Page 17 of Just Like the Brontë Sisters

Chapter 11: Skylar

My sister and I had been separated from each other for far too long. Our first moment alone together came on Christmas Day, after presents had been opened, the turkey eaten, and the dishes washed and put away. We sat outside on the patio, for it was warm that year, although cold enough that we needed blankets wrapped tightly around our shoulders. We were each protected in our own cocoon, sitting on the rickety wooden chairs as the tea lights Mom had strung through the trellis cast a faint glow over Jo Beth’s face.

“So, where are you going to college?” Jo Beth asked. She’d spent all of dinner regaling us with stories of her travels: the villages she’d visited, the mountains she’d climbed, and the people she’d met. But once we were outside she immediately switched her focus to me.

“I’ve applied to Brown, Penn, and, of course, Cornell.” I shrugged. “We’ll see. I probably don’t have enough extracurriculars. The only thing I’ve ever really done is ski team.” I was trying to sound nonchalant, as if taking such a tone would make me feel less freaked.

“You should apply to Vista College. As, like, a back-up.”

“They’ve already recruited me.” Vista College is located at the base of the widest mountain in Colorado and has a very successful Nordic team in the USCSA. If I went there, my commute would be non-existent and I could ski all I want. Plus, they were offering me a scholarship. “But I want to get out of Colorado, to the East Coast. I need somewhere with a strong English Lit program. Vista College is for people who want to study sports therapy.”

Jo Beth nodded. To her credit, she didn’t try to convince me that I was crazy pursuing a major with no future, while giving up on what could be a decent skiing career.

“What about Gavin? Won’t you miss him?”

I looked down at my blanket-covered lap, so I didn’t have to meet her eyes. “We’re just friends.”

“That’s not what Gavin thinks. He stared at you all through dinner.”

“No, he didn’t.” Actually, I’d barely noticed Gavin throughout dinner and I hadn’t thought Jo Beth had either. It wasn’t until dessert time, when Gavin’s pecan pie was presented, that Jo Beth even spoke to him. “Does this have pistachios?” she’d asked.

“What?” Gavin’s cheeks turned a baby-blanket pink. “No. Of course not. Just pecans.”

Jo Beth pressed further. “What about coconut milk?”

“No. Only condensed milk,” he replied.

She nodded, satisfied, and took a piece of pie.

“Jo Beth’s allergic to pistachios and coconut milk,” I’d whispered to Gavin.

Now Jo Beth giggled and it dawned on me how much I had missed that sound. “He did stare at you and you should cut him a break. Say you’ll be his girlfriend, Sky.”

I rolled my eyes heavenward toward the mass of stars twinkling brightly in the crisp, mountain night. “I don’t want to be anyone’s girlfriend,” I replied. “And you’re the one who convinced me not to trust men.”

“But Gavin is innocuous and he’s not bad looking. You could do a lot worse.”

I didn’t think too hard about why Jo Beth suddenly encouraged me to have a boyfriend, instead I thought of the Dorothy Parker anthology I’d been reading. Dorothy would have told me not to trust Gavin; she’d have said not to trust anyone who swore his love because vows of passion are inevitably lies. Not that Gavin had ever made a move, but I could sense that he was gearing up for one. Through the sliding glass door I could see him standing at our kitchen counter, bent over what I assumed was his recipe notebook. Earlier he and Mom had been discussing a new apple sage torte and I assumed he was now jotting down ideas. He carried that recipe notebook with him everywhere, as if a sudden baking emergency might happen and he needed to be prepared.

“You should go inside,” Jo Beth continued. “Talk to him. Make him happy.”

“I’d rather talk to you. You’re not here for very long and we need to catch up.”

Jo Beth rubbed her forehead with the palm of her hand, closing her eyes while doing so. “Sky, to be honest, I have a killer headache and I could use some alone time. But I’ll still be here tomorrow and we can spend the day together. I promise.”

Her voice sounded pained, so I pushed away the stab of hurt caused by her dismissal. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”

She opened her eyes slightly and squinted at me. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to sit here for a few minutes and then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay.”

Jo Beth leaned back in her chair and reclosed her eyes, and I knew that was my cue to leave. I got up, slid the door open, and walked back into the bright warmth of my parent’s house. The smell of turkey and bread pudding still clung to the air. When Gavin heard me come in he looked up. Our eyes met and he smiled.

“Back so soon?” he asked. “I figured you and your sister would be talking for hours.”

“She’s not feeling well.” I sat on a stool by the kitchen counter and gazed down at Gavin’s notebook. “What are you writing? A recipe for that apple torte?”

He nodded and reached back to scratch the base of his neck. “I was thinking the sauce could be a caramel reduction and we could toast cheese and sprinkle that on top.”