Tell Me No Secrets by Joy Fielding

gently above them. There was a large bentwood rocking chair in the middle of the room and an overstuffed chair in boldwhite and purple stripes off to one side, as well as a changing table and a large flower-printed diaper pail. Maureen leaned over the cribs and cooed at her children, speaking over her shoulder at Jess with a gentle lilt in her voice that belied the strength of her words. “I don’t understand you, Jess. I really don’t. You know Barry doesn’t mean half of what he says. He just likes to give you a hard time. Why do you always have to rise to the bait?”
    Jess shook her head. A million excuses fought their way to the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them all, allowing only an apology to escape. “I’m sorry. Really I am. I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I don’t know what happened,” she continued, when the apology didn’t seem to suffice.
    “Same thing that always happens when you and Barry get together. Only worse.”
    “It’s just that no matter how hard I try, he always finds a way to get to me.”
    “You get to yourself.”
    “Maybe.” Jess leaned against the doorway, listening to the babies settle down at the sound of their mother’s voice. Maybe she should tell Maureen about Rick Ferguson’s threat, and the nightmare and anxiety attacks that threat had subsequently unleashed. Maybe Maureen would cradle her in her arms and tell her that everything would be all right. How she needed to be held; how she longed to be comforted. “I’ve had a really rotten day.”
    “We all have rotten days. They don’t give you the right to be mean and unpleasant.”
    “I said I was sorry.”
    Maureen lifted one of the twins out of her crib. “Here,Carrie, go spit up on your mean auntie Jessica.” She deposited the baby in Jess’s arms.
    Jess hugged the infant to her breast, feeling the softness of the baby’s head against her lips, inhaling her sweet smell. If only she could go back, start all over again. There were so many things she’d do differently.
    “Come to Mommy, Chloe.” Maureen lifted the second baby into her arms. “Not everything has to be a confrontation,” she told Jess, rocking the baby gently back and forth.
    “That’s not what they taught us in law school.”
    Maureen smiled, and Jess knew all was forgiven. Maureen had never been able to stay angry for long. She’d been like that since they were children, always eager to make things right, unlike Jess, who could nurse a grudge for days, a trait that drove their mother to distraction.
    “Do you ever think …” Jess began, then hesitated, not sure whether to continue. She had never broached this subject with Maureen before.
    “Do I ever think what?”
    Jess began rocking the baby in her arms back and forth. “Do you ever think you’ve seen Mommy?” she asked slowly.
    A look of shock passed through Maureen’s face. “What?”
    “Do you ever imagine that you’ve seen … Mother?” Jess repeated, straining for formality, avoiding her sister’s incredulous gaze. “You know, in a crowd. Or across the street.” Her voice trailed to a halt. Did she sound as ridiculous as she felt?
    “Our mother is dead,” Maureen said firmly.
    “I just meant …”
    “Why are you doing this to yourself?”
    “I’m not doing anything to myself.”
    “Look at me, Jess,” Maureen ordered, and Jess reluctantly turned toward her sister’s voice. The two women, each cradling an infant in her arms, stared into each other’s green eyes from across the room. “Our mother is dead,” Maureen repeated, as Jess felt her body grow numb.
    They heard the doorbell ring. “That’s Daddy,” Jess said, desperate to escape her sister’s scrutiny.
    Maureen’s eyes refused to release her. “Jess, I think you should talk to Stephanie Banack.”
    Jess heard the front door open, listened as her father and Barry exchanged pleasantries in the front foyer. “Stephanie Banack? Why would I want to talk to her?