My Sister's Keeper

Chapter 10

10

ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT for the rest of the morning was Joe's admonitions and how he'd acted. My creativity was gone and I couldn't concentrate. I made it through my first appointment on pure instinct. My eleven o'clock was an on-site conference with the younger sister of a girl I dated back in high school. Pulling into the parking lot of the Deagan Dance Center a few minutes early, I parked next to a black Mazda van lettered with the school's logo. I'd driven by this place thousands of times, but had never paid much attention to it. The grounds were well-kept and framed with gigantic oak trees budding with new life and dripping with long strands of Spanish moss.

I entered a spacious lobby plastered with dance-related posters, informational signs, photographs, and three large TV monitors high on one wall each showing a different empty classroom. Long wooden benches lined three sides of the lobby, and there was a receptionist center on the fourth with shelves of trophies behind it that covered the walls all the way to the ceiling. There was no one around. Just the steady rhythmic beat of music deep within the building, the melody constricted by the walls.

"Sydney?" I called.

"Just a minute. Be right there," a voice replied. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a figure cross one of the monitors and disappear from view before I had the chance to get a good look. An instant later she entered the adjoining room and for a second I would have sworn I was looking at her older sister Jewell. Though a few years younger, Sydney had always flirted with me whenever I'd showed up at their house. There was a definite resemblance, but as she drew near I could see that Sydney had grown into a far more beautiful woman. She had the same auburn hair and large blue eyes as Jewell, but somehow it had all come together better. It could have been the sparkle in her eyes, the way her personality livened her face, or just the fact that I was seeing a familiar face I hadn't seen in a long time, but the sight of her set my heart to dancing. She was taller than Jewell and seemed to float across the floor as she moved toward me with that fluid motion that only dancers have. Her hair was back in a ponytail and hung down the back of a dark green dress that laid softly over her slender figure.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come in," she said coming toward me. "I was taping a floor." Her voice was rich and deep, like a tenor sax crooning the blues; luscious and unique. A spark flashed across her eyes as she extended her right hand. "Richard Baimbridge, it's so good to see you again. Thanks for coming."

She'd called and asked if I'd photograph her students. It wasn't the kind of photography I normally do, but I agreed to come and take a look. Seeing her now brought back memories I hadn't thought of in years. "Wow! Look at you." I held her at arm's length. "Sydney Deagan all grown up."

Her face was soft and warm. Her smile genuine. And there was a hint of pride in her voice. "On my own with responsibilities and everything—just like a real adult." Her laugh was the same squeaky laugh she'd had as a little girl. It gave me chills back then and it gave me chills that day. My thoughts were momentarily disoriented as I relived a few laughs from the old days. Finally, I spoke.

"You really look great, Sydney."

"So do you, Richard. I see you every once in a while around town. You haven't changed much."

"Well, you certainly have. The last time I saw you, you were swinging on a rope in your mom's back yard."

"No, the last time you saw me I was dancing in a recital. You were there with Jewell and later that night she broke up with you."

A pain shot through the back of my head. Jewell and I weren't actually going steady, but it still hurt to be told that they'd rather date someone else. "Yes, I think you're right. That was the last time I remember seeing either of you."