Page 47 of The Sun Sister
I had no more time to ponder, because the concierge called to let me know that Miss Jackson was downstairs and asked if he could send her up.
‘Yeah, sure,’ I agreed, and spent the next minute pacing the apartment once again, my heart banging in my chest. The doorbell rang and I took a deep breath, trying not to think what this meant to me. What if I hated her? After my sisters had found their happy endings through meeting their relatives, that would just be typical, I thought as I went to open the door.
‘Hi.’ I smiled simply because I was used to automatically smiling for the camera, or, in fact, producing whatever expression the situation required.
‘Hello, Electra. I am Stella Jackson, your grandmother.’
‘Please, come in.’
‘Thank you kindly.’
As she walked in front of me, I felt as though I was having the hugest déjà vuof my life. Tommy hadn’t been joking around when he’d said she looked like me. It was like looking at a freaking reflection of me, only older.
‘You look so young!’ I said, because I couldn’t stop myself.
‘Why, thank you. Actually, I am almost sixty-eight years old.’
‘Wow! I’d have put you at forty-five max. Please, sit down.’
‘Thank you.’ I watched her looking around. ‘This is some fancy apartment you’ve gotten yourself here.’
‘Yeah, it’s very convenient.’
‘I once lived on the other side of the park. It’s a good neighbourhood. It’s safe, very safe.’
‘You used to live on the Upper East Side?’ I said, staring at her.
Now she was standing in front of me, I noticed she was dressed in a shirt which I could see was well made and a pair of tailored black trousers. What looked like an Hermès scarf was tied jauntily around her slender throat and her hair was trimmed in a short afro. All in all, she exuded a natural elegance and beauty – and she looked rich!
‘Yes, for a while, I did.’
I realised she was staring at me as hard as I was at her.
‘How tall are you?’ she asked me.
‘Just over six foot.’
‘I beat you then.’ Stella looked pleased. ‘I’m six foot one and a half.’
‘Can I get you something to drink?’
‘No thank you.’
‘Okay. I’ll just fix one for myself then.’ I walked to the bar and acted as though I couldn’t find the vodka before I poured it and added some tonic.
‘You like vodka?’ she asked me.
‘Sometimes, yeah. You?’ I responded as I took a slug.
‘No, I’ve never developed a taste for alcohol.’
‘Right,’ was all I could manage. ‘So, you said in your letter that you wanted to see me?’
‘I did, yes.’
‘Why?’
She stared at me for a while, before she offered me a small smile. ‘You’re probably asking yourself what I want, aren’t you? Thinking I’m here to take advantage of your fame and wealth?’
