Garden Spells by Sarah Addison Allen

their boob jobs. And how did she even know I was back in town? Why did you tell her?”
    “I didn’t tell her.”
    “Sure you didn’t. How else would she have found out?”
    “Maybe Eliza Beaufort told her,” Claire said. “Her grandmother was one of the ladies at the luncheon in Hickory.”
    Sydney stared at Claire for a few long moments, her eyes shining with tears. Claire didn’t think she’d ever seen Sydney cry. They’d both been stoic children. Neither had seemed too affected by their mother’s abandonment, and neither had shed a tear. But for the first time Claire wondered what Sydney had been holding in all this time. “Why did you let me do this? Why did you let me go out there? Didn’t you think it was unusual for Emma to be calling you to cater something meant to flaunt a lifestyle everyone else already knew about? The passion and the money. She did this so I would see it.”
    “She didn’t arrange this, her mother did. I never even spoke to Emma. Maybe this was just a coincidence, Sydney. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.”
    “How can you, of all people, say that? To a Waverley, there’s a meaning to everything! And how can you defend them? Are you actually this comfortable with people thinking the way they do about us? I saw you when we were kids, how no one wanted to be your friend, how no boys were ever interested in you. I thought that’s why you retreated into all of this”—Sydney waved widely at the food and flowers on the countertops—“because you thought the house and Grandma were all you needed. I wanted more than that. I wanted those friends out there. I wanted all of this. I was devastated when Hunter John broke up with me, but you didn’t even notice. And this hurt me tonight, Claire. Doesn’t it matter at all to you?”
    Claire didn’t know what to say, which seemed to make Sydney even more upset. Sydney turned with a hiss and went to the purse she’d set by the door. She took out a small piece of notebook paper, then went to the wall phone by the walk-in pantry.
    “What are you doing?” Claire asked.
    Sydney pointedly turned her back on her and dialed the number that was on the paper.
    “Please, Sydney. Don’t leave.”
    “Tyler?” Sydney said into the receiver. “It’s Sydney Waverley. I’m stuck someplace and I need a ride.” Pause. “Willow Springs Road, on the east side of town. Number thirty-two, a large Tudor home. Drive around back. Thank you so much.”
    Sydney took off her apron, dropped it to the floor. She grabbed her purse and walked out the door.
    Claire helplessly watched her go. Her stomach was jumping so much she felt like she was going to be sick, and she had to bend over and put her hands on her knees. She couldn’t lose what was left of her family, not so soon. She couldn’t be the reason Sydney left again.
    The past ten years weren’t the only mystery surrounding Sydney. Claire realized she didn’t even know her sister when they were kids. She didn’t realize Sydney thought Hunter John was the one. She didn’t realize it had hurt Sydney so much. But what Claire didn’t know, those people out there on the patio did. And they had done this on purpose. Claire knew from the beginning that something had been off. Sydney was right. There was a meaning to everything, and Claire had ignored all the warning signs.
    She took a deep breath, then straightened. She would fix this.
    She went to the phone and pushed the redial button.
    It took a few moments, but Tyler’s voice finally came on the line, slightly breathless. “Hello?”
    “Tyler?”
    “Yes.”
    “This is Claire Waverley.”
    There was a definite pause of surprise. “Claire. This is strange. I just got a call from your sister. She sounded upset.”
    “She is. She’s with me on a job. I need to…ask you for a favor.”
    “Anything,” he said.
    “I need you to go next door to my house before you pick Sydney up here. Will you bring me some things from the house and garden?