Tara’s pleasure in getting the better of Matthew King—leaving him to contend with her gaga mama, refusing to take his note to Brooke, and pressuring him into the summer play—had nose-dived even before she reached Route 212.
She liked Matthew King and he liked her. He told her things he didn’t tell anyone else. He confessed his weaknesses and accepted Tara’s approval or disapproval as if she were the only dependably honest person alive. In general, Tara would rather be the even keel to Matthew than the cause of his insanity, like Brooke.
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But sometimes Tara envied Brooke, especially when her older sister’s high spirits seemed to lift her out of herself. To say nothing of how Matthew King sought her presence every morning. Or how he arranged every day to trek through the meadow with her, just him and Brooke splashing in the waterfall. Tara watched them, aware they whispered and teased and pleaded with each other. But past that she could only guess.
Her jealousy came and went but mostly Tara felt afraid. If you behaved like that, you ended up broken in two. Brooke almost reveled in heart-break, or so it seemed. It had only happened twice as far as Tara knew, both times after minimal injury. Matthew had stood her up last summer and for one night she cried and drank herself sick. Slightly more understandable, during the school year a vain, affected, basically boring boy had taken Brooke as his lover, providing she never said a word, not even when he stopped acknowledging her existence. Instead, she had waited around, in case he reconsidered going another round with her.
Tara vowed she would never behave so stupidly. She wanted a lover someday, but she didn’t expect him to last forever. Judging by her family and everything she’d read and observed, someone might love her to distraction, but only for awhile. At some juncture a replacement broke the obsession and to Tara’s mind, rarely was the replacement a better person. Usually, she wasn’t even prettier, just different.
Overall, she saw romantic happiness as an extreme long shot. Perhaps Tara could play the lover rather than beloved. In the dominant position, Tara would do better. Dealing with her father and just now with Matthew hadn’t she exhibited a steely quality? Imagine if she made it her main goal. Tara Logan might be a born heart-breaker—better lock up your sons.
No, most likely Tara would live alone, too independent and rational to act like a romantic idiot. The gossips comparing Tara and Brooke had it backwards. Tara the quiet, steely one would have the exciting career. Avid Brooke would waste so much of her power on love that if she were lucky, there just might be enough left for her to run the Trinity Gallery, like their mother.
Throwing down her bike in the yard, Tara hurried upstairs. “Brooke?” No answer. But she could hear her sister singing—sort of singing, Brooke was always off-key. Near the top step, she saw Brooke dancing in a long, gauzy skirt. Her sister twirled and the skirt closed around her legs; she twirled the other way and it floated out in a soft white circle.
Brooke was listening to music through ear buds and Tara couldn’t identify the song except that it was obviously sweeping and soulful. Like the white skirt, Brooke’s dark hair opened and closed around her upward-tilted face. Her eyes were closed and when she stopped singing, her lips parted slightly.
Tara tugged Brooke’s arm and when she didn’t react, yanked out the ear pieces. “Hey!”
“I thought you might be grief-stricken, Brooke. Flat on the floor in despair.”
“Why? Because I wanted a night off?”
“You were angry.”
Tara sat on a striped, foam couch and watched Brooke finish dancing to the song. Afterwards she asked what it was.
“One of those British soul girls, singing, ‘cry, cry, cry…’”
“Yeah? Matthew can’t see you again. He’s getting you a different job.”
“Shut up, Tara. Matthew King is in love with me.”
“How do you know?”
Brooke fell next to Tara and played with her skirt’s ties. “I just know.”
“Did you get the skirt at the second-hand shop? You need a different top with it.”
Nodding her assent about a new top, Brooke said. “I know the thing with Mathew’s temporary, but for now? He’s as deep in love with me as he gets.”
“What happens when it’s over?” Tara asked. “Aren’t you afraid of that?”
“No. And I’m gonna make sure he doesn’t forget me, even when he moves on.”
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