The Summer Wind - Page 46/88

“I’m not pushing you away,” Dora said defensively. Then she shrugged one shoulder insolently. “I just figured we didn’t get along.”

Harper appeared slapped. “But why? I’ve tried, God knows I’ve tried.”

“Maybe it’s just the way we were brought up. You’re from New York and I’m from Charleston.”

Harper’s voice went cold. “Don’t play that north–south card with me. It’s such a cliché, and you and I have moved way beyond those differences. This goes deeper. To trust.”

“What do you mean?”

Harper looked up at the ceiling. “Where do I begin?” She lowered her gaze and met Dora’s. “Okay, here’s a recent one. I really had fun playing video games with Nate. But you chewed me out pretty good over that without even giving me the chance to explain why I did it. FYI, games are what he likes, Dora, and what he’s good at, and there’s solid evidence it’s okay for him to play them with someone else. The operative word there, Dora, is play. He wasn’t alone. We were interacting.”

She speared Dora with another hard look. “Another example. I was the one who came up with the idea of taking Nate to the dolphin therapy program. I don’t want a thank-you and I get why it was Carson who took him to Florida.” Harper recited by rote, “She’s the one with the experience with dolphins. She knows Florida. She and Nate have this Delphine bond going on.” Her voice softened. “But it still hurt that you didn’t even consider letting me take him.” She asked Dora directly: “Would you have let me take him?”

“I . . . I . . .” Dora stammered.

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Harper answered for her. “Because you don’t trust me with Nate. You don’t even trust me with the bloody garden!”

“I don’t trust anybody with Nate!” Dora fired back. “Not even his father. Do you even know how huge it was for me to let Nate go with Carson? Letting him go was the most trust I’ve ever shown anyone. And that trust includes you. I trusted what you told me about the program. I listened to you because, well, damn it, I know you’re smart and you think things through and I respect you.”

Harper went very still.

“I was freaked out letting Nate go,” Dora said, shaking with emotion. “I still am. I miss him.” She rubbed her arms, suddenly very cold. “Please, just leave now.” She shuddered. “I’m so done with this.”

“All right. I’m done, too. I’m leaving.” Harper turned to leave. Then she swung around again.

Dora turned away.

Harper looked at her sister’s back, and her own shoulders slumped. “You’re my sister,” she said in a flat tone. “I love you. But right now, I don’t like you. Do whatever you want. I don’t care. I’m going to the coffee shop at the corner. When you’re done, meet me there and we’ll drive home.”

Harper turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Dora stood motionless in the dressing room, her body shaking with hurt and shock and anger at Harper’s outburst. How dare she say those things to her? Harper didn’t like her? Well, she didn’t like Harper much, either, she thought, grabbing her shorts and ramming her legs into them. As she fastened the button, she saw again how loose they were at the waist and hips. In a rush, she remembered the elation she’d felt at discovering she’d lost ten pounds, and how immediate and sincere Harper was with her congratulations.

And who was that girl? Dora wondered, stunned at Harper’s outburst. The mouse had roared! And Dora had to admit, she admired this side of Harper she’d never seen before. She had gumption, and that was something Dora could respect.

Dora’s anger was quickly replaced by remorse. She slumped onto the chair and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink from the sun but her hair was mousy and her Bermuda shorts and bra looked like something her mother would wear. How could she be upset with Harper when Harper was right? Dora hated the way she dressed.

Was Harper also right about those other things? Did Dora push people away? She thought of Cal. How many nights had she pushed him away, claiming fatigue and headaches? She knew plenty of women used any number of those excuses on the nights they weren’t in the mood, but it got old with Cal, and he got angry. “You’re never in the mood,” he’d complained. She couldn’t explain to him that not feeling pretty, sexy, desirable, or even feminine was often the real source of the problem. Pushing people away was easier than letting them get close.

Harper was right. Again. She had pushed her away. She’d been jealous. She’d always thought both Harper and Carson lived exciting lives. They’d traveled the world while Dora had never left the South. They were younger, slimmer, richer—or at least Harper was. Dora’s claim to fame was her marriage, her child, her stability. She’d held up the facade of her being the perfect Southern woman. Until the facade crumbled, leaving her with nothing to feel good about.

Facades were easier to maintain over distance.

But it was about time that all their facades were cracking and crumbling. Since they’d all returned to Sea Breeze, the truths were slowly being unearthed. Carson had been brutally honest, sharing the sordid details of her childhood. Harper revealed the loneliness behind the wealth of the James family. Why had Dora been ashamed to tell her sisters about the divorce?

The voice in her head that told her divorce was an embarrassing scandal, something to avoid at all costs, was the same harsh critic that whispered she was fat, not pretty. Were her insecurities what made her act so inflexible and stuck in her ways? Was she too judgmental, always finding fault and pushing people—and any hope for happiness—away?

She brought her hands to her face. In the past week she’d caught a glimpse of how her life could change. She liked the way she was beginning to feel about herself. In her reflection she was catching a glimpse of the young girl she once was. The girl who had confidence and dreams. The girl who believed anything was possible.

How could she break the old patterns that had grown like kudzu vines around her heart? How could she quiet the negative voices and listen to the positive ones?

Dora dropped her hands and slowly raised her eyes to the dresses hanging on the wall hooks. Harper had told her she had looked pretty in the dresses. Devlin had told her she was beautiful. When was she going to start believing?