“That’s not fair!”
“Why not? You’re going to tell Sean. I don’t have a husband, so Mac it is.”
Rory’s body language went cold as she snapped her mouth shut and averted her eyes.
Odd. “Hey, is everything—”
“Fine, you can tell Mac. But absolutely not Nat. I have to draw the line somewhere. Girl’s got a mouth bigger than an eighteen-wheeler, and she doesn’t care who knows her business—orours.”
“Agreed.”
With a clipped nod, Rory stalked back toward the group waiting by the bar, immediately diving into a spiel about stone samples for the front of the bar surround and matching it with an accent wall to give it a nice pop.
Well, that was easier than she’d thought it’d be. Half of her expected Rory to recant on their agreement and run off midsentence, straight to their parents’ house, and spill everything that’d make Willow’s life a living hell. But she was going on a bit of blind faith here. This was a chance for her and Rory to grow closer, and she got the distinct feeling her sister needed it even more than she did.
As Rory spoke, Willow sidled up next to Finn, no longer able to deny the relief she felt whenever another person found out about the two of them. It made her giddy…and a little foolish. Reaching out, she hooked her finger around his pinkie. He slid her a look, his lips tipping up at the corners at what could be considered the subtlest touch by anyone’s definition. But to Willow, her pinkie hooked in his felt like a proclamation from a mountaintop.
She wasn’t quite ready for that. Wasn’t sure she’d ever be. Not when Finn was still leaving and heading back to California. But maybe it was okay in this small circle of people—people Finn trusted. And if Willow couldn’t trust her sister to have her back, she had more problems than the fury her daddy would rain down on her if he ever found out she was tangled up with one of the Thomas boys again.
Rory glanced over then, cutting off midsentence as her eyes dipped to where Willow’s finger was hooked in Finn’s. For the briefest moment, Willow swore she saw longing cross her sister’s face. A second later, the perfect Rory mask was back in place, and all was right in the world.
* * *
Willow sat on her parents’back porch swing, her sisters flanking her. They’d gotten a bit of a reprieve from the heat wave, and a nice breeze—warm as it was—made the evening June air almost tolerable, especially with the chorus of cicadas singing and frogs croaking, the sounds of her childhood making her feel at home. Their weekly family dinners were as carved in stone as the girls’ lunches, and the four of them—three, now that Nat had left—had always sat outside after supper and cleanup. It’d been the one time they felt close, even if they weren’t.
After a few moments, Mac finally broke the silence. “Can’t quite figure it out, Rory.”
Rory stiffened but kept on her calm-as-a-cucumber mask. “What’s that?”
Mac leaned forward so she could see Rory around Willow. “Why you’re helpin’ the Thomas boys. And don’t worry—I’m not gonna rat you out.” Mac rolled her eyes as though the idea were ridiculous. Which it was, especially from Mac—she was the most loyal person Willow had ever known.
Rory was quiet for a minute, just the creaking of the porch swing filling the silence. “I’m… I’ve been thinkin’ about maybe using my degree.”
Willow snapped her head to stare at her sister in shock. Yes, Rory had gone off to college to get a degree, but Willow had always assumed it had just been for show. That her sister had no real desire to do anything but be the perfect wife and mother—something she was exceptionally good at. “You have? Since when?”
Rory shrugged, keeping her gaze straight ahead. “Couple years.”
“Years?” Mac asked, astonishment ringing in her voice.
“Since Ella started school and I didn’t need to be around as much. But I—” Rory snapped her mouth shut and shook her head.
Willow glanced back at Mac and gave her awhat the helllook because you could about knock her over with a feather. She’d never in a million years dreamed her sister would actually belongingfor something. Just went to show not everything was always as it seemed. Mac just shrugged and shook her head in response.
Willow turned back to her older sister. “Well, I think it’s…”
“Dumb,” Rory said. “It’s dumb.”
Willow reached out and placed her hand on her sister’s arm. “No, Rory. I don’t think it’s dumb at all. I think it’s great.”
Rory twisted her head in Willow’s direction, her mouth dropped open. “You do?”
“I really do. From what I’ve seen at Finn’s, you’re good at it—reallygood at it. And it’s about time you did something just for yourself.” Willow’d always thought Rory had felt completely fulfilled being a wife and mother, but maybe that hadn’t been it at all. Maybe her sister longed for things she didn’t think she could have…just like everyone else.
Mac leaned forward to peek around Willow. “Have you talked to Sean about it?”
Rory straightened, her lips pressing into a tight line. “No. Which is why I’d appreciate it if this could stay between the three of us.”
Willow and Mac exchanged another look—they’d definitely be talking about this once they got home. But for now, Mac answered for them both. “As long as you’ve got Willow’s back, we’ve got yours.”
