Winter Garden

You’re like her.

That was what Jeff had said.

Wrapping the blanket more tightly around her, she finished her tea and went upstairs, letting the dogs come up the stairs behind her. In her room, she took a sleeping pill and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up past her chin. Curling into a fetal position, she tried to focus on the chuffing sound of the dogs’ breathing.

Finally, somewhere past midnight, she fell into a troubled, fitful sleep, until her alarm went off at 5:47.

Batting the off button, she tried to go back to sleep, but it was a wasted effort, so she got up, dressed in her running clothes, and ran for six miles. When she got home she was exhausted enough to climb back into bed, but she didn’t dare take that route.

Work was the key. Keeping busy.

She thought about going in to work, although on the beautiful sunny Sunday, someone was liable to see her car, and if Daisy found out that Meredith had come in on a Sunday, the inquisition would begin.

She decided to go to Belye Nochi and make sure Nina was taking good care of Mom. There was still plenty of packing to be done.

An hour later, dressed in an old pair of jeans and a navy-blue sweatshirt, she showed up at Mom’s house, calling out, “Hello,” as she came into the kitchen.

Nina was at the kitchen table, wearing the same clothes she’d been in yesterday, with her short black hair spiked out in all directions. There were several books open on the table and pieces of paper lay scattered about, with Nina’s bold scrawl covering most of the sheets.

“You look like the Unabomber,” Meredith said.

“Good morning to you, too. ”

“Have you slept at all?”

“Some. ”

“What’s wrong?”

“I know you don’t care, but it’s the fairy tale. I can’t get it out of my head. ” Nina looked up. “She mentioned the Fontanka Bridge last night. It was always the Enchanted Bridge before, wasn’t it? Does that seem odd to you?”

“The fairy tale,” Meredith said. “I should have known. ”

“Listen to this: ‘The Fontanka is a branch of the River Neva, which flows through the city of Leningrad. ’ ”

Meredith poured herself a cup of coffee. “She’s Russian. The story takes place in Russia. Stop the presses. ”

“You should have been there, Mere. It was amazing. Last night was all new. ”

No, it wasn’t. “Maybe you were just too young to remember. I am not getting sucked into this. ”

“How can you not be interested? We’ve never heard the end of it. ”

Meredith turned around slowly, looking at her sister. “I’m tired, Neens. I don’t know if you know how that feels, really. You’re always so in love with everything you do. But I’ve spent most of my life on this piece of property, and I’ve tried to get to know Mom. She won’t let it happen. That’s the answer, the end. She’ll lure you in, make you think there’s something more—you’ll see sadness in her eyes sometimes or a soft ening in her mouth, and you’ll seize on it and believe in it because you want to so much. But it’s all a lie. She just doesn’t . . . love us. And frankly, I’ve got problems of my own right now, so I’ll have to say a polite no, thank you, on your fairy-tale quest. ”

“What problems?”

Meredith looked down at her coffee. She’d forgotten for a split second that it was Nina to whom she was speaking. Nina, with her journalist’s knack for getting to the heart of a thing instantly and her fearlessness in asking questions. “Nothing. It was just an expression. ”

“You’re lying. ”

Meredith gave a tired smile and went to the table, sitting down across from her sister. “I don’t want to fight with you, Neens. ”

“So talk to me. ”

“You’d be the last person who would understand, and I’m not being a bitch. It’s just the truth. ”

“Why do you say that?”