Page 110 of The Starfish Sisters

“Cut?” I echo, but follow orders.

When I sit down, she blots my forehead. “You need stitches. Are you comfortable with me doing it, or do you maybe want to call a plastic surgeon?”

“A plastic surgeon? In Blue Cove?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I’m guessing you care more about this than most people.”

“Sorry. You’re very sensitive, thank you. Can I see it?”

She holds up her phone on selfie camera mode and I see a jagged gash along my hairline. It has soaked the hair around it a pale pink and blood is still leaking out of it. “Wow. I don’t remember getting this.”

“Adrenaline.”

“Go ahead and sew it up,” I say. “It will never show.”

As she deadens the area around the cut, Joel prowls through the house, opening closets and looking in cupboards. I wince at the needle but, in three minutes, can’t feel anything. The guy is carted off to a hospital somewhere, and she’s still stitching. “This is going to be a cool scar, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she agrees with a little laugh. “You earned it.”

In my hand, my phone rings. I tilt the screen to where I can see the caller, and of course it’s Phoebe, because she can probably see the lights from the studio. I let it go to voice mail.

It rings again. “Joel!” I call. “Can you answer this, please?”

He takes the phone. “She’s okay. Long story, but she’s fine and they have the guy who has been terrorizing her.” He listens. “No, don’t come up right now. I’ll have her call you when she can.”

He hangs up. “Good?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Great.”

And I actually mean it. I don’t have to talk to her until I’m ready. If I ever get ready. This is my decision and I don’t have to rush it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Phoebe

Suze has not answered a text or phone call for nearly a week. I found out from Ben that the same guy who’d been harassing her, starting at the Pig ’N Pancake, had broken in and Suze kicked his ass, basically.

I see her on the deck while I’m painting. I see her walking on the beach, sometimes with Joel. She came to see Jasmine off when she decided to return to England with Stephanie, but didn’t even look at me.

Which is fair. Although, really, she must know how hard it is for me to let Jasmine go early. Before I could express as much to Ben, I realize that I’ve put my own agenda at the center of the friendship again, and it’s time to let Suze do that.

If we even have a friendship left.

When a week stretches to two, then three, my heart is breaking so much that I know I have to make the first move. I have to try to somehow make amends. I know I can’t fix the past, but I have to try to be present with what I’ve done. Rather than call, I scour the town for a box of stationery, and find only the most basic pale blue, meant for old ladies. Which, technically, I suppose we have become. It has that distinctive rose-lavender-flower scent, and that’s enough for me.

Sitting at the studio table with classical music playing, I take out a sheaf of paper and begin to write.

Dear Suze,

I have spent so much time thinking about our friendship in the past few weeks, about my bad behavior and the ways I’ve let you down, and if things were reversed, I don’t know if I could forgive you.

But I miss you so much it’s like someone has chopped off my left arm. I think I can manage okay without it, and then I need to drain the pasta, and it’s obvious that I really do need that arm.

I miss you.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hiding the letter. I’m sorry for always being so jealous and hostile. I’m sorry that I fought with you at our grandmother’s funeral. It was my fault. I don’t know why I got so mad.

That’s a lie. I wanted to keep Amma to myself. I didn’t want to admit that she loved you every single bit as much as she loved me. I wanted to keep you to myself, too, and not share you with Amma, or my dad, or Joel, and even worse, the entire world. The whole world knows you and that made me protective and jealous. Like, they don’t know you. Not like I do. They don’t know that you love sauerkraut even though it’s the worst food in the world. They don’t know that your favorite shirt is a sloppy T-shirt from the ’90s. They don’t know all the things you’ve had to get through in your life, your horrible father, the loss of your baby and Joel.