Sybil at Sixteen Read online

  “Fine,” Claire said. “I’ll entertain myself. I’ll go shopping.”

  “Then we’re all set?” Nick asked. “Sybil, get your cane, and let’s get out of here.”

  Sybil followed Nick to the hall, and then outside. The day was already overcast. Her legs had been bad all night, between the rain and the tension. She wondered what it would do to Meg if she had to use her crutches the rest of the day. Meg would probably blame it on Linda Steinmetz. She might even have some cause.

  “I’ve never seen Megs so upset,” Sybil said as they began their walk.

  “She’s terrified,” Nick replied. “And she’s angry at Evvie as well. And Sam. You can tell Daisy anything, and if she loves you, she’ll accept it, but if she finds out she’s been lied to, she gets terribly hurt and angry.”

  “Would you have lied, the way Sam did?” Sybil asked. “To protect your mother?”

  “I used to lie for her all the time,” Nick said. “When she broke something, I’d say I did it. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it made things worse.” He stopped for a moment. “Don’t ever feel you have to protect me,” he said. “I can handle anything that comes along.”

  “I know that,” Sybil said. She did. There was nothing Nick or Claire couldn’t handle if they had to. Of course, she’d always thought that was true of all of them, but she still was sure about Nick and Claire.

  “I think Daisy’s right, though,” Nick said. “I think the possibility for disaster is enormous. And Sam and Evvie can get caught right in the middle of it.”

  “You mean they might actually get hurt?” Sybil asked.

  “It could happen,” Nick said. “I’m more worried that Sam might get arrested. I doubt they’d go down hard on him, Linda Steinmetz is his mother after all, but you never can tell. And it isn’t like he’s here, where we could help out. Evvie wouldn’t tell us where he was, although I assume she knows.”

  “She wouldn’t tell Claire and me, either,” Sybil said. “Not that we asked.”

  “Daisy asked,” Nick said. “Along with a lot of other questions Evvie didn’t answer.”

  Sybil nodded. She’d been upstairs resting when Evvie had told her story the second time. The painkillers had made her drowsy. When the choice was between being awake and in pain or asleep and in pain, she frequently chose the latter.

  “I’d feel better if I just knew where Sam was,” Nick said. “I have connections all over the country. If we needed to get him a lawyer fast, it would help if I already had some names prepared.”

  “What would Evvie do?” Sybil asked. “If Sam got hurt or arrested?”

  “I don’t know,” Nick replied. “Frankly, it worries me sick to even think about it.”

  “And it’s not just the FBI that’s after Sam’s mother,” Sybil said. “Evvie said the police are still searching for her, and there’s that reward, too.”

  “What reward?” Nick asked.

  “Evvie didn’t tell you about the reward?” Sybil asked.

  “Maybe she did, and I’ve forgotten,” Nick replied. “There was a lot I had to take in last night. And frankly, I was worried about you, too. I was distracted.”

  “I’m all right,” Sybil said. “You know this kind of weather always makes me ache.”

  “I know you’ve been through too much pain already,” Nick said. “When I was a boy, and my lies wouldn’t work, and my stepfather would beat up my mother, I’d think, ‘I’ll never love anybody again; it hurts too much to see them suffer.’ It felt worse when he hit her than when he hit me. And then, in spite of myself, I fell in love with Daisy, and then you girls were born, and the thought of any of you in pain was a nightmare to me. I hope you never know that kind of fear. Evvie’s learned it far too soon.”

  “She’s sick with worry about Sam,” Sybil said.

  Nick nodded. “It’s almost as bad as your accident,” he said. “That horrible sensation of not knowing how bad the future is going to be. Seeing someone you love in pain, and feeling so helpless to do something.”

  “You help me,” Sybil said. “You help me more than anybody. There are days when I wake up and I know what’s ahead and I dread it, and then I think of you, and I know I can manage. I do it for you, not to let you down, and that helps me do it for me.”

  “I love you, Sybil,” Nick said. “And things will get better.”

  “I know,” Sybil replied. “Just the walking helps strengthen my legs. And I’ll learn to manage the pain better with time. I’m sure of it.”

  “I’m sure of it, too,” Nick said. “We’re great at pain management, you and I.”

  “I wonder how Evvie is at it,” Sybil said. “Thea was right in a way. Evvie hasn’t had much experience with really bad times.”

  “You mentioned something about a reward,” Nick said.

  “The bank Linda Steinmetz blew up offered one,” Sybil said. “Twenty-five thousand dollars for her capture.”

  “That’s a lot of money,” Nick said. “That kind of reward could only make things worse for Sam, if the wrong people found out he was with his mother.”

  Sybil kept walking, but she glanced at her father. “What kind of wrong people?” she asked.

  “The kind who don’t care who gets hurt,” Nick replied. “Let’s look at this situation objectively. As of the moment, Sam’s all right. We don’t even know if he’s seen his mother yet. And even if he has, he’s still mobile. But if he does donate a kidney, then he’s going to be in the same hospital as his mother, recuperating from his surgery while she recuperates from hers, and if the wrong kinds of people find out—some clever police officer, or an orderly who makes the connection—then Sam couldn’t possibly escape whatever the consequences might be.”

  “Yesterday Evvie said she wished Sam’s mother would get arrested before all that happened,” Sybil said. “She said she wished she’d die.”

  “Evvie wants to protect Sam, just as Sam wants to protect his mother,” Nick declared. “Just as I want to protect Evvie, and Sam, too, for that matter.”

  “But how can you?” Sybil asked. “We don’t even know where Sam is.”

  “There must be a way of finding out,” Nick said. “Of course it would have to be done immediately. And we can’t tell Evvie. She could never feel she participated in any way, even if it is what she wants. She has to be blameless in her own eyes as well as Sam’s.”

  “She might get angry,” Sybil said.

  “I don’t think so,” Nick replied. “Not if we can keep Sam out of it. I think she’d be grateful.”

  “Wouldn’t Sam be angry, though?” Sybil asked.

  “Remember how angry you’d get at me?” Nick said. “When I’d make you do your physical therapy. When I pulled you out of one rehab place and put you in another. When I forced you to walk again, because I wouldn’t accept a life for you in a wheelchair.”

  “There were times I hated you,” Sybil said.

  “I knew you did,” Nick said. “And it killed me that you did, but it didn’t matter. It was worth it. I don’t care what Sam thinks of me for the rest of my life if I can protect him from a mistake that could prove disastrous to him. Disastrous to Evvie, for that matter.”

  “Megs would agree,” Sybil said. “It’s better to stop things now, before they get out of hand.”

  “You saw her at breakfast,” Nick said. “She’d turn Linda Steinmetz in herself if she could.”

  “Maybe we should discuss this with her,” Sybil said. “She might have some good ideas about how to find Sam.”

  Nick shook his head. “The fewer people involved the better,” he said. “And Evvie’s closer to Daisy than she is to me. Evvie’ll be angry at first. She’ll have to be, if only to prove to Sam that she’s not at fault. But even if she realizes it was my doing, then she’ll be able to focus her anger on me, and leave Daisy out of it. Sam, too. He’ll cut me off for a while, but he won’t hold it against Daisy. Eventually it’ll all work out.”

  Sybil was silent. She tried to picture her f
amily torn into pieces, Evvie and Sam on one side, Nick on another, Meg in the middle. But the picture was too easy. It felt that way already.

  “Evvie will forgive me,” Nick said. “Even if Sam doesn’t. She’ll understand I did it just to protect her.”

  “Oh, Nicky,” Sybil said. “You don’t have to make up reasons for me.”

  “You’re right,” Nick said. “I don’t.”

  Sybil knew twenty-five thousand was hardly a fortune, but Nick had turned fortunes out of a lot less. It was a stake. It would pay the bills for a while, giving him the chance to start something fresh and exciting. It would help a little bit with their debts, debts incurred through years of medical expenses caused by her accident. Nick had been a magician for so many years. Maybe this twenty-five thousand was what he needed to get his magic going again. And Sybil owed him. She owed him for all the sacrifices he had made for her. She owed him for all his love and all his time. She owed him at least twenty-five thousand more than she could ever owe Sam. Damn sisters. They don’t belong.

  Sybil belonged, all right. She belonged to Nick. “What can I do?” she asked. “Evvie won’t tell me where Sam is. There’s no point even asking.”

  “There has to be something,” Nick replied. “Some note or message left in their apartment. The name of a motel. A phone number. Even an area code. The FBI is good at their job. If I can tell them the general location, it shouldn’t be too hard for them to find a woman dying of kidney disease. Sam was in a hurry, and Evvie is careless. She’s bound to have left something.”

  “And you want me to look for it?” Sybil asked.

  “It’s up to you,” Nick said. “But if you do, I promise I’ll never tell Evvie or Sam you were the one who did.”

  “You can’t tell Megs, either,” Sybil said. “If you tell her, she’ll tell Evvie. I know she will. She’ll do it to protect you.”

  Nick stood for a moment, and clenched and unclenched his fists. “I won’t tell Daisy, either,” he said at last. “If we can find something, and Evvie assumes I’m to blame, I’ll say I did it on my own.”

  “Evvie’s at her office now,” Sybil said. “In case Sam calls. This would be a good time for me to search.”

  “You know where she keeps her spare keys?” Nick asked.

  Sybil nodded. “Next door,” she said. “Under their flowerpot.”

  Nick took out his wallet. “Take a cab,” he said. “Go easy on your legs. I’ll tell Daisy you went to the library looking for Thea. Call me from Evvie’s once you’ve found something, then go to the library, have lunch with Thea. The whole business will be over with before you ever get back.”

  “What about Megs?” Sybil asked. “Won’t the phone calls make her suspicious?”

  “I’ll send her to Clark’s,” Nick said. “She wants to tell him a thing or two, anyway. I’ll force her to do it, and then nobody will be around when you call me.”

  Sybil looked around the street, almost expecting someone, Claire maybe, or even Sam, to spot them, and stop her from her next step. But of course, no one was there, except her and her father and a few busy strangers. She took the money from her father’s outstretched hand.

  “It’s for the best,” Nick said. “We’re doing what’s right for all of us.”

  “I know that,” Sybil said, and for that moment, at least, she did.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Each step she took was a moral decision.

  Giving the cab driver the proper address was the first, then getting out when the cab arrived at Evvie’s block. Taking the spare keys from their hiding spot, an act Sybil had seen Sam do more than once, since he was always forgetting his own. Walking to the door of Evvie’s building, and unlocking it. Climbing the flight of stairs to the apartment. Unlocking that door. Walking into the empty living room.

  From her arrival at Cambridge to entering the living room couldn’t have taken more than two minutes, yet the time lasted forever for Sybil, since she had to decide whether to find the keys, enter the building, climb the stairs, unlock the door, walk into Evvie and Sam’s home, violate their privacy. She could feel their eyes on her, and even though she was obviously the only person in the apartment, she checked each room out, expecting Sam or Evvie or both of them to jump out of a closet and demand an explanation.

  For a moment she even thought Linda Steinmetz might be there, hiding from the police and the FBI and the bounty hunters. Sybil tried to picture what Sam’s mother looked like, but could only imagine a long-haired woman with guns. She had no idea if Linda Steinmetz had long hair, or had ever held a gun in her life.

  And she was happier not knowing, Sybil realized. As long as she couldn’t picture Linda Steinmetz, then there was no real person there, just a mythical creature who would never be disturbed by any action Sybil took. Linda Steinmetz hadn’t existed for over twenty years, after all. She hadn’t existed in Sybil’s universe until yesterday. Evvie might have lived with her presence a while longer, but Evvie hated Linda Steinmetz. Evvie would be grateful when Linda Steinmetz was in prison. It was best for her and for Sam. Nick was right. It was best for all of them, except maybe Linda Steinmetz, and it might be best for her, too. In prison, she could get the medical care she needed. She wouldn’t be on the run anymore.

  Sybil sat down on one of the living room chairs. She knew what running was all about. In four years, she’d been in two hospitals and five rehab centers. Five, no six, different schools. Six different states, from Oregon to Massachusetts. Seven apartments before they inherited Aunt Grace’s house. Sure, she’d kept the same name, but the doctors and nurses and physical therapists had changed over and over again. After a while, they all looked the same, but they hadn’t been. They’d demanded different things of her, caused her different sorts of pain. Sybil knew what it must have been like for Linda Steinmetz, and she suspected that any sort of a home, even a prison, would be preferable to what Sam’s mother had been going through for twenty years.

  But Sybil knew it was a lie to say she was doing this for Linda Steinmetz. It was a lie to say she was doing it for Sam, or even Evvie. She was doing it for Nick, giving him the stake he needed. Right or wrong, her loyalties were with him. Linda Steinmetz meant nothing to her, and Sam meant very little. Evvie could fend for herself. Nick was the one in trouble, and Sybil was the only one who could help.

  She forced herself to get up, and she began her search by looking around the living room. She knew she’d find nothing there, but she needed to feel more at ease, and the living room was the room she’d spent the most time in. Since moving to Boston, she’d had dinner with Sam and Evvie almost weekly. Warm, friendly, laughing evenings. Evenings filled with lies and secrets. Evenings Sybil longed to be able to return to.

  She found the Sunday paper, and rifled through it. She located a pile of Evvie’s textbooks, and flipped through them. There were books all over the place, and Sybil picked a few of them up, shook them for clues, then put them back. No clues. Not that she’d expected any.

  The telephone rang as she stood there, and she jumped with the shock. She made no effort to answer it, and the machine kicked in. Sybil could hear the message. Some friend of Sam’s wanted to know if he and Evvie were free for supper Friday night. In spite of herself, Sybil laughed.

  She went into the kitchen then, and some compulsion made her look in the refrigerator, check all the cabinets. There were still some leftovers from her birthday dinner. Meg always cooked enough for an army. Sybil found a box of cookies, and ate a couple. The taste of chocolate calmed her.

  There was nothing in the kitchen to tell her where Sam had gone. Sybil knew there wouldn’t be, but she had to check. Just in case.

  That left the bedroom, where Sybil knew she had her best chance of finding things. It felt strange and terribly wrong to go in there. She’d spent almost no time there during her visits, feeling somehow that the bedroom was Sam and Evvie’s private, and slightly sinful, sanctuary. Besides, she knew Evvie’s cleaning technique, which was to throw everyth
ing into an unused room and close the door. The bedroom door was almost always closed when Sybil came for supper.

  The door was open now, though, and Sybil walked in. Evvie hadn’t made the bed that morning, and her night-clothes were tossed in one corner. She hadn’t hung up what she’d worn the day before, either. Sybil found herself wanting to tidy up. There’d been a little period, five or six years back, when she, Thea, and Evvie had all shared a bedroom. Somewhere in Pennsylvania, before the accident. She’d tidied up for Evvie then, Thea, too, on occasion, not that they’d ever asked her to. She was just a naturally tidy person. That was one reason why it was easier when she and Claire shared a room. Claire was compulsively neat. Sybil had always appreciated that. Nick was that way also. His office never had a single paper out of place, while Meg’s kitchen frequently looked tornado-struck. Evvie and Thea were like Meg. She and Claire were like Nick. Claire wouldn’t hesitate for a moment if she wanted to find out where Sam had gone. Claire would do exactly what Sybil was doing, only efficiently and without conscience. Sybil wished with all her heart that she was Claire.

  There was nothing on the chest of drawers, except a jumble of cheap jewelry and scarves. Under the pile, though, Sybil found a photograph. She picked it up and examined it carefully.

  It was a snapshot of all of them, taken years back. Nick and Meg both looked so young, so extraordinarily beautiful. Sybil had forgotten how handsome they used to be. They were still extremely attractive, but now their hair had gray in it, and they had aged so in the past few years. Evvie looked fourteen or fifteen. Her hair was short, and it seemed to Sybil that she hadn’t let it grow until after she’d met Sam. Thea’s hair was long, though, and she had a dreamy look in her eyes, and that private smile that she used to have. Sybil had almost forgotten that smile. When had Thea stopped taking pleasure in her own universe? Claire, of course, looked the same. She was just a girl there, ten or eleven, but her eyes shone with a defiant beauty. She stood slightly apart from the others, a subtle shading that might not be apparent to strangers.