The Secrets Sisters Keep Read Online Free PDF

“Have a happy day. I’ll see you later. I have a lot to tend to.”
    And that was the last time Ellie had seen Uncle Edward as he’d dunked another toast point, taken another sip of tea, and turned to page two.
    Rinsing her hair now, soaping up her body, Ellie felt slow sadness seeping in. What if Edward wasn’t playing a game, what if something had really happened? Was it possible? He could have become ill . . . there could have been an accident . . . though why on earth was she spending time thinking about this now, when obviously the answer was not yet apparent, and she had so much to do? And so many people . . . Amanda, Babe . . . Carleen . . . ?
    She closed her eyes and let her tears rain down her cheeks, her throat, and her saggy breasts as she privately called them, though they really were only, what? Thirty-five? Had she been twelve when she’d begun to sprout? Why did she barely recall being twelve? Or fourteen? She only remembered how she’d longed to travel to Egypt, to explore, to discover, to unlock ancient mysteries and reveal hidden truths. It had seemed so romantic to a young girl who’d spent so much time taking care of three younger sisters. Three younger sisters and then Uncle Edward.
    Grabbing for a washcloth, Ellie wept. She wept for the childhood that was long past her now, for her unmet dreams of joy and love. Of the four sisters, only Ellie had wound up alone, alone with saggy breasts and thick legs and a spongy bottom and a big bucket of nothing that her life had become.
    And now, if Edward was gone . . .
    She wept some more, her denial washing away, layer by layer, circling the drain in a great sucking vortex. What was she going to do with her life if, when , Edward, her shield from the world—yes, she’d known all along that he’d been a shield—was nothing more than a few cupfuls of ashes sealed in a marble urn?
    T wenty minutes later, Ellie pushed herself into a cotton shirt and skirt that were pale aqua and matched her eyes. She brushed her wispy curls, which had once been light brown but were now woven with silver. She applied a light layer of pastel peach lipstick and decided she was as ready as she’d ever be: tears dried, mask of contentment back in place.
    After checking with Martina (“No, your uncle eees no return ”), Ellie took a deep, get-ready-breath and guided her Birkenstocks to Amanda’s room.
    “I have no idea where Edward is,” Ellie announced after Amanda ordered her in. Perching on the window seat that overlooked the driveway, Ellie realized that even as a child, Amanda had always needed an unobscured view, needed to feel in control of something, or at least to be on the lookout in case a shoe dropped. The driveway was quiet now, but it would soon enough be stacked with Mercedes and Jaguars and one or two shiny Bentleys.
    “Well, this is absurd.” Amanda sat up, plumped a satin pillow, and dangled her legs from the edge of the four-poster bed. She looked worse than she had at Christmas. Two years younger than Ellie, she now appeared older, with pronounced lines at her eyes and mouth and no sign of Botox or even a peel. The lines were, perhaps, a product of marriage or maybe motherhood.
    Ellie shrugged. “It’s his party. I guess he can disappear if he wants to.”
    Of course that incensed Amanda, who bolted to her feet and started pacing, an asinine routine the woman had perfected. In the past few years, she’d added a vigorous wringing of her hands. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s invited two hundred people— VIP people, or at least they once were. Why would he disappear?”
    Ellie could have commented, “Why has Uncle Edward ever done anything?” but decided it would be more positive to defend him. Positive for him, annoying as hell for Amanda. “He’s probably distressed over the excitement . . . you know, the anticipation. I’m sure he’ll be home in time for dinner.”
    “Is that man with him?”
    “Really, Amanda. That man has