Unlike Adam’s parents’ large granite island and sleek appliances, ours was plain. Karen had done very little remodeling since moving into the house in 1991. She had replaced the countertops because they’d chipped and the appliances from white to stainless steel when she found out my Aunt Carmen in Florida had replaced hers, but the floors were still the same little white tiles and the cabinets were still the same washed wood. I sat in my usual spot at the table. Adam sat beside me, adjusting in the wooden seat as he tried to get comfortable. It would be an impossible task. Our furniture wasn’t made for giants.
“How was Florida?”
Karen turned around and crossed her arms. “Humid. Loud.”
“How’s Carmen?”
“Missing you.”
“I miss her too.” I felt myself smile a little. Carmen was Karen’s deceased husband’s sister. Karen was an only child, but his siblings had welcomed her into their family and treated her and me like their own. Karen was still staring at me when the kettle began to whistle. She turned around and busied herself.
“You drink tea, handsome?”
“Sure. Thank you.”
“Where’d you meet Eva? That swanky Ivy League school?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m surprised she brought you here.” She turned around and set a mug in front of Adam and one in front of me. “Eva’s big on one-night stands staying one-night stands.”
Adam’s head whipped in my direction. I felt my face burn as she turned around and poured her tea.
“We haven’t had a one-night stand.”
“Yet.” Karen raised an eyebrow and sat across from us, setting her mug down. “Eva is a very difficult person. She’s moody, she’s outright mean sometimes, but she’s going to make someone very happy someday.”
“Oh my God.” I brought my tea to my lips and drank. What was she doing?
“She’s a good person,” Adam said.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, setting the mug down.
“She is,” Karen agreed, “but like I said, she has an attitude problem, which was why I thought it was weird when a couple of weeks ago she showed up here acting like the doting daughter.”
I sat up straighter. “This was the night you went to the hospital?”
“Yes. Which, I guess I owe you an apology. I thought you’d abandoned me and didn’t go visit until it dawned on me that it wasn’t you at all.”
“How’d you figure it out?” That was Adam.
“At the hospital, I had a policeman come visit. He told me you’d been in a car accident. When I asked if you were okay, he said you were fine, minor injuries, but that you were in another hospital recovering.” Karen pursed her lips. “I called every hospital. You weren’t registered in any.”
“What did she say when she came?”
“She started out by being nice to me, for starters. She called me mom, not Karen.” Karen raised an eyebrow. “I should’ve known then.”
“What did she say though?”
“It was mostly small talk, but when I told you . . . her . . . that she needed to leave and take her meds, she started panicking. That was when she told me she was your sister.”
“What did you say?” I inched forward, feeling my heart in my throat.
“I told her to get out of my house. I’d had enough of you. Enough of the lies and exaggerations. Enough of the back and forth.” She shook her head. “It was too much. She came on the eve of Esteban’s death. I’d just gotten back from an emotional Mass.”
“Oh, God. I forgot.” I shut my eyes briefly.
“You didn’t come last year so I figured you wouldn’t show this year either.”
“I was in Florida last year and went to Mass there with Aunt Carmen.”
“Well, shortly after I got home, you got here.” Karen paused. “She got here.”
“Why’d you get a gun?” I asked, remembering that detail. “Why do you even have a gun?”
“I had a break-in a few weeks ago. Something you’d know if you answered your phone.” She raised an eyebrow.
“Were you home? Did they take anything?”
“I wasn’t. They rummaged through my office, but I don’t think anything is missing.”
“You don’t think anything is missing?”
“Our passports are still there. Our social security cards. Esteban’s watch collection is untouched.”
“So you got a gun.”
“So I got a gun.”
“And were you going to shoot me with it?”
“Well, at that point I figured it wasn’t you after all and she wouldn’t leave.”
“So you were going to kill her?”
“No. I was going to scare her off, which I did,” Karen said. At the sight of the shock on my face, she continued, “She came in here pretending to be you. Why would she pretend to be you for a full ten minutes before telling me the truth?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where were you on Friday anyway?”
“At a party.”
“A party.” Karen scoffed. “Of course you were.”
“A school function,” I said. “Not a fun, college party. Either way, I don’t have any recollection of it, or Saturday. I woke up on Sunday at The Institute, in a bed, and got picked up by the cops. That was where I learned of Stella’s existence.” I paused for Karen. “My sister. The one who came here.”