The Lives Between Us Read online

  “Come on, Skylar. Think outside the box.” She tapped the pen against her lip. Something more personal. Too bad Facebook wasn’t around when Hastings had been in college.

  “All right. Let’s go at this backwards.” She blew out a deep breath, got out a legal pad, and diagramed a long timeline. “Senator Hastings, this is your life.”

  * * *

  After weeks of diligently answering Dear Darlene letters, Skye really looked forward to this dinner with Jenny. She glanced at the car clock and decided she had time for a short visit with Faith before meeting her friend.

  Skye drove down the leaf-strewn street past houses draped in sticky white spider webs and huge spiders clinging to houses. Bleached bone skeletons dangled from trees or lay in the grass. A wide variety of silly, scary, artistic, Jack-o-Lanterns guarded porch steps, waiting for their debut just a few nights from now.

  Skye frowned and turned away from a neighbor’s display of white ghosts floating across a lawn littered with tombstones. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. The last tombstone she’d seen had been Niki’s.

  Niki had loved Halloween—not so much for the candy, but the opportunity to dress up and be something other than a sick little girl. In costume—for even just one day—she’d been normal.

  Skye knocked on the door of her sister’s plain Cape Cod-style home. Without waiting for a response, she pushed through the unlocked back door and climbed the few steps to the hallway. Skye trailed a finger along the pine bookcase Mom had refinished during her antiquing phase. She’d given it a washed green finish, but later Faith had painted chains of delicate daisies, blue bells, and baby’s breath to accent the corners.

  Skye had framed a photo of toddler Niki, cuddled with her favorite blanket and fast asleep, on the bottom shelf. Seeing those plump redbud lips and flushed chubby cheeks made Skye’s arms ache in loneliness. Was there any better feeling than the weight of a trusting, sweet baby snuggled close?

  She sighed. First Mom, then Dad, and now Niki. It wasn’t fair.

  Skye hadn’t seen Faith and Peter since the funeral, though they talked frequently on the phone. Being with them without Niki was too hard. Going from a family with a child to one without any left a painful void, and all attempts to comfort each other just felt awkward —like they were trying too hard to be okay. So Skye avoided her sister and brother-in-law. But Thanksgiving would soon be here, and she couldn’t hide anymore.

  “Hey, it’s me.” Skye called out. “Faith? Peter?”

  In the kitchen, she paused at the granite countertop long enough to read a note from Pete telling Faith that he’d run out to the grocery store.

  “Faith?” Skye moved into the family room. “I only have a little time before I have to meet Jenny.” She stopped in the doorway, smiling, when she saw her sister sleeping on the couch.

  Faith blinked and brushed straight blond hair from her eyes. As she swung her feet off the couch and arched her back in a leisurely stretch, the knitted afghan blanketing her lap slid to the floor.

  Skye stared at the distinct bulge of Faith’s rounded belly and stumbled backward, tripping over a footstool. She grabbed the edge of a recliner to steady herself. “You’re pregnant!”

  “Hello to you, too.”

  Skye stood frozen, gaze fixated on her stomach, as Faith crossed the room and pulled her close for a tight hug. Jerking back, Skye glared down at Faith’s distended tummy.

  “You’re pregnant,” she accused again, daring Faith to deny the obvious. “Your body doesn’t like being pregnant.”

  “It’s okay; I’m married.” Faith arched an eyebrow. “To the father.”

  “That's not funny.” Skye shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Holy shit. Faith was pregnant. She couldn’t stop staring in horror at her sister’s beach ball-shaped belly. “You’re pregnant.”

  Faith’s smile faded. “I know.”

  “Why didn’t I know?”

  “Because it’s not your baby?”

  Skye’s scowl deepened. “How did this happen?”

  “With a petri dish and a dirty magazine.”

  “What? Ew.” Skye’s face crumpled into lines of disgust. “Not funny. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Faith sighed and dropped to the couch. Sitting cross-legged, she patted the seat next to her. Though she was too charged up to sit still, Skye wanted to hear what possible rationale Faith had for taking such a risk.

  Faith took a deep breath and looked at her. “I tried to tell you earlier, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to upset you, and I didn’t want you trying to talk me out of it, and then Niki died and I just couldn’t find the right time.”

  “You mean that wasn’t an accident?” As she pointed at Faith’s belly, her eyes widened in comprehension. “This was your grand plan? This is how you were going to save Nik?”

  Faith nodded. “We had to try something. We couldn’t just sit back and watch her die.”

  “And this was it? To make compatible stem cells for Niki?” A sibling would be the next best thing to using one’s own stem cells. A sibling could kill Faith. Then additional weaknesses of the plan hit Skye. “There wasn’t enough time. Niki wouldn’t have lasted the duration of a pregnancy and even if, by some miracle, she had made it to the birth, it would have taken months for the cells to replicate to make enough cells to seed her heart.”

  There hadn’t been enough time. But then again... Skye’s gaze narrowed on her sister’s large stomach; they may have started their flawed plan long before even letting Skye know they’d had a plan.

  “When are you due?”

  “With placental cord blood cells, that’s true,” Faith began, “but we also—”

  “You’ve got to be at least eight months pregnant. How could you hide that from me?” Skye didn’t even try to conceal the hurt in her voice. “Exactly how far along are you, Faith?”

  Faith looked about big enough to deliver. How could that be? Sure she’d noticed Faith getting pudgy, but she’d chalked that up to stress eating. Skye couldn’t have been that distracted at Niki’s funeral to miss such an obviously rounded stomach, but apparently so. Pete and Faith hadn’t trusted her.

  Faith looked away, suddenly intent on poking holes through the afghan in her lap and twisting the blanket into a tight knot. She peeked sideways at Skye, giving her a guilty look reminiscent of the time she’d accidentally dropped Skye's goldfish, Mortimer, down the disposal.

  Skye’s heart sank. What? What could be worse than pregnant?

  “I’m just beginning my sixth month...with, um…twins.”

  “Twins?” Skye blinked and then shot off the couch. Energy zipped through her body like an electric shock, throwing her heart into a furious rhythm and revving her muscles. Two quick strides took her to the TV; she whirled and marched to the leather easy chair, then whipped back to the TV.

  “Are you crazy?” She threw a hand out. “Of course you are. One baby would be bad enough, but twins?” She stopped pacing. “Are you sure?”

  Faith nodded.

  Twins meant twice the amount of hormones, twice the stress on Faith’s body. Hypertension. Seizures. Stroke. Coma. She gulped back fearful tears. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. My blood pressure’s fine.”

  “Why?” Niki’s dead. She still couldn’t say it out loud. “Why’re you doing this? Twins will kill you.”

  “Skylar, stop the histrionics and sit down,” Faith said in her stern parental voice, the voice she rarely used, but pulled out when she needed to be firm or impart bad news.

  Skye leashed her panic and sat on the edge of the couch.

  “I’m not going to die,” Faith stated calmly. “Niki was so sick; we had to try something. So we made the babies for cells for Niki—and immediately gave the rest of the embryos away for research. Three of them were good matches for Niki, minimizing the worry of rejection... We never thought they’d take, but—”

  “I get all that,” Skye broke in. “But it’s too late.”
>
  Faith’s face clouded and tears filled her eyes. “I know.”

  “And you’re pregnant.”

  “I know.”

  “With twins.”

  Faith smiled and placed a caressing hand on her stomach as she lay back. “We always wanted a larger family.”

  Her sister’s loving indulgence in her pregnancy sickened Skye. She clamped her jaw shut to keep from railing hurtful words hard to recant. Under ordinary circumstances, Skye would have rejoiced at the news that she was going to be an aunt again, but these were nowhere near ordinary circumstances. Being pregnant with Niki had nearly killed Faith.

  When her sister’s eyes had rolled back in her head as her pregnant body dropped to the floor convulsing violently, Skye had been scared to death. She’d had no idea what to do. And even when the emergency operator had calmly reassured her that help was on the way, Skye had sat trembling next to her sister’s prone, jerking body, freaking out. She’d barely been able to talk to the 911 operator.

  Faith nearly died from eclampsia. Her reaction had been so severe, the doctor warned them that another pregnancy would jeopardize her life.

  Faith would die just as Niki had.

  It wasn’t fair. Niki was just a kid. Yet she’d died. And now so could Faith.

  “You can’t do this.” Eyes wide, Skye gulped rapid breaths and whispered, “I can’t do this again.” Her heart pounded.

  “Skylar, calm down. You’re going to hyperventilate.”

  She’d lost Niki to an unfair roll of the dice, but Faith deliberately put herself at risk. Anger replaced the cold fear. Skye wagged her finger in warning. “Don’t go twisting this around, making it about me. You screwed up.”

  “It’s not all about you, Skylar,” Faith admonished.

  Skye scowled at her sister and pursed her lips against the tears choking her throat and pricking her eyes. “Okay, so I’m being selfish. So it is all about me. What about me? What about Peter? We just lost Niki. What’re we supposed to do without you?”

  “You’re not going to be without me.”

  Yes, they would. Faith would die and all for what, replacement babies? It was wrong. Unthinkable. You couldn’t replace people like dead hamsters and goldfish.

  “You can’t just replace Niki. It’s not that easy,” she lashed out.

  “Is that what you think? You think we had these babies as back-ups in case we couldn’t save Niki?” Faith scowled at her. “That’s low, Skye.”

  It was low but probably true. It might even have been an unconscious motive behind the pregnancy, but when jeopardizing her life, Faith should at least be honest. Skye’s arms crossed tightly over her quivering stomach. “Well, didn’t you?”

  Faith’s face tightened into a hard mask. “We were trying to save our daughter’s life. I don’t have a death wish, but I’d have done anything to save Niki. Anything. And I’m thrilled to bring these two precious babies into our family—even with the associated difficulties. We made a calculated decision in getting pregnant, and if it meant trading my life for Niki’s—” She raised her chin and glared at Skye. “Then so be it.”

  Skye reared back from her sister’s vehemence. So this was it; the end of her family. What would Skye do without her? No Faith to celebrate her successes or to sympathize and cheer her up when she had a bad day. No sister to give her advice and to call her out when she’s being mean or selfish. There was no replacement for Faith. No one who shared their childhood memories. No one to help her remember Mom and Dad.

  Skye’s mouth dropped open. And what about Peter? He’d be left all alone with consuming grief and two demanding newborns he’d have to care and provide for. Naturally Skye would help, but what kind of consolation was that? And the twins? Skye spent half her life without her mother and that had been really tough.

  Faith loved her and had done her best to fill in, but it wasn’t the same. But with the twins never having known a mother, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—they wouldn’t know what they were missing. That’s a lie. The second they were around other kids and their moms, they’d know. They’d feel the loss. Skye wouldn’t choose that for any kid.

  Given Faith’s heated words, Skye decided not to point any of this out. Faith was determined and there was nothing Skye could do or say to change her mind. There was nothing to be done—the babies were there, curled warmly under her sister’s heart. Damn.

  Skye wanted to say something positive. She wanted to be a bigger person, but she was at a total loss. What she could say that wouldn’t be a lie? She reached into her pocket for her car keys and headed for the side door. “I have to go. I’m late.”

  Chapter 5

  After ten minutes spent in the car practicing deep breathing, Skye calmed enough to drive to the restaurant where she was to meet Jenny. Crap, Faith was pregnant and Skye was an advice columnist. God had a sense of humor, all right. What next?

  Skye’s phone rang as she pushed through the glass door of Luigi’s Italian restaurant. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Jenny. I’m running a little late. Why don’t you get us a table? I shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes.”

  Skye wove her way around chatting people on the front porch entrance, into the busy dining room. A few families with antsy children occupied the center of the room, while couples cozily huddled together ensconced in booths.

  Skye preferred a booth, but there was undoubtedly a waiting list already. She moved out of the way of a waitress bearing a large tray of delicious smelling garlic, cheesy dinners, to peer across the crowded room. “It’s packed. How do you feel about eating at the bar?”

  “Fine with me.”

  “See ya later.” Skye tapped the OFF button. Weaving in between chairs and tables, she made her way to the bar. She slid onto an iron stool and placed her scarf over the back of her seat, then took off her coat and draped it over Jenny’s chair.

  The pretty blond bartender slipped a square paper napkin before her. “What can I get you?”

  “Peroni, please. Is it okay if my friend and I eat here?”

  “Sure, no problem.” She handed her a tall, folded menu.

  Skye took a big gulp of her bitter beer and looked at the people around her. A couple to her left snuggled close, feeding each other bits of nachos Napoli. At first glance they were cute, but when they continued to giggle and remained utterly absorbed in each other, Skye suppressed the urge to gag.

  She took another sip of her beer. The family to her right had an infant baby sleeping in his car seat while Mom and Dad chatted. Her heart squeezed tightly at the sight of big sister fishing in her drink for maraschino cherries that’d sunk to the bottom of her glass. Skye’d often seen that same determined frown crease Niki’s face, as her small hand plunged through the sticky soda to claim her prize.

  Niki had loved Shirley Temples and always insisted on extra cherries to share with her. Skye never had the heart to tell her she didn’t like the cherries. She blinked and looked away. She’d eat a whole case of the wretched candy cherries in a heartbeat, if it’d bring Niki back.

  “Hi.” A man slid onto the stool to her left. Tall and rail thin, the redhead sported a cocky grin under a neatly trimmed moustache.

  Skye started as if a cold glass of water had been dumped on her, instantly feeling supremely annoyed. She sipped her beer while considering not answering. After the day she’d had, Skye was hardly in a sociable mood, yet she couldn’t bring herself to that level of rudeness. “Hi.”

  “Buy you a drink?”

  She lifted her beer. “I have one.”

  “Another?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks.” Skye picked up the menu and took her time studying her choices. Grilled Portobello Arancini Duo sounded good, but then again so did the artichoke hearts. The bruschetta was always wonderful... Perhaps she’d make a meal of appetizers. She deserved a little comfort food tonight.

  “What’s a beautiful girl like you doing drinking alone?”

  She’d heard cheesier come-ons—but not
many. “Waiting for a friend.”

  “Male or female?” He leaned closer and smiled.

  His too-white teeth flashed, reminding her of a circling, snapping shark. Skye wished for a cattle prod to zap him out of her personal space. “What?”

  “Your friend. Male or female?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Only if it gets in the way of our getting to know each other. I’m Alan.” He held out his hand. “And you are?”

  Skye grabbed her purse and slid off the stool. “Going to the restroom.”

  * * *

  Mark Dutton walked in through Luigi’s front door. The cook spotted him through the takeout window. “Hey, Mark. We’re runnin’ a little behind. Be another fifteen minutes. Sorry, man.”

  “No problem. I’ll be at the bar.” He entered the restaurant, skirted around hustling waitresses, and crossed the crowded room to the far side of the bar. “How’s it going, Cindy?”

  “Busy. Can I get you something?”

  “Just a water, please.”

  Mark looked down the length of the bar until his gaze settled on a familiar face. He tilted his head, trying to place the woman. TV. Ed’s press conference. She was the reporter harassing Ed at the airport. What was her name? S something. Something unusual. Skylar? Mark looked away, not wanting to get caught staring.

  He wondered if she lived in the neighborhood; he’d never seen her here before. Mark lifted his drink and allowed his gaze to casually scan the room, traveling in her direction. He drank the water and set the glass down. Wow, Ed’s nemesis was even more attractive in person.

  Pretty face. High cheekbones, rich, wavy brown hair, and wide-set eyes. He couldn’t see the color from here, but he’d bet on brown—maybe hazel. Full, ripe lips that begged to be tasted. Nope, he’d have remembered her.

  Mark never believed much in coincidences but wasn’t about to let this opportunity slide away unappreciated. He sipped his water, watching, deciding how to best take advantage of his good fortune.