Jane stayed silent beside her cousin, processing Sara’s pain without resenting her for it.
Sara finally clasped her hands in her lap and turned back to her cousin, speaking softly, rapidly, unable to look Jane in the eyes. “Lars never made a move on me. He came to my trailer and I was already in my underwear. I threw myself at him. He didn’t kiss me.”
“I know.”
“And that recording? I was basically blackmailing him. I said if he didn’t make me happy, I’d have him fired. He only said all of that stupid stuff about coming to New York to buy time. He never would have followed through. He doesn’t care a thing about me.”
For a second, just a brief, sweet second, Jane had a vision of what life could have been like for the cousins, and she realized, if she left Sara now, that someday, somehow, that vision might come true.
“I’m not going with you, Sara,” Jane whispered, looking at her cousin’s lovely profile. “I’m not leaving him.”
“You’re staying here?” she asked, and if Jane wasn’t mistaken, a flicker of hope brightened Sara’s eyes.
“I am.”
Sara bit her lip. “Until my dad forces you to come back, Jane. He’s going to be—”
“Furious. He made that clear. He probably won’t talk to me for a while.” Jane shrugged, still staring, glassy-eyed, at her cousin’s face. “Maybe forever.”
“Not forever, dummy. God, you are so dramatic.” Sara rolled her eyes, standing up and readjusting the unfamiliar weight of her own carry-on bag on her own shoulder. “Your uncow—that goddamn, stupid name that I hate—” She took a deep breath and refocused. “He’ll cave, Jane. Eventually he’ll miss your boring chats about world news and books and art and shit…and he’ll break down, give you a call, check in to see how you’re doing…”
“I don’t think so. He’s going to be very angry with me for a very long time.”
Sara made a disgusted noise, crossing her arms and sighing loudly again. She tilted her head to the side, pursing her lips.
“You’re so fucking annoying, Jane. Look at you. Look at that miserable face. You know what? You’re useless to me like this anyway. I can’t have you representing me if you’re going to be all sad and depressed and…and blotchy. Blecccch. You may as well just stay here. I don’t want some useless, mopey assistant following me around.” Sara picked a nonexistent piece of lint off her t-shirt. “So, you’re fired. I’m promoting Laney. It’s my choice. Not yours.”
Jane searched Sara’s face and Sara tried not to smile as she took her phone out of her back pocket and dialed, waiting a moment for someone to answer.
“Hi, Daddy, it’s Sara. Yeah, we’re at the airport. Yeah, she’s here. Well, thanks for making it happen, but here’s the thing…I changed my mind. I fired her. Yes, Jane. Who else? No, I don’t want her to come back with me. Because I don’t want her to be my assistant anymore. I want Laney. Laney. Well, I thank you for trying to help, but it’s not your decision, Daddy, is it? Jane’s staying here in Minnesota for a while. I don’t know. I don’t know. Fine! I’ll ask her.” She covered the phone with her hand and whispered, “Are you coming home for Thanksgiving?”
Tears filled Jane’s eyes as she nodded at Spectacular Sara. And then something happened that hadn’t happened in a very, very long time…in almost fifteen years. Sara Mays relaxed her shoulders and smiled at Jane Mays like she didn’t hate her so much, which made Jane smile back at Sara.
“She said yes, but I imagine she might be bringing a friend with her.” There was a long pause, then, and Jane could hear her uncle’s muffled voice on the other end of the line. She saw Sara smile as her eyes filled with tears, and her voice was very small when she spoke again. “Just you and me? Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’d love it. I-I love you too, Daddy. Yep. I’ll call when I’m home.”
Sara pressed the End button and looked up at Jane, her violet eyes bright with surprised tears. “He said he’s taking me out to dinner on Wednesday night. Just him and me. I can’t remember the last time…”
“He’s all yours, Sara. The way it was supposed to be.” Tears spilled out of Jane’s eyes as she smiled at her cousin. “I think it’s going to be okay now.”
Sara took a deep breath and pushed Jane’s curls off her forehead. “You were always the smart one, Janie.”
“And you were always the pretty one.” She smiled at her beautiful cousin and added, “Thanks for making that phone call.”
“I didn’t do that just for you. Look what I got out of it: dinner with my daddy!” She chuckled, then cupped Jane’s cheeks and tilted her head to the side, looking at her cousin closely like modeling agents were always looking at her. “You know, I think Minnesota’s been good for you, Janie.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“See you at Thanksgiving, Cousin Sara,” said Jane, grinning.
“See you then, Cousin Jane,” smiled Sara.
As Jane turned to cross back over to the parking lot and find Mr. Lindstrom, she heard the dulcet tones of the supermodel known as Samara Amaya bellow: “Sebastian! WATER! NOW!”
And all was right with the world.
***
“Key’s under the mat, Jane,” Mr. Lindstrom grinned at her as Jane unbuckled her seat belt. “Wish I could take you down to Yeller to look for him, but I got a mess of work to do back at the office. Got no idea where he’s at anyhow. No telling when he’ll be back. He was hurtin’ pretty bad this morning.”
Jane nodded. “I’m sorry for that.”
“I suspect Midten’ll be beside himself when he sees you, girl. Go easy on him.”
“Will do,” she said, hopping down.
“Sunday dinner, Janie,” said Mr. Lindstrom, staring straight ahead. “Whole family gets together every week. Expect to see you there.”
“F-family dinner? Me?” she asked, her voice thready with emotion.
“Like I said,” he repeated, smiling at her gently. “See you there.”
She waved goodbye as he backed out of the driveway and pulled away.
Jane let herself in Lars’s house and closed the door behind her, walking back to the bedroom to drop her bags. She deposited them at the foot of the bed and sighed, thinking about how they’d left things this morning. He was so angry with her, so cool. She was desperate to see him again and set things right between them.
She picked up the picture on the bureau of Lars with his siblings, looking at the faces of the children closely. Nils, towering over his brothers and sister, didn’t smile. His eyes were clear and focused, his jaw square, and he had his arm around Lars, resting his hand on Erik’s small shoulder. She guessed Erik to be about seven years old, which would make Lars nine and Nils twelve…and Jenny five. Jenny smiled with the fresh-faced exuberance of a happy little girl, her hand clasped in Erik’s, her blonde braids falling past her shoulders. Erik smiled too, but his head tilted softly to the side, toward Jenny, and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, as though he was trying to please someone, but wary. Finally Jane stared at young Lars, so handsome even at nine years old, and realized he was the easiest of the four, the most carefree. He didn’t smile, he grinned, and his eyes crinkled. He didn’t have his arms around anyone or hold anyone’s hand. He was the only one of the four who held ski poles, and looked ready to tear down a mountainside as soon as the photo was taken. Happy to take a picture. Happy to go back to skiing. Happy to be alive.