Page 41 of The Luminaries
“Yeah, Win.” He turns away. “Anytime.”
Winnie is just getting out of the shower when she hears an engine pulling in front of the house. She glances out the tiny bathroom window, wiping away the fog, and spots a navy Honda Civic. It takes her a second to place why she knows the car.
Then its owner steps from the driver’s seat: Aunt Rachel.
Winnie is so surprised, she doesn’t move. She’s too accustomed to being ignored for her brain to register that Rachel might be cominghere.Then Rachel’s dark head circles toward the lawn. The fading sunset transforms her into an impressionist painting.
Winnie watches the fog start to reclaim its territory on the window, wondering if she can pretend no one is home. But right as Rachel reaches the first step to the porch, she pauses. Glances up. Spots Winnie and waves.
“Shit.” Winnie bolts for her room, mentally adding a dollar to the swear jar. Then mentally removing it because she is certain Mom never paid up earlier.
Though her body is covered in bruises and small cuts, though her arms are so sore she can hardly lift them to put on a T-shirt (white) and her Save the Whales hoodie, though her thigh muscles literally scream (she can definitely hear them screaming) as she shimmies into pants that maybe have gotten a little too small, Winnie dresses in record speed. She can hear Rachel opening the front door, and she decides Jay is right: they really should lock that thing.
Winnie leaves her hair unbrushed and sopping, and in mere minutes, she is rushing downstairs. Rachel stands awkwardly in the living room, staring at the spots where the photos of Dad used to be.
And photos of her too, now that Winnie considers it. Rachel came over often. She and Mom were more than just sisters. They were best friends, and the two of them had always paired together on Wednesday nights in the forest.
For the first time in four years, Winnie wonders what Rachel felt when she learned her sister’s husband had betrayed them. When she learned her closest friend and partner was getting banned from the Luminaries because she’d unwittingly married a Diana.
Rachel speaks first, clasping her hands in front of her, shoulders hunching slightly. “Your mom’s not here, huh?”
“She’s at work.” Winnie steps warily into the living room. “She has a shift at the Daughter tonight.”
“Ah.” Rachel seems to hunch even more. It’s very un-Rachel of her. “She, uh… well, she…”
“Yeah?” Winnie presses. She had rushed down here expecting Hard-Ass Aunt Rachel. Instead, she’s faced with… this. Whateverthisis, and she feels weirdly like the adult in the room.
“She might not have to keep that job much longer,” Rachel continues. “There are some administrative openings at the estate, assuming the whole outcast thing gets, uh…” She releases her hands and moves to the couch. “May I?”
“Sure.” Winnie shrugs, because she can hardly refuse.
Rachel perches on the edge of the farthest cushion from Winnie, somehow looking even more uncomfortable than when she’d been standing. There’s clearly something she wants to say, and Winnie startsto wonder if maybe Rachel isn’t here to see Mom at all, but actually came to see her.
Then Rachel confirms it. “Look, I’m sorry.” She deflates slightly and rubs at her eyes. “I’ve been so hard on you these past four years and, uh… Well, you did good on Thursday night. You showed real loyalty. All three of you, actually.” She lurches to her feet and starts pacing.
Winnie still waits at the edge of the room.
“You, Fran, Darian—you’ve stuck by the Luminaries, even though none of them… none ofushave stuck by you. I can’t imagine it was easy.” She pauses her forward march briefly to flick a questioning glance Winnie’s way, as if maybe Winnie will contradict her. As if she’ll say,Nah, it was all good.
But it wasn’t all good. Plus, Winnie is too stunned to speak. She’s the ghost-deer now, caught in the sights of a hunter.
Rachel resumes her pacing and her monologue. “I don’t think there is a… a purer embodiment of the Wednesday motto than the three of you. Than, well… than you. I’m really proud of you, Win. Your mom and me once faced a banshee, you know.” She stops walking and squares herself to Winnie. “We couldn’t do what you did, and you were all alone. It’s amazing.” There’s a soft smile on Rachel’s lips and genuine awe in her dark eyes at what she thinks Winnie did.
The nausea bubbles up again. The lie of it all cranking inside Winnie, like a jack-in-the-box ready to burst. If she says anything, it will probably be the truth—or worse, a lie that Rachel will see right through.
So Winnie nods. A brusque movement on a neck made of bruises and strained muscles.
But it seems to be enough, because Rachel nods too. “All right. That’s, uh, all I wanted to say.” She moves toward Winnie, clearly headed for the front door. Right as she reaches Winnie, though, she pauses, staring at Winnie’s neck. Her hand twitches upward, then stills. “Where did you get that?”
“Get what?” Winnie clutches at her neck, and of course, there’s the locket. “It was a gift.”
“Who gave it to you?”
Winnie hesitates, wondering if she should lie. Wondering if she needsto protect Darian. She really doesn’t like the way Rachel is looking at it. Erica had stared at it with anger and contempt; Rachel looks only horrified. Her left eye is twitching.
“Darian gave it to me.” Winnie notches her chin up an inch. “It was my birthday present. Why do you ask?”
Rachel’s lips compress. She’s staring at Winnie’s knuckles, as if she can see through them to the necklace. “I thought it looked familiar, but I guess I was wrong.” Her gaze flicks upward. Then she gives Winnie an awkward pat on the shoulder. “How about I pick you up after Sunday classes tomorrow? We can get some decent gear for you at the estate.”
