.”

  “I feel terrible. I’ve messed everything up. I’ve upset Harriet and I’ve lost Seth.” The words tumbled out, and the next thing she knew she was being hugged by her grandmother. “I was hoping to talk to you about it, but I walked through the door and Harriet was here. And I tried to pretend everything was fine—”

  “You can talk to me,” her grandmother soothed, “but I think it would be even better if you talked to your sister.”

  “She doesn’t want to talk to me.” But Fliss knew she had to try.

  Her head throbbed, but she took the shower her grandmother had suggested, changed into clean shorts and walked down to the beach.

  Harriet was sitting on the dunes, Charlie next to her.

  For the first time ever Fliss felt nervous around her sister.

  “Harry?”

  Harriet turned her head, and Fliss saw that her eyes were red from crying.

  “I’m sorry.” Harriet pulled Charlie closer. “I didn’t mean to walk out, but you make me crazy sometimes. You think I’m so weak and pathetic I’ll break at the slightest pressure.”

  “That’s not what I think!” Fliss sank down onto the sand next to her, the long grass tickling her calves. “I love you and don’t want you to be hurt. I can’t bear it when you’re hurt. I want to protect you from that.”

  “And how do you think that makes me feel? Let me tell you it’s bad seeing your twin, your sister, the person you are closest to in the world, suffer. But what’s worse is knowing that you won’t share it with me.”

  Fliss’s eyes filled. “I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

  “So instead I was left to imagine how you must be feeling, which is worse. I’m not fragile, Fliss. I lived through the same childhood you did. And I know you protected me, so did Daniel, and I’m grateful for that, but the one thing I don’t need protecting from is your emotions. That’s totally different. And I know you’re also protecting yourself, but it doesn’t feel great to know you don’t trust me to be careful with your feelings. I’m hurt, Fliss, because even though we’re sisters, twins, you still don’t trust me enough to let me see you at your most vulnerable.”

  Fliss saw the tears in her sister’s eyes and felt her own throat close. It was bad enough that she’d screwed up her relationship with Seth, but now she’d upset Harriet. She’d made her sister cry. Her sister, whom she’d always tried to protect from hurt.

  It was the final straw.

  “I’m sorry. I never thought I was hurting you by not telling you how I felt. I thought I was doing the right thing. And I trust you. I do trust you, but—” She choked on the words. “I hurt. I hurt so badly, Harry.” She felt her sister’s arms come around her and then she hugged her tightly, holding her while she sobbed and gave Harriet a hiccupping account of everything that had happened. She let it all spill out, telling her things she’d never told her. About Seth. About the baby.

  Finally she sniffed and eased away. “I bet you’re wishing you’d never asked me to tell you what was wrong.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “I don’t wish that. Do I hate seeing you in pain? Yes. But I don’t want you to be in pain on your own. You’re my sister. You’ve always looked out for me.”

  Fliss sniffed. “I’m older than you.”

  “By three minutes.”

  “Those three minutes came with responsibility. I feel like I’m never going to be able to smile again. These last few weeks—” She leaned her head on her sister’s shoulder. “It was magical. Magical. And I messed everything up. I love him so much and it terrifies me.”

  They sat shoulder to shoulder, looking out across the ocean.

  “Vanessa shouldn’t have called you.”

  “I would have done the same. Everything she said was true.” Fliss scrubbed her cheek with her hand. “She loves her brother. I respect that.”

  “Does he know you love him?”

  “I never actually told him, but he knows. He said that if I was going to shut down when things got tough then it would never work, no matter how much we love each other.”

  “And he’s probably right about that,” Harriet said.

  Fliss winced. “You’re the romantic one. You’re supposed to tell me that it’s all going to be fine and that we’re going to live happily ever after. You’re supposed to believe that.”

  “I do believe that, but I think you have to want it to happen. And make it happen. I never said it was easy.”

  Fliss sniffed. “Isn’t he supposed to ride up here on his charger and sweep me into the sunset?”

  “You’d get sand in your eyes. And you’d probably argue about who was going to sit in front, and the horse would get bored and stomp on you.”

  “So what are you saying? I should ride over to him on my charger?”

  “I think what I’m saying is that it’s time to make a decision. How much is love worth to you? What price are you prepared to pay?” Harriet stretched out her legs. “Plenty of people go through life and never find what you have. Mom. Me. You have found it.”

  “And I’ve ruined it.”

  “No.” Harriet scrambled to her feet. “You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and get over there and tell him how you feel. You’ve never actually said those words to him. Say them! You need to find out if this can work.”

  “He already told me it wasn’t going to work.”

  “Because he was hurting. He saw you scurrying back into your fortress. I know it’s scary, but you’re brave, Fliss. I’ve seen you stand up to people twice the size of you. Look at how you were with Dad! You’re brave when it comes to defending other people, so for once in your life go and be brave for yourself.”

  “Whatever happened to sympathy?”

  “That comes later, when you’ve tried and failed. But first you need to try. What you have is too rare and special to let it go without a fight.”

  “You’re right, I’m afraid.” Fliss sucked in a breath. “I’m afraid to tell him how I really feel. I’m finding it hard to change the habit of a lifetime. I don’t think I’m very brave at all.”

  “You’re the bravest person I know.” Harriet reached down and pulled her to her feet. “And it’s natura
l to want to protect yourself. You probably always will. But don’t do it from me. And don’t do it from Seth. Go and talk to him.”

  “It feels like walking a high wire with no safety net.”

  “I’m your safety net,” Harriet said, wrapping her in her arms. “I’ll catch you if you fall.”

  * * *

  SETH WAS SANDING paint in one of the bedrooms when he heard someone at the door. Even vigorous activity hadn’t improved his mood.

  He dropped everything and pulled open the door.

  She stood there, looking more demure than usual in a flowered sundress.

  “Fliss—”

  “No. I’m Harriet, so don’t kiss me or do anything that is going to embarrass both of us.” She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, which made him wonder if it really was Harriet or if this was Fliss playing another game.

  Harriet wouldn’t just march into his house uninvited, would she? And then he took a closer look at her face and realized it really was Harriet.

  “What’s happened? Is Fliss all right?”

  “Well, it’s hard to know, isn’t it? This is Fliss we’re talking about. She doesn’t exactly wear her feelings emblazoned on a T-shirt. I’m sure it would help us both if she did. I’m here because I assume you still care about her.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I care.”

  “If you care, why did you push her away?”

  “Because she keeps her feelings in solitary confinement, under lock and key, and even I don’t have access.”

  “So she got scared,” Harriet said slowly, “but before that phone call she opened up to you, didn’t she? She opened up in a way she never has in her life before with anyone. And that includes me. Do you have any idea how hard that was for her? Do you know how long I’ve been trying to persuade her to talk to me? It feels like most of my life. And finally, finally, she does it and it ends like this.”