long overdue. Family is always there for you, and coming home feels good. Believe me, I needed this reminder too. When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait to get out of here, but now I’m like, when’s the next time I can come back?”
She smiled. “Sure that’s not because someone handcuffed you to the bed last night?”
I laughed. “That might have something to do with it. But it was in the kitchen, not the bedroom. Later, we did it in his bed—and also on the floor.”
That got a laugh out of her. “Oh my God, you’re a maniac.”
“Possibly. But it feels so damn good with him, Sylvia. I’ve never felt so free with anyone before.”
She tilted her head. “Better be careful. Sounds like there are some feelings beyond friendship there.”
I hopped off the bed and busied myself going through my suitcase for clean clothes. “That can’t happen. We agreed at the start, this is just friendly fun and ends when I go back to DC.”
“And when is that?”
“After the wedding. Sunday.” Dropping to my knees, I rummaged through piles of underwear and jeans and tops, not seeing anything. Sunday was way too close. So close it made my throat hurt.
My sister sighed. “I don’t even know if Brett will come for the wedding.”
I looked at her over one shoulder. “Seriously? He’d blow off Frannie’s wedding?”
She shrugged. “He just keeps saying how busy he is, and what an inconvenient time this is for him to travel. But I think it’s just an excuse to avoid time with me. And I’ll be so embarrassed if he doesn’t show. What will I even do?”
I wanted to punch Brett in his smug handsome face for making her feel bad about herself. It was inconceivable to me. This was Sylvia, the leader of the pack, the beautiful one, the pageant queen. The one who did everything right. The one we all aspired to be. How had life beaten her down this way?
“Hey.” Getting to my feet, I went over and sat on the bed again. Took her hands in mine. “You know what we’re going to do today?”
“What?” She sniffed.
“We’re going to go to the spa and get facials and massages to relax us. We’re going to drink champagne and tell dirty jokes and fun stories. We’re going to hit up the salon and get gorgeous. And then we’re going to go out on the town, just us—the Sawyer Sisters on tour.”
She laughed. “Sounds like fun, but I have kids, remember?”
“Mom and Dad can watch them.”
“Mom will probably want to come,” she pointed out.
“So the kids can stay here with Dad and veg out on the couch and eat junk food and watch movies with him.”
“They’d love that.” She sighed. “I don’t allow them to eat junk food at home.”
“Of course you don’t. I need to remember to ship them each a case of Twinkies every Christmas.”
She looked horrified. “Oh God, are you still eating those things? Meg, they have a shelf life of like two hundred years!”
“I know.” I smiled. “But they are delicious, and during the zombie apocalypse, I’ll be all set. I’ll be able to wait it out in my pantry.”
“You’re insane.” But her smile matched mine. “But you’re having great sex and you seem really happy, so maybe I should stop with all the non-GMO, gluten-free, organic bullshit and start eating Twinkies.”
I patted her knee. “Now you’re talking.”
On our way to the spa, I convinced my mother to pull into the grocery store parking lot. “I’ll be right back,” I told her, jumping out of the back seat.
In the passenger seat, Sylvia laughed. “Why do I have a feeling I know what you’re running in there to buy?”
“Hush,” I told her before shutting the door and hurrying into the store. Ten minutes later I came out carrying bags full of champagne bottles and boxes of Twinkies.
“Oh, Meg, for heaven’s sake.” My mother looked at the bags and shook her head. “You’re not ten years old anymore.”
“I know, Mom. That’s why I got the champagne.”
She clucked her tongue and frowned at me. “Good grief. And what’s that mark on your face? Is it dirt?” For a second, I thought she might lick her finger and try to wipe it off like she used to do when we were kids.
“It’s nothing, Mom.”
“I hit her this morning,” Sylvia said, cracking up. “We got into a fight.”
My mother backed out of her parking spot, muttering, “This place is going to think we’re crazy.”