The room was so austere that sounds echoed off the marble, and they both jumped when Mack cleared her throat. “Um ... thank you. I couldn’t have done this without you ...” Mack gestured vaguely in Laurie’s direction instead of finishing withI can’t believe you said yes.
Laurie took a gulp of her wine before clinking the glass down on the counter. “Geezus, Mack. What were you going to do, come to Indianapolis and not stay with me?”
A thousand different defenses bloomed at Mack’s lips but she chose the most honest one. “I didn’t know if you’d want me in your space.”
“I have never not wanted you in my space.” Laurie huffed out a breath and swiped her hand across the counter, searching for imaginary crumbs. “But I couldn’t stay in that place.”
Mack frowned. They’d mostly lived in a pull-behind trailer attached to the same old Bronco Mack drove today, and the sisters only had each other for company while Wes chased checkered flags across the country. He’d give Laurie a ten-dollar bill and instructions to stay away from strangers, and they’d stuff their bellies full of hot dogs and soda and somehow not get abducted. Laurie made it clear she hated the dirty, noisy tracks but never left Mack’s side, always there to fix whatever trouble Mack got herself into. They came home to the house in Haubstadt and attended school just enough for the girls not to get sent to the county truancy office. They’d been happy, Mack thought. She was fourteen when she’d made the podium in Kansas and come home to find Laurie clutching a giant envelope and crying; she’d been accepted to Georgetown. Neither Mack nor Wes had any idea Laurie had such ambitions. She left that summer for college, then stayed gone for the last sixteen years.
“Uh, am I keeping you from anything? You don’t have to babysit me. I need to get to bed anyway. Early morning tomorrow.”
Laurie twisted her wineglass on the counter. Her short fingernails were perfectly shellacked with neutral polish. She shrugged. “Not really. I’m working on a brief for a senior partner. I should let an associate do it but these recent grads are worthless. I can finish it later.”
Her sister had always been smarter than most of the adults they knew. Mack was grateful that racing came to her easily because school had not only been difficult, it had been downright embarrassing next to Laurie’s straight A’s. “I don’t even know what you do, to be honest.”
Laurie leaned forward to rest her forearms on the counter, still twisting the wineglass between her fingers. “I’m in mergers and acquisitions. Basically, I help corporations make money and avoid taxes. A keeper of capitalism.”
She’d always assumed Laurie loved her job—she used work as her excuse to avoid coming home—but her sister didn’t sound very enthusiastic. “But you like being a lawyer?”
Laurie sighed. “Firm culture is extremely competitive and the majority of my clients are spoiled megalomaniacs. Mostly white boomer dudes who’ve never been told no and still struggle to take a woman’s brain seriously. It’s intellectually stimulating work but ...” She shrugged and the silence stretched between them.
“But the money is good.” Mack nodded toward the expensive stainless steel appliances. Laurie glanced around as if she’d just noticed them herself.
“It would be even better if I didn’t have so many student loans, but it’s nothing to sneeze at. They call them golden handcuffs for a reason.” Mack’s brows rose in surprise. She never once thought about how her sister paid for college and law school, but of course she’d had to take out loans. It wasn’t like Wes had any money saved for education. For the first time since Laurie had left, Mack felt sympathy for her, and a little guilt. She’d had to make it on her own without any support, unlike Mack, who’d always had Wes by her side. As if Laurie had heard her thoughts, she drained her wineglass and asked, “How’s Dad?”
“Good. Hasn’t had a seizure in a few months.”
Laurie waggled her fingers in a tell me more motion, and irritation killed Mack’s moment of empathy. If Laurie wanted to know about their dad, she could call him herself.
“He’s still with Billie?” Laurie prompted. “She seems sweet. Texts me pictures of Wes and Shaw.”
Mack pulled a face.
“You don’t like her because . . . ?”
It was annoying how well her sister could read her, especially because Mack didn’t know a damn thing about Laurie anymore. She hated that Laurie could turn her into a petulant younger sister in less than ten minutes. “Her perfume is aggressively floral. She makes something called ‘maca powder pancakes’ that taste like sawdust. She ownsan alarming number of robes with feathers. Obnoxiously cheerful. So not Dad’s type.”
“His usual type is there for one night only.”
Mack huffed but couldn’t find the right words. She didn’t know how to say that with Billie always around, Mack felt lonelier than ever in her own house. So she went for common ground.
“Yeah, well, you’re not there to see them drool over each other. Dad practically pants when she’s around.”
“Ugh. Wes is pathetic around women.”
They shared a smile, and then an awkward silence filled the kitchen, neither of them good at pointless chitchat. In the quiet, Mack thought about Shaw. It had been unnervingly simple to scrape together a plan for the next few weeks. Mack may not buy into Billie’s long-term commitment, but even she could admit that her daughter would be safe and well cared for, and Shaw seemed more excited to ride to school in Billie’s convertible than sad about her mother’s departure. Mack spent two days prepaying bills, making event schedules and extra keys, and reminding her dad where they stored spare parts. In the end, the ease with which she left her life behind scared her.
“How are you feeling about it?” Laurie asked after she’d washed, dried, and put away both of their glasses.
Still thinking about her daughter, Mack said, “Leaving home was hard. I can’t believe I left Shaw. And Dad. And if—”
“Shaw and Dad will be fine,” Laurie interrupted. “It’s about time you got out of Haubstadt anyway.”
Mack rolled her eyes. Laurie was such a snob, always making snide comments about Mack’s small-town life. Just because she hadn’t run off to a big city didn’t mean her life wasn’treal.
“How would you know anything about what my dad and daughter need?” Mack snapped.
Laurie’s olive cheeks flushed, and she straightened the already perfect alignment of dish soap, hand soap, and scrub brush by the sink.
