“No.” Miss Bobbie drew the word out cautiously. “She wasn’t the same after he left her.”
Juliette’s jaw dropped and shock rattled her to the core. “What?”
“Papa left Mama?” Vivianne clutched her chest and her lashes fluttered back.
“No.” Adrienne shook her head in disbelief, ready to dismiss such an outrageous claim. “Everyone knew Papa was a flirt, but he never acted on it. The accident took him from us, not another woman. Our parents weren’t separated. He loved her…mostly.”
“You girls need to go have a chitchat with your mama.” Miss Bobbie’s wrinkled lips pressed into a thin line. She adjusted the purple-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, then rolled up the sleeves of her overly bright hot pink floral blouse. “I’ll clean this up.”
Juliette apologized again, profusely, to Erin. But she waved away her concern. “Just call me in the morning, and we’ll grab a coffee.”
The sisters walked out of Lovely Mud and into the brisk winter night. The air felt different to Juliette, thick and chilling, the sort that seeped down deep into her bones. It wasn’t quite cold enough for snow, but it was definitely the perfect conditions for freezing rain.
Adrienne buried herself in her coat and shivered. “Well. That was eventful.”
“I’ll say.” Vivianne scrolled through photos she’d taken on her phone. “I got some great action shots for Lovely Mud. Before the fight broke out, that is.”
“So.” Adrienne looped her arm through Vivianne’s, and her twin snuggled up close. “Can you two fix whatever is broken here so we can address the possibility of our parents being divorced?”
Juliette pulled her baby sister aside, and let years of regret flow from her. “I’m sorry, Anne-Sophie. I am so sorry. Leaving the three of you behind was a mistake, but cutting myself off from you was the worst decision I ever made.” She pulled the slip of paper that had fallen from the pages of her design magazine from her coat and held it out to Anne-Sophie. “You looked up to me. And I let you down.”
Anne-Sophie analyzed the wrinkled paper with the bubbly handwriting. A look of puzzlement furrowed her brow. “You still have this?”
“I just found it,” Juliette admitted. “I never opened my interior design magazines once I got to DC. Mama had already planted the seed of failure. It hurt too much to even look at them.”
Anne-Sophie reached out and took her hand, the warmth of her supple leather gloves enclosing Juliette’s chilled skin. “I should’ve called.”
“I wouldn’t have answered.” The truth was often a bitter pill to swallow, and Juliette found this one in particular seemed to lodge in the back of her throat. Shame heated her skin, flushing her with embarrassment and guilt. “I was so determined to be someone else, I lost sight of who I was from the beginning. I pushed away the only people who ever mattered.”
Silence settled between them, the shifting sort, where there was so much left to say, but the words could not be found.
“I’m sorry,” Juliette repeated. “So very sorry. I should’ve come back sooner.”
Anne-Sophie rushed into her arms, smearing mud and clay between them, and Juliette was overwhelmed with a memory she’d shut out long ago. A memory of a much smaller version of her sister, when Anne-Sophie climbed into her lap, smelling of fresh flowers and baby powder, and asked for a story before bed. They would read together with the bedroom light dimmed to a low glow, and Juliette would use her softest voice, pitching the words with practiced gentleness to lull Anne-Sophie to sleep.
Mama must’ve been at work then.
She was always at work.
“You never should’ve left,” Anne-Sophie mumbled. “You never should’ve given up on yourself, either.”
The hour was growing late, and though everyone wanted to discuss their father’s wrongdoings and their mother’s secrets, they decided doing so without including Gabrielle was likely a bad idea.
“It’s possible she knows more than we do.” Vivianne tapped one muddied, glittered nail against her chin. “She is the oldest.”
“I agree. She needs to be a part of the conversation.” Adrienne flicked a glance at her wrist to check the time. “But I’ve got to be at the shop early to receive the flower shipment, so maybe we can all pick a time that works best?”
“Definitely.” Anne-Sophie looked over at Juliette. “Do you need a ride back to the apartment? It feels like it’s going to rain.”
The sky was dark, faintly illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, but a dense layer of clouds was settling in and swallowing up the stars.
“No, I’ll walk.” Juliette didn’t want to trouble her sisters. Plus, the flower shop was in the opposite direction of their family home and Anne-Sophie’s new place in Virginia Beach. “It’s just a few blocks down.”
She said goodbye to her sisters and headed back toward Mystic Florals. A few moments later, the wind picked up. It wound its way through the buildings and homes, gusting in cold spurts off the beach, showering her in a spray of damp air and sea salt. She ducked her head and increased her pace. Tiny droplets of rain sprinkled down, but what started as a frozen yet gentle drizzle quickly morphed into a steadfast downpour. The rain pelted her from all angles. It soaked her hair and left her coat sodden. Puddles of rainwater mixed with beach sand splashed up around her boots, and the hardening clay from the pottery class turned into a reddish-brown, muddy slop.
Juliette darted toward the front door of the flower shop. She searched her purse for her key, then frantically checked her pockets. It was nowhere to be found. She must have left it in her bedroom before she went to Lovely Mud to meet her sisters, because Mama had offered to close up the shop instead. Great. She was locked out.
Juliette rattled the doorknob to no avail. Her key was gone and her fingers were frozen. The biting rain stung her skin and caused numbness to settle in her palms. Her teeth chattered to the point where it set her whole body on edge. Every muscle clenched, spasmed against the cold shuddering through her system. Slick clay-mud melted over her clothes and dripped from her face. She clutched her purse to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She should call one of her sisters, but then she’d feel like an absolute fool for refusing their offer to drive her home, and she hated to make them turn around just to come back for her.
