Secrets Whispered from the Sea - Emma St. Clair Page 0,17
a buffer. Or maybe a referee.
“I’m not sleeping anyway,” she mumbled.
For the first time, I really studied Ann. Her blonde hair looked like she had missed the last appointment at the salon, darker blonde roots showing more than normal. Of course, that could have been the new style, and I wouldn’t have known. My red hair kept me from trying anything adventurous with color, ever. My understanding of fashion stopped shortly after high school.
Ann’s hands clutched the mug of coffee as though it were a life preserver, and her eyes were puffy and dark. Seeing her uncovered freckles again filled me with an affection I rarely felt for my sister. She never seemed to need or want it. Which made giving it a risk that usually blew up in my face.
Somewhere down the line of years, I had simply stopped taking the risk.
“Got any more where that came from?” I pointed to her mug. When she started shifting in her seat, I put a hand on her arm and stood. “Don’t get up.”
“It’s fine.” With a nod, she gestured to a fancy machine, one of the few things on the counter. I walked over to it, facing off with what looked like a pod machine, only not one I had seen before. I had gotten as far as pressing a button on top that flashed green when Ann nudged me out of the way.
“I’ll do it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s a little too fancy for me.”
She shot me a look as though my description about her coffee maker was a sweeping judgment on her life. Maybe it kind of was. This is not how I wanted the conversation to go. Remembering what Sylvia said about how Nana would have wanted me to mend things with Ann, I took a deep breath.
“Thanks so much.”
“Do you want steamed milk?” she asked.
“If it’s no trouble.”
She pulled the milk from a special door on the front of the stainless steel fridge, and I watched her pour it into a small black cylinder next to the coffee maker, which was spouting golden coffee that looked more like espresso. I hadn’t envied Ann in a long time, but I did now. For her coffee maker. I wanted to laugh.
When she sat down a minute or two later, handing me a mug that looked more like a coffee shop latte than a regular brew, I just stared at it. “Wow. I think I need one of these in my life.”
“I’ll send you the link,” she said. “It was a birthday gift from Tommy.”
I wasn’t sure whether she meant that to be a dig since I hadn’t called this year on her birthday, only sent a card … a few days late. She never remembered my birthday either, so I let the comment slide. The coffee was the best thing I’d tasted in four days. Which was saying something.
“Yeah, my first order of business is to get one of these.” I paused, wondering in my head how much such a machine would cost. “Maybe after I fix the AC at Nana’s.”
Ann turned to face me, leaning one elbow on the counter as though she needed the support. “Is it broken?”
“Yep. Someone should be out to fix it—in a few days.”
She shook her head. “We shouldn’t keep dumping money into the place. I already talked to an agent about listing. I’ll give you her card.”
“Okay. I also talked with a contractor about making some updates. I think it could help us get a better price.”
“Who’s paying for that? We don’t have a ton of cash right now.”
I tried not to look around the house, noting all the expensive things. “I’ve got some savings. Plus, a severance package.”
I hadn’t meant to drop the news about getting fired like that. Mostly because I expected Ann’s reaction. Her eyes went wide. Here we go.
“You got fired?”
Sophie saved me by running in, her bare feet slapping on the hardwood floors. “Look what I built, Auntie Clem!”
She shoved a Lego creation at me. Some kind of spaceship? It had wings and a wheel that looked like it came from a pirate ship.
“Wow! Looks great, Soph. I didn’t think I bought you a space thing.”
“You didn’t,” Camille said, walking to my other side and sliding a perfectly built cottage across the counter. “It’s supposed to look like this.”
I didn’t have the box in front of me, but what Camille had built looked like it could have been a model for the instruction manual.