Always the Last to Know by Kristan Higgins Page 0,115
her closet, her safe space, threw some clothes into her carry-on and left.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Sadie
Pepper and I went over to my parents’ house the day after Juliet’s party and found my sister crying at the kitchen table, Mom patting her hand.
“What happened?” I said. “Where’s Dad?” Panic speared my heart.
“He’s fine. He’s watching SpongeBob,” Mom said.
“What’s wrong, Jules?”
“Nothing,” she wept. Pepper tried to crawl on her lap, whining. “I’m fine.”
“Okay, liar. First, I’m going to change the channel. SpongeBob? Is there something wrong with National Geographic? Then I’m coming back in here for the truth.”
“You can’t handle the truth,” Mom said.
“Mom! Did you make a joke? A Tom Cruise joke? What is this weird parallel universe I’m living in? Be right back.”
My father was smiling at the TV. “Hi, Dad,” I said.
He looked up at me. “Say.”
My heart leaped. “Yes! Sadie! That’s right! Great job, Dad!” He smiled at me and looked back at the TV. I kissed his head. “Got anything else for me? Can you say ‘hi’?”
Nothing. Well. That was okay. He’d almost said my name. “I’ll be back in a bit,” I told him. “Juliet’s having a crisis, and since this has never happened before, I want a front-row seat.”
He didn’t respond or look at me. I left SpongeBob on and returned to the kitchen. “I think Dad just said my name.”
“Good for you,” Mom said.
My sister looked like hell, despite the fact that Pepper was now licking away her tears. “What’s wrong, sis?” I asked.
“My life is falling apart.”
“Oh, that.” My mom cut me a look. “Sorry. Is it really, Jules? You have the world’s best husband, two healthy girls, that incredible job, a house, health care, money . . .”
She started crying again, and I felt evil. But come on. First-world problems, people!
“She’s overwhelmed,” Mom said. “She’s allowed to be overwhelmed, Sadie. Your sister has done more with her life than anyone I know.”
“Point taken. You have, Jules. You’re amazing and impressive and sometimes even likable.”
“Sadie!” Mom snapped, but my sister snorted a little, then blew her nose.
“Here’s an idea,” I said. “Mom, no offense, but you look wrung out. As much as we all enjoy my role as flaky little sister, why don’t you let me take over for a couple days? You two go to . . . I don’t know. Go to the city. Go to Boston. I’ll stay with Dad, and if your girls need anything, I can handle it if Oliver’s at work.”
“Sadie. The town’s anniversary is less than a month away,” Mom started. “I have a thousand things to do.”
“I think you’re allowed to have a day or two off, even if you run the universe, Mother. Especially after the winter you’ve had.”
“She’s right,” Juliet said, her voice thick, tears still dripping. “You need some time to recharge.”
“You’re going, too, Juliet. The two of you are best friends, and don’t bother denying it. I’m Dad’s favorite, at least. Oh! I know. That shithead Alexander took me to this great place last year. If he was good at anything, it was self-indulgence.” I pulled out my phone and typed a few words. “The Mandarin Oriental in Boston. Amazing spa.” Expensive spa. “I’ll treat. I just sold a big painting.”
“I’ll pay,” Jules said.
“Let me be the rich one this time,” I said, tapping away. “Okay? Okay. That’s settled. Ta-da! I just booked you a room for two nights with a couple hours at the spa. You go, girls. Throw some stuff into a bag, order room service, shop, eat, go on a duck boat. Enjoy. Relax. It’s an order.”
They looked at each other. “I will if you will,” Jules said, and Mom smiled and went upstairs to pack
A half hour later, they were gone, and I had to admit, it was kind of nice, being all bossy and in charge, like my mother.
I went into the living room. “Crisis averted, or at least delayed,” I told my father. “So now it’s just you and me, Dad.” My doggy was creeping into the chair next to him, trying to be tiny. “And Pepper, of course.”
“Dog.”
“Yes! High five, Dad!” I held up my hand, but he didn’t respond. “You’re really getting better. I’m so proud of you. Can you say that again? Dog? Dog?”
He didn’t. The words were infrequent, but they were words. That brain elasticity was coming back.
For the rest of the day, we hung out. Took a slow walk around the town green, saying hi to some people we knew, stopping in