Confessions from the Quilting Circle - Maisey Yates Page 0,3
the sitting room, and into the kitchen. The two rooms were divided by a red brick wall with another stained glass window set into it, and a large arched doorway. At one time, it had been an external wall and door, the change just part of one of the many expansions and remodels that had taken place over the years.
Another thing Lark had never given a whole lot of thought to. Because it was simply how Grandpa’s house had looked. Now, she saw it for the slight architectural oddity that it was.
She could see her sister through the window, the pane cutting across her face, the top of her head green, and the bottom half purple. Lark walked into the kitchen, where her mother was already seated at the table, and her sister was in the process of wiping it off. She had brought... They looked like insulated bags, which Lark could only assume had food in them.
“I figured you guys would be pretty hungry by now.”
“I’m always hungry,” Lark said. “And hi.” She closed the space between herself and her sister and drew her in for a hug.
“Good to see you.” Avery dropped a kiss on to her head.
Lark took a step back. Avery looked tired, her blond hair piled on top of her head, an oversize sweater covering her always thin frame. She had on a pair of black leggings and a pair of black athletic shoes. She looked every inch the classic image of the supermom that she was.
Avery had all the self possession and poise of their mother and the effortless femininity of their grandmother. She’d been popular and stylish with ease and Lark had envied her. When Lark had reacted to things it had always been big, and often messy. Until she’d learned to get a grip on herself. Until she’d finally learned her lesson about what could happen when you acted, and didn’t think it through.
“But what food did you bring?” Lark asked.
“I had a potpie in the freezer. I also brought salad and rolls. I figured Hannah would probably be hungry too, after flying cross-country.”
Her sister had also brought wine, and sparkling water. Lark helped herself to the water. Without asking for assistance, Avery finished cleaning off the table, then produced paper plates. “I didn’t know what kind of a state the dishes would be in. And I didn’t know which appliances in the house were functional. I don’t hand wash.”
“No. Why would anyone? It’s why God gave us dishwashers.”
“Agree. Mom?” Avery asked. “How much potpie do you want?”
“I can serve myself.”
“No,” Avery said. “You don’t have to. Just sit. I’ll get you some wine.” Avery was a flurry of movement, and even when Lark and Mary had their food, Avery didn’t sit. She opened up the cupboards and looked in each of them, frowning. Lark could almost see an inventory building in her sister’s head.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“I’ve been thinking,” Avery said. “Didn’t you talk to Hannah at all about what her idea was for this place?”
“No.” Lark felt vaguely wounded by that. There was a plan, and Hannah hadn’t said anything to her?
That made her feel more like the baby sister than anything had for a while.
“Finally!” Laden with suitcases, Hannah pushed the door open with her shoulder, her bright red hair, a shade or two down the aisle from the color their grandmother had used, covering her face. “I couldn’t seem to get a car. I had to rent one.”
Her suitcases were flung out in front of her, her violin in a black case slung over her shoulder. Lark didn’t see a purse. She was sure her sister had one, but the violin was obviously her most important possession.
“Yeah, I don’t think ridesharing has really caught on around here,” Lark said.
“Do you mean those apps? Aren’t all the drivers serial killers or something?” Avery asked. Everyone looked at her. “One of my friends shared a post about it online.”
Hannah and Lark exchanged a glance.
“Well, I’ve managed to use it for about five years now and not get serial killed. But I’m keeping my fingers crossed,” Hannah said. “It will be good to have a car, but I don’t really want to pay for a rental for the next three months.”
“Dad said you could borrow the car,” Mary said.
“Thanks,” Hannah responded.
“I drove,” Lark said, only then registering that her sister had not in fact asked if she needed the car. “So I have my car,” she finished lamely.