Elaine Hussey - The Oleander Sisters

“Hey, Em,” she called. “Before the wedding, why don’t I take you and Andy somewhere?” Maybe if Emily had some time away from Larry, she’d come to her senses. “Maybe up the Peabody in Memphis so Andy can see the ducks?”

“We’re going camping in the backyard tonight. That’s enough.”

Sis sighed. It was bad enough to keep fighting a battle she couldn’t win. Sitting still for so long in a shop filled with things as breakable as her sister made the situation even worse.

“Need any help in there, Em?”

“No. I’m not even going to zip this one. It’s too pink.”

“I thought you wanted pink.”

“Not this pink. I just don’t want white, that’s all. It doesn’t seem appropriate.”

Emily’s sensitivity to her so-called scarlet past made Sis want to smack somebody. Just about anybody would do.

In a whisper of blush-colored silk that looked like the underside of a camellia, Emily emerged from the dressing room and stood in front of Sis with her yellow hair glowing under the lights and her mouth turned into a shy smile.

“How do I look?”

Beautiful and breathtaking—even happy—were the words that would come to mind if you didn’t know Emily. But Sis had seen how Emily beamed every time she glanced in the direction of her son. There was something amiss here, something as subtle as an undertow in the Gulf you wouldn’t notice until it had swept you out to sea.

Sis looked beyond the swirling skirts, beyond the bodice beaded with seed pearls, beyond the tiny, long-sleeved lace bolero that covered Emily’s arms and shoulders. And that’s when she saw it, the darkening skin of her upper arm.

She leaped up and grabbed her sister’s arm, leaned close for a better look. It was definitely a bruise. Sis had the sensation of looking into a chasm, one so deep and wide it would swallow them all.

“Em, what is this?”

“It’s nothing.” Emily pulled her arm away, but Sis pushed her sister’s sleeve back until she had uncovered the mottled discoloration of a fading bruise.

“How’d you get this?”

When Emily didn’t want to answer a hard question, she got so still you could pass right by and hardly notice her standing there.

“You know I won’t stop till I find out, Em.”

“It was an accident, Sis. Really. For Pete’s sake.” Emily pulled away and pushed her sleeve over the bruise. “I was going down the stairs too fast and fell against the banister. You know how easily I bruise.”

Emily was lying. Sis could tell by the way her sister wouldn’t look into her eyes.

If rage were a country, Sis would be China. This was her baby sister, the one Sis had loved and fought for, even to the point of cornering the Bible school teacher at Biloxi Baptist Church and threatening to beat the snot out of her if she didn’t put a star on Emily’s chart.

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