Even when it was hard. Even when it meant putting off our dreams.
“I think we have ice cream in the freezer if you really need a treat. Good night, everybody,” I said, then booked it to my room before Jen could ask me for anything else.
Maybe I wasn’t the best sister I could be. To be fair, neither was she. Especially lately. But love and determination would help us pull through.
I peeled my clothes off before crawling into bed, the sweet aroma of perfume enveloping me along with the foggy, powerful memory of Angel’s nose brushing mine.
What would’ve happened if he kissed me?
A spark?
A slap?
Something…interesting, at least.
I nuzzled the pillow, my brain fuzzy with an imaginary bed of flowers and a pretty, winged man lying beside me.
Chapter four
Smash or Pass
The next morning, Jen waddled to my room with a fresh plate of buttered toast. “Want some? I made too much.”
No one made too much toast on accident.
“Thanks.” I bit into a slice, the sweet crunch dancing on my tongue. It needed something. Honey, maybe? Or chocolate-hazelnut spread. Strawberries.
Why’d I crave dessert first thing in the morning?
Crumbs spilled to the floorboards. I gasped and covered my mouth. “Oh no. I’ll get the vacuum.”
She shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll clean when everyone’s at work.”
Huh. I wondered if that was her way of making up for the potato chip crumble last night.
Jen munched on another slice. “I told Mom I’d pitch in for one of those robot vacs, but she wants to wait until that shopping channel has a flash sale.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Until then, we should probably eat at the table.” I took the plate and supported my sister’s elbow as we painstakingly went downstairs.
Each stair took a while.
Four seconds, to be exact. And a long way to go.
“So, how are you doing?” I asked, mulling over a few old family pictures on the wall. Kat often slung her arms around us or goofed at the camera, whereas Jen would pose more formally, even as a kid. But we had a few shots over the years where Kat’d made us all laugh or reigned it in to match others’ energy. Could we find that middle ground again?
Jen offered me a tentative smile. “We got a new ultrasound.”
“You did? That’s great.” I restrained myself from shaking her with excitement. No shaking babies. Or pregnant ladies.
“Yeah.” She huffed.
Was itnotgreat?
“Baby’s healthy?” I confirmed.
“Yep,” she said, placing her palm over the curve of her belly as we got to kitchen.
Dad glanced up from his newspaper and tipped his coffee cup to us in greeting. “Good morning.”
