The Sweetness of Salt by Cecilia Galante Page A

didn’t say any more. “Sophie, why didn’t you ever tell me about her? Mom and Dad said they were trying to protect me, but what about you? How could you keep something like that a secret all these years? Didn’t you think I had a right to know?”
    Sophie turned her head, looking out across the enormous field to our right. Whip-slender stalks of grass fretted to and fro in the breeze, and a weeping willow, large as a locomotive, clouded the air with blooms. “They told me not to,” she said slowly.
    “Who did? Mom and Dad?”
    “Yes. They told me never to talk about it. And I didn’t.” Her voice had taken on a numb-sounding quality. She turned her head again so she was looking directly at me. “But it was eating me alive, Julia. That was the whole reason why I came down for your graduation. So that the four of us could start talking about it. Or try to, anyway.”
    “Seventeen years later? You finally thought it was time to start talking about it seventeen years after she dropped dead from an asthma attack?”
    “Asthma attack?” Sophie looked startled.
    “Yeah. That’s what Mom and Dad told me. That Maggie had terrible asthma. They said that’s what she died from. She got all worked up and started crying really bad, and…” Sophie’s face paled. She had dropped her cigarette. “That’s what they said, Sophie.” I took a step toward her. “When she was four. What’s the matter? Why do you look like that?”
    “What else did they tell you?”
    “Not much, really.” My voice shook. “Sophie. What’s wrong? Isn’t that what happened?”
    Instead of answering, Sophie turned around and began walking back toward town. “Sophie?” She kept moving, faster and faster. Little clouds of dust kicked up around the backs of her boots and the cuffs of her overall pants drooped against the sidewalk. “Great! You’re just gonna turn around and leave? Without answering me?” She moved farther ahead, creating more distance with every step. I lifted my hands and then let them fall against the sides of my legs helplessly. “Fine! Go ahead and leave then! It’s the only thing you ever do when things get hard!”
    She stopped. Her hands clenched into fists as she whirled around and marched back in my direction. Pieces of her hair had come loose from underneath the bandanna. She was breathing hard. “That is not what happened to Maggie.” Her words came out with great effort, as if part of her was trying to old them back. “They did not tell you the truth.”
    “Then what is the truth?” I whispered.
    She stared at me, her eyes as big as the cornflowers on the road. “You know what?” she said. “I don’t even fucking know anymore.”
    “What do you mean, you don’t know ? Of course you know! Dad said you were there! He said you saw everything!”
    “Dad said that?” Sophie’s voice was hoarse. “That’s what he said?”
    “Sophie.” I put my hands on her shoulders. My fingers were trembling. “Sophie, just tell me about Maggie. That’s why I came up this weekend, okay? I wanted—I felt like I needed—to get your side of the story. That’s all. It’s not a big deal, Sophie. Whatever it is. Just tell me, okay? Tell me what happened.”

    Later, it seemed that the whole world fell away from us in that moment. The wind stopped blowing. The insects ceased their humming. Even the trees and the flowers shrank into the distance, fading against the tall grass, disappearing into the green.
    It was just Sophie and me on that road, under the hot sun, looking at each other for the very first time.
    “I can’t,” Sophie said, shrugging my hands off. “I thought I could, but I can’t. I just can’t.”
    And then she turned and walked away from me again. This time I let her go.

chapter
    19
    A huge part of me wanted to run after her, to yank her by the arm, spin her around, and scream, “What do you mean you can’t? This is our family we’re talking about! You can and you will!”
    But I