Home with My Sisters (19 page)

“Would you just—leave this where Josh—only Josh—can find it?” Austin slipped her a folded-up piece of paper.

“Sure,” Hope said. She glanced at it.

“Would you mind not reading it?” Austin said. “It's just between us guys.”

“Sure.” He was passing Josh a private note? Was that sweet or weird? She was dying to read it. But Austin had been good to her. To all of them. She would honor his wishes.

“Thank you.” Austin searched the counter. “Show me how to make those Shirley Temples,” he said with fake enthusiasm. Hope laughed and the two of them began making drinks. The folded-up piece of paper in her jeans pocket actually felt warm. What did it say? Was Austin right to be so worried? Should Hope be doing something? Did Austin know that the cologne he was wearing was driving her slowly insane?

“Try this,” Austin said, handing her a drink.

Hope looked at the sparkly red drink. “Is it with or without alcohol?” she whispered.

“For you?” he said, leaning in with a grin. “Definitely with.”

His eyes were bright, almost gleaming. Every time she was around him she felt a little bit like a kite rising into the air. Another spark passed between them. She smiled. “Cheers to you,” she said. They clinked glasses.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“For what?”

“It feels like Christmas,” he said, his hand sneaking over and touching hers. “For the first time in a very long time, it feels like Christmas.”

CHAPTER 20

The next day the Garland Girls agreed to spend the morning doting on Yvette. Hope rose early to feed Mr. Jingles and give him some attention. He seemed perfectly happy sleeping in the mudroom at night, and was eager to return to the outdoors, no matter how cold. They also left a portion of the barn open for him so he could curl up in the hay whenever he needed a break. Once Mr. Jingles was taken care of, the mission was breakfast in bed for Yvette. Hope was the first to wake and she ventured into each of her sisters' rooms and roused them. Faith practically bounced out of bed, which made Hope hate her just a little, but Joy reacted like a drunk who had just passed out. She flailed and moaned, and threw a pillow over her head. Faith yanked it off, grabbed her feet, and then began to pull Joy out of bed. There was a lump under the covers beside her. “If you don't get up I'm telling Granny that Harrison is sleeping in your bed.”

Joy cursed underneath her breath. “Okay, okay. Stop. I'm coming.” Hope figured it was a rare day that Joy was up before the sun—yet another reason she should reconsider her coffee shop—but she trudged downstairs with them nonetheless. Hope immediately set to finding a bowl to mix the pancake batter, and Faith grabbed a frying pan and bacon. “ ‘I can bring home the bacon,' ” she started to sing.

“ ‘Fry it up in a pan,' ” Hope joined in.

“How's the rest go?” Faith said. “ ‘Never ever let you forget you're a man.' ” She sang into Hope's wooden spoon and swayed her hips.

“ ‘Cause I'm a woman,' ” Hope crooned, joining in on the dance as well. Faith and Hope exploded into laughter, and then they shushed each other.

“You guys are weird.” Joy sauntered over to the windows overlooking the backyard.

“Mom used to sing that,” Hope said. “Remember?”

“Does it look like I remember?” Joy said. Faith looked at Hope and rolled her eyes.

It was a crisp day. Hope predicted more snow would fall. Maybe today they could try out skating on the pond. This crew needed something to cheer them up.

“It's so peaceful,” Joy said.

Thank God. Maybe she was starting to feel it. Maybe she was starting to recognize its importance. “Doesn't it feel like home?” Hope said as she cracked an egg into the silver bowl.

“No, it feels like the answer to my coffee shop,” Joy said.

“Don't start,” Faith said. “I haven't even had coffee.”

“See? If I had a coffee shop you could stop in and have some whenever you want.”

“Who are you kidding?” Faith said. “You'd probably charge us double.”

“A sister's surtax,” Hope said.

Joy turned around and treated them to a smug look. The only thing she was missing was her tongue sticking out. Hope wanted to fling pancake batter in her face. Maybe Faith was right—no talking without coffee.

“How about you start practicing your skills?” Faith said to Joy.

Joy crinkled her face. “What do you mean?”

“Make a pot of coffee, dork,” Faith said. Hope laughed, then clapped her hand over her mouth.

“This is why I hate spending time with you two,” Joy said. She grudgingly moved toward the coffeepot.

“I'm not laughing at you,” Hope said. “I'm laughing at Faith. She used to call everybody a dork. I'd forgotten that.”

“Finally, something I remember,” Joy said. “Didn't she make a sign for her room that said ‘Stay Out Dorks!' . . . ?”

“She did!” Hope said. “It took me a week of puzzling over that sign to realize that Joy and I were the dorks.”

Faith laughed. “Is that why you didn't pay it any attention?” Faith glanced at the tree. “We need mood lighting.” She left the bacon sizzling, then hopped over to plug in the tree. The lights reflected in the window behind them, each color glowing back. The sun still wasn't up, but the darkness was a comforting hush. Hope wanted to capture this moment forever, freeze it in time. If only that were possible.

“Your boyfriend was asking me a lot of questions about Josh last night,” Faith said out of the blue.

“Harrison?” Joy whirled around, as if ready for a fight.

“Austin,” Faith said.

Joy started the coffeepot gurgling and hopped onto the counter. She never was one for stools. “You and Austin?” she said to Hope.

“Faith is just teasing,” Hope said.

“Am not,” Faith said. “You have a total crush on him.”

Joy pointed at her sister. “You still turn bright red when you're lying.”

“Shut up.” Hope lobbed enough butter in the pan to satisfy a hedonist.

“Not saying I blame you,” Joy said. “He's hot. For a white guy.”

“I really like Harrison for you,” Hope said.

“What do you mean ‘for me'?” Joy said.

“I mean—he's a nice guy.” Hope sighed. Why was it that Joy took every single thing out of her mouth as a hostile act? Sometimes it was just exhausting to be around Joy.

“You're supposed to be helping,” Faith said, eyeing Joy on the counter.

“I made coffee,” Joy said.

Faith thrust a bowl of apples at Joy. “Wash and cut these.”

“I'll check on the coffee,” Joy said. She hopped off the counter, stood in front of the coffeepot, and stared at it.

Faith tried to engage Hope in a look, but Hope kept her eyes on the first batch of pancakes threatening to bubble in the pan. She didn't want to gang up on Joy. But she did want apple pancakes in the next batch, so she headed for the apples. Just as Hope had reached the sink to wash them, Faith stepped in front of her.

“Joy is going to do that.”

“I don't mind,” Hope said. She stepped left. Faith cut her off again. “Faith!”

“I already asked Joy to do that.”

“What is your problem?” Joy said. “I'm making coffee.”

“No, you're watching a coffeepot. The job is done. Move on to the next task.”

Faith grabbed the bowl of apples. Hope didn't loosen her grip. They played tug-of-war. “Let go,” Faith said.

“What is your problem?” Hope said.

“Same as yours,” Faith said. “It's just what you were talking about.” Faith shot a look of disapproval Joy's way. Oh no. Faith was going to get her in trouble. What had Hope said to Faith about Joy?

“How's that?” Joy asked.

“We both think you've become a spoiled brat and we're sick of it,” Faith said.

“Oh God,” Hope said. “Why?” She let go of the bowl and Faith stumbled. An apple tumbled out and rolled across the floor.

“Couldn't wait to get together again to bash me down,” Joy said.

“Those weren't my exact words,” Hope said.

“You want to talk about spoiled?” Joy said.

“Let's not,” Hope said. “Say, what do you two crazy girls want for Christmas?” Hope waved her wooden spoon in the air. Maybe she should grab a paper towel and make a little white flag. “Come on, guys, we're supposed to be making breakfast for our dying grandmother here. Remember?”

Joy stepped up to Faith and jabbed her index finger at her. “Josh is a walking time bomb. He hates everybody and everything. And Brittany is absolutely starved for attention.”

Hope watched Faith's nostrils flare. It was just as fascinating to watch as when they were teenagers. Gorgeous Faith would suddenly morph into a horse. A raging stallion. Her nostrils were the most expressive Hope had ever seen. “You have no right to judge my children.”

“I'm not. I'm judging
you
.”

“How dare you. I'm a good mother. You have no idea how hard it is.”

“It must be. After all, you're sneaking off every two seconds to take Xanax and make phone calls. Who are you calling? And where's your husband? If your life is so freaking perfect—”

Faith slammed the bowl down on the counter. “I never said my life was perfect. It's not perfect. I'm not perfect. Are you happy?” Faith plucked an apple out of the bowl and lobbed it at Joy. She ducked and it hit Hope in the chest.

“Ow,” Hope said. “Stop that.” She stomped back to the pancakes just as smoke curled up from the pan. Saved just in time. Someone would like them a little crispy. She began slipping them onto the spatula and dropping them on a plate.

Joy stormed up to the bowl of apples and began gathering them in her arms. “You're rich, you're married, you don't have to work, you have offspring as you remind us every single time we talk to you. Oh, boo hoo, what a tough life!”

Hope whirled around. “I swear to God, if you throw those apples,” she said to Joy.

“You'll what?” Joy said. “Gang up on me along with Miss Perfect here?” Joy lobbed an apple at Hope's head. She barely ducked in time. The apple whizzed by her and smacked against the window.

“Oh my God, you're going to break something,” Hope said.

“I was aiming for your head,” Joy said. She held another apple up threateningly.

“Cut it out!” Hope yelled.

“I'm getting a divorce.” Faith's voice cut through the air.

Hope had been poised to pour the next round of batter into the pan. Instead of making separate little circles, she was so startled she just dumped the entire thing in the pan. “Faithy,” Hope said. She put down the bowl and approached Faith, who was separating greasy strips of bacon and hurling them at the pan.

“The kids don't know. Don't you dare say a word.”

“We won't,” Hope said.

“What did he do?” Joy said.

“He married me,” Faith said.

“Well, that was his first mistake,” Joy said. “But still.”

“I'm the bad guy, all right? I'm the one having an affair.” Hope was about to respond, although she hadn't quite figured out what to say—
Ms. Perfect was having an affair?—
when the sound of footsteps running along the upper hall echoed down. Faith's head snapped up. So did Hope and Joy's. They didn't see anyone, but a few seconds later heard the sound of a door slamming.

“Oh God,” Faith said. “It's one of the kids. Oh God. They heard me.”

“You don't know that,” Hope said.

“Of course she does,” Joy said. “Didn't you hear the running and the slamming?” Hope gave Joy a dirty look. Joy stuck her tongue out.

“Oh my God,” Faith said again. “What am I going to do?”

“Who are you sleeping with?” Joy asked. She sounded way too excited for the details. Changing Joy was going to be a lifelong project.

“Charlie,” Faith said. “I'm in love with Charlie.” She gave a little laugh. Joy looked at Hope and mouthed “Charlie?” Hope shrugged.

“Does Stephen know?” Hope asked gently. She'd been so sure that Stephen had done something wrong she felt a little guilty.

“He caught us on the living room sofa,” Faith said.

“Awesome,” Joy said. Faith and Hope both looked at her sharply. “Oh, come off it. I happen to applaud a wild spirit. Stephen was too stuffy for you, and Hope—you said so yourself.”

Oh God. None of them could keep their mouths shut. This was why they never got together. Hope suddenly had a hard time remembering why that ever bothered her.

“Stephen is a good man, and a good provider, and a good father,” Faith said.

“And yet,” Joy pointed out, “you're sleeping with Charlie.”

“I never said anything against Stephen,” Hope said.

“You said he's stuffy,” Joy said. “And closed-minded.”

“Don't you ever know when to shut your mouth?” Hope said. She turned her back on Joy. “Faithy. I didn't mean it.”

“Oh yes, you did,” Faith said. “Looks like you talk about both of us behind our backs.”

“What about you two?” Hope said. “Just because you talk about me in front of my face you think that makes it okay?” Joy pulled her right arm back and hurled another apple across the room. It thunked against the wall, then burst open like a mini-grenade sending shards scattering before it smashed to the ground.

“Those aren't baseballs!” Faith said. “You're so freaking immature.”

“So?” Joy threw another one.

“Stop it!” Faith screamed.

“Something's burning,” Faith said. Sure enough the big blob of a pancake had little stacks of smoke rising from its center. Hope lunged forward, turned off the stove, and removed the pan.

“What in the world?” Yvette raced into the room. She could move really fast for someone in her condition. “Where's the fire?”

“We got it,” Hope said. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, Granny,” Joy said. “We were trying to surprise you.”

“Oh, I'm surprised all right. Didn't know you were in that much of a hurry to kill me off.”

Hope picked up the empty bowl from the counter and shoved it at Joy. “Pick up the apples before someone falls and breaks a hip.”

“Is that a veiled reference to me?” Yvette said.

“No,” Hope said. “Anyone could fall and break a hip.”

“I might be riddled with cancer, but my bones are perfectly strong, thank you very much,” Yvette said.

“I'm sure they are,” Hope said.

Joy snatched the bowl out of her hands. “There's coffee,” she called to Yvette. “I made it myself.”

Brittany and Josh stomped down the stairs. Faith looked stricken. From their expressions, both of them knew about Faith's affair by now.

“Who wants crispy pancakes?” Hope said.