The Starfish Sisters: A Novel(14)

She prepares her coffee precisely and takes a sip. Then: “What if I hate it?” More quietly: “What if Jasmine hates it?”

“I don’t think either of those things will happen,” I say, “but if they do, you can make a different decision.”

“I feel like I’m ripping her away from you.”

I let go of a soft laugh. “Well, because you are. But we’ll all be okay. I’ll come visit. By then, you’ll know where all the best pubs are.”

“But I don’t even drink! What am I going to do in pubs? In a culture that revolves around pubs?”

Finally, she’s getting real. “You go to bars with your friends here. What do you do then?”

She sucks her upper lip into her mouth, a habit she’s had since youngest childhood, and sighs. “I know. I’m worried that I’m being rash.”

“You’ve never done a rash thing in your life.” This time I do touch her hand. “What if you totally love it?”

Jasmine climbs into the chair beside her mother and leans on her arm. “I’m going to miss you,” she says. “It’s so far away.”

“Aw. My girl.” Stephanie lifts her arm so Jasmine can lean into her shoulder, and kisses her head. “You can call me anytime, okay? Anytime. I will pick up.”

“What if you’re asleep?”

“Call back.”

“Can we have a cat when we get there?”

Steph chuckles. “Maybe.”

Jasmine smiles and lifts her face for a kiss, which Steph drops on her nose. In this, she is not like my mother at all. Sylvia was not affectionate. She wasn’t hostile, but she didn’t like to cuddle and I did. Luckily, my father and grandmother made up for it.

The doorbell rings, and Maui leaps to his feet, barking.

“Come in!” I call.

Stephanie says, “It’s so weird that you live like that, never locking your door.”

Suze peeks around the door. “Am I interrupting?”

“Auntie Suze!” Jasmine cries, and flies across the room. “You’re home! Are you staying? Are you just visiting?”

“I’m staying for a little while.” Suze scoops her up into a hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, beautiful girl!”

“Want some coffee?” I ask.

“Sure.” Tangled in Jasmine, she walks with the bouncing girl into the kitchen. “Hi, Steph,” she says, and drops a kiss on her head. “You look fantastic, as ever.”

“Thank you. So do you.”

“Auntie Suze!” Jasmine says, leaning on the counter. “I saw you on TikTok!”

“What were you doing on TikTok?” Stephanie says. “I told you not to go there.”

“It was at Ashley’s house. Just for a minute, and we were practicing the TikTok dance, and then I saw Auntie Suze, and then I had to watch.” She plants her palms on the counter and lifts herself up until her feet dangle. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Suze tangles her hand in Jasmine’s long, curly ponytail, touches her nape. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’m good.”

“And they said somebody beat you up—”

“Jasmine,” Stephanie says, sharply.

In an echo of her mother, Jasmine sucks her top lip into her mouth. “Sorry.”

Stephanie says, “Go get your iPad and bring it to me.”

“It wasn’t on my iPad! It was on Ashley’s.”

“Now.”

She huffs. “Fine.”

Stephanie waits until Jasmine is upstairs. “I am so sorry, Suze. She doesn’t get it, but I’m sorry you—”

“It’s really fine.” Suze shakes her head.

Stephanie is blushing slightly. She’s dazzled by Suze’s celebrity even when she knows it’s silly, that she’s known her all her life. But she wants to do things right even more when Suze is around than she usually does, and that’s a pretty tall order.

And it’s not like it isn’t easy to be dazzled by my old friend, even now, when she’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeved Henley T-shirt and no makeup whatsoever. In the even northern light of the window, she’s illuminated, the elegant swoop of cheekbones and jaw, those aqua eyes, her still-lush mouth. We’re the same age, so I know she must have done a few things—eyelids, maybe, and her jaw, something to erase the lines on her décolletage. She’s stunningly, staggeringly beautiful, as she always has been. There have been many times over the years that I envied the power that beauty commanded, but it never lingers. I’ve also seen the torture it has conjured in her life. People want to own beauty, make it their own, ruin it if they can’t possess it.

In such simple clothing, her gauntness is accentuated. Her collarbones look ready to set sail. She’s always been a person who lost weight under trying circumstances, something I try not to envy.

Instead, it triggers my wish to take care of her. “You’re staying for dinner, right?” Maybe Stephanie will stay if she knows Suze will be here.

“Oh, yes, please. I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in ages.”

“I made chicken tortilla soup.” Stephanie shakes her head, and I add, “I saved some of the base before I added chicken so Jasmine won’t starve.” The girl has gone vegetarian the past year, part of her transformation into an eco-warrior. “Sure you can’t have a bowl of soup?”