Lake Magic - By Kimberly Fisk Page 0,24

She had access to all the books, to the business records and documents. There had been nothing preventing her from gaining full knowledge of Blue Sky’s financial obligations. So why hadn’t she?

Because it had been easier to leave it all in Steven’s hands, to let him make the tough decisions. She had been an equal partner on paper but not in truth. And that reality was a hard pill to swallow. But Steven had seemed to prefer it that way. And so had she. While he’d been building Blue Sky, she’d been building their life. She had ideas for the business, but there were more important things, like dreaming of soon. Soonthey’d be married. Soonthey’d start a family. But soon had turned out to be as far away as the moon and just as unattainable.

A car pulled off the main road and made its way down her driveway. Headlights arced across the yard, momentarily illuminating the still lake before the car parked and the lights were doused.

On any other night, Jenny would have been surprised by a late-night visitor. She knew that by avoiding her mother’s calls ever since the scene in the restaurant, it was only a matter of time before someone from her family showed up. Her only question was which one of her family members it would be. Her bet was on Dad. The peacemaker.

But it wasn’t her dad, Jenny noted a few moments later as her sister made her way up the stairs. The porch was dimly lit, but even in the faint light, Jenny could see that Anna was as impeccably dressed as always. Only her sister could work a fifteen-hour day at the hospital and still look like she’d just stepped out of the pages of a high fashion magazine. Only Anna and their mother.

Anna’s high heels clicked against the wooden porch as she made her way toward Jenny.

“Hey,” Jenny said, trying hard not to tense.

Just for a day, she wondered what it would be like to be her sister, to be someone for whom everything came easily. Marriage. Career. Raising her son. All Anna had to do was want something, and it was hers.

Her sister sat down in the rocking chair nearest Jenny. With only a small table and a couple of feet separating them, it was easy to see the perpetual look of disapproval and disappointment on Anna’s face. “Hello, Jenny.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked quickly, before Anna could start firing questions at her. Jenny wanted to turn the conversation far away from the topic her sister had undoubtedly been sent here to discuss. “There’s some leftover dinner on the stove.”

“You cooked?” Her sister didn’t bother to hide her surprise or her alarm.

“Soup. From a can.”

“Thank God,” Anna said with a solemnity that bordered on hysterical. “The last time I ate your cooking, I was sick for a week.”

“It wasn’t a week.” Only a sister could say something like that and get away with it.

“You’re right; it was four days.”

Jenny couldn’t help it, she laughed. It was well-known—and a well-trotted-out joke at each family gathering—that she was a bad cook. No, not bad, horrid. She’d never given cooking much thought until after she and Steven had gotten engaged. Wanting to be the best wife she could possibly be, she’d set out to learn. The third time the fire department had shown up at her house, she grudgingly accepted defeat. Or, almost. Every once in a while she mustered up the nerve to give it another try. And each time she was met with the same disastrous results. It was humiliating, but at least now she was humiliated in private.

“If you won’t eat my cooking, how about a glass of wine? Even I can’t screw that up.”

Anna smiled. “Sounds great.”

Jenny disappeared inside the house and was back outside a few moments later, wine bottle and glass in hand. She handed Anna the glass of chardonnay.

“Thanks,” her sister said, watching as Jenny refilled her own near-empty glass, which was sitting on the small table between them.

“Rough day?” Anna asked when Jenny took her seat.

“You have to ask?”

“No.” Anna took a sip of wine. “Mom’s worried about you.”

“She doesn’t need to be.”

“Grow up, Jenny. She worries about you so much she doesn’t have time to think about anyone else.”

The reproach in her sister’s tone was nothing new, but it stung nonetheless. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.”

Jenny fell silent. No matter what she said, her sister would find fault. But this time she knew there was

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