Oh God! Not the name Em used to call me too!
I groaned and leaned into the couch back, which distanced my body somewhat from hers. She was on her feet, and, nearly slipping and upturning the coffee table, she made her way to the fully stocked Penthouse kitchen, picked up a tea towel, turned on the fawcett so hard it splashed all over the counter, tile back and her face and front. She screamed, then threw her head back and laughed. I recognized the reaction.
I resigned myself not to be surprised anymore. She acted so much like Em. Somewhere in my alcohol-sloshed brain I understood that perhaps that’s how he’d picked her. But the comparisons were driving me into a moroseness I didn’t desire.
“I’m so sorry, pumpkin,” she cooed, patting my face and forehead with the wet towel.
At last a name Em hadn’t used!
“Thank you,” I mumbled into the towel, helpless to do anything else and wishing I could get that day out of my head. But with Rebecca, I wouldn’t be so lucky.
“I’m sorry I brought up something painful, Shannon. What was it? You can tell me.”
“I-I really don’t want to talk about it.”
She lowered her chin, stuck out her lower lip and gave me the puppy dog look I hated which won me over all the time with Judie. “Please?”
Danger! Danger! Pitfall ahead!
Something inside me was trying to warn me off some course of action I’d regret forever. She laced her fingers through my hair, placing it neatly behind my shoulders. She took my hand in hers and squeezed.
“Talking about it might make it better.”
“Believe me—” I started to say.
Her hand was up, taking no prisoners, shaking her head. Did she know she was really being cruel?
I pulled my paw from her grip and righted myself, cleared my throat and asked for a glass of ice water.
“Gas or no gas?”
“What?”
“Sparkling or no?”
“Sparkling if you have it.”
“Lime, lemon or orange flavored?”
All the choices right now I really didn’t want to make.
“Lime.”
“Good choice. My favorite too,” she said breathlessly as she popped two bottle tops and returned with two tumblers full of ice to pour the sparkling water into. It was the needed delay I was seeking, but I knew I wouldn’t escape.
Why had I thought of that moment when she asked about my best day ever as a teen? Again, I blamed it on the Scotch.
“Now. Spill the beans, Shannon. I promise nurse Rebecca will make it all better.”
If she only knew.
“What you don’t know is that I had an older sister. I’m not sure why but I was reminded of the day of her funeral.”
Rebecca clearly wasn’t understanding my words. Her nose scrunched up, her cheeks puckered to cover half of her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, pumpkin.”
That name again…I was starting to hate it.
“But why? I mean, how come you thought about that day?”
I searched for something desperately to say. At last I came out with words I immediately regretted.
“You kind of remind me of her.”
Rebecca moved away a couple of inches on the couch as if I was made of molten lava. Still watching me, she considered something. Then her shoulders dropped and she sighed.
“I’m so sorry, Shannon. She sounds like a wonderful person.”
That comment sobered me up all of a sudden. Of all the selfish, wrong things to say to someone who was missing her sister, that was about one of the most heartless things she could have said. I was back on top, ready to complete the mission I’d set out to do. I’d just have to be just as good a liar as she was. I could do that now.
“I think the reason I wanted to interview you partially was because of that. You do remind me of my sister. And, well, I thought I could do an interview that would do you justice, do her justice too, I guess.” I shrugged. “In a way?” I raised my eyebrows into my hairline, opened my palms up on my lap and waited for whatever was due me. I was such a sneak, such a bad person.
“I’m touched, Shannon,” she said in her breathy, sexy tone, her expression brightening, almost becoming flirtatious. But I didn’t get any sexual vibes, thank goodness. No, this woman was made of something else, and it was dark and deep. She was damaged goods, clear through. I reminded myself she was dangerous.
“I hope you didn’t take offense, Rebecca.”
“On the contrary. If I’d had a little sister, I could only hope that she would have been one half as sweet and cute as you, honey. But you’ve touched me. I want to help.”
Uh Oh. She. Said. Help.
“Tell me about her.”
“She was pretty.” I looked up at Rebecca’s eager face and the wild expression in her eyes and added, “Like you.”
“Ah, that’s nice of you to say. I’m not as pretty as I was once, but then, my next new boyfriend is going to be a plastic surgeon.”
“New boyfriend?”
“My last boyfriend was an attorney who helped me with the divorce. I am eternally grateful, too. But my next one will be a gifted surgeon who loves to travel.”
I tried to giggle but it came out more like the lament of a pained cat. I coughed and took another long sip of mineral water.
“Go on. Tell me more about her. I’m fascinated.”
“She was fun loving. She loved people, and was always the life of the party.”
“And you always felt mousy instead, am I right?”
That was not information she was entitled to. It was only half of it, anyhow. I didn’t feel mousy, I felt ignored because Em was such the favorite of my parents. I’d even told my mom one day when we argued years later that I wish I’d been the one killed so they could have had a life instead of the life they had with me. I got a slap for that comment, and then a hug, and then we both burst into tears. My mother did the best she could, but her heart was irreparably broken.
“You’re perceptive,” I lied.
“How did she die?”
“It was an auto accident.”
“Oh, so sad. You never got to say good-bye.” Her lower lip was protruding, but it almost looked like she was mocking me. I began to see more difference between her and my sister. She didn’t really have an ounce of compassion in her body.
“No. I didn’t.”
“Did she die right away, at the scene?”
The hairs at the back of my neck began to stand up. Did she have some morbid desire to dig into my pain, my past?
“Yes, we think so. My parents were devastated.”
Rebecca stood, and stared off into the dark bay, the lights of the pool and landscaped grounds reflecting back into her face, giving it a chilling light from beneath her chin like in some horror movie.
“What was her name?” she said absent-mindedly.
Did she suspect who I was? Even Marco didn’t know who I was. I scrambled, but my tongue was thick and my brain didn’t function like it normally did.
“C-Connie,” I blurted out. “Like Connie Stevens, the singer. Mom named her after her.”
Rebecca nodded, and opened the sliding glass door slowly, with cat-like movements.
“Come see the beautiful lights and the early morning air. It will be sunrise soon, Shannon.”