Chapter 3
Three weeks later, Ethan was back in town for work.
We had dinner reservations for seven. I left the office early, closed my laptop with a few emails still unanswered, and changed into the black dress he used to say made every restaurant feel like an occasion.
At 6:20, my phone lit up.
Ethan: Vanessa's car won't start. I'm going to help her. We may need to push dinner.
I stared at the message with one earring still in my hand.
Vanessa had left the apartment an hour earlier for a client event.
She had not called me.
She had called Ethan.
I phoned him.
"She's in a parking garage downtown,"
he said. Traffic hummed behind him.
"Roadside assistance said forty-five minutes, and she's supposed to be at that event by seven. "
"So you're going? "
"I'm already on my way. "
I set the earring on the dresser. The small gold hoop rolled once before stopping against my perfume bottle.
"You and I had plans. "
"I know. I'll make it up to you. "
There was no hesitation in his voice. No sense that a choice had even been made.
By the time Vanessa came home, it was almost ten.
I was back in jeans, the black dress folded over a chair.
She carried her heels in one hand and Ethan's umbrella in the other.
"He saved me,"
she said, smiling as she dropped her bag.
"The battery was completely dead. "
"You called him first. "
Her smile faded slightly.
"He was closer. "
"He was at his hotel. "
"And you were at home. "
The answer came quickly enough that I wondered whether she had already prepared it.
I looked at the umbrella.
I had bought it for Ethan after we got caught in a storm during college. Vanessa hooked it over the chair as if it belonged there.
"I would have come. "
"I know. "
She tucked her hair behind one ear.
"But Ethan knows cars, and I was late. I really didn't think it was a big deal. "
Ethan arrived ten minutes later.
"Why was she calling you instead of me? "
I asked.
He loosened his tie.
"Because I could help. "
"That isn't what I asked. "
"She's your sister. Why are you making this weird? "
The words landed harder than I expected.
I had heard versions of them my whole life.
Why make a fuss?
Why can't you let it go?
Why does it matter?
Ethan stepped toward me, but I moved past him and picked up the black dress. I folded it again, pressing the fabric flat with both palms.
Vanessa watched from the kitchen.
"I thought we were basically family,"
she said.
"I didn't realize I needed permission to ask him for help. "
Neither of them seemed to understand that the problem was not a dead battery.
Later, my mother called after Vanessa mentioned the argument.
"Don't create problems where there aren't any,"
she said.
"Ethan was being kind. "
I ended the call before she could tell me to be the easier one.
That night, Ethan and I lay on opposite sides of my bed.
He had been talking about work when he said, almost casually,
"Vanessa's presentation went well, by the way. Her director might put her on the Mercer account. "
I turned toward him.
"What Mercer account? "
Ethan went still.
And I realized he knew something about my sister's career that she had never told me.