Now what?
If her sister had ventured out again, it was doubtful she’d answer her phone.
A quick drive through town would—
Wait.
What was that noise?
Devyn cocked her ear.
The sound was impossible to identify, but it seemed to be coming from the basement.
She strode to the door in the hall that led downstairs. Pulled it open.
The noise was louder here, and definitely wafting up from the lower level.
It sounded like ... a sewing machine?
“Lauren?”
The noise stopped.
“Yes. I’m down here.”
Devyn descended the steps, pausing at the bottom to take in the scene.
Bingo on the sewing machine. It sat against the far wall on a long table, Lauren in front of it. The rest of the surface was filled with colorful fabric.
“I got dinner at the Myrtle. What are you doing?” Devyn crossed to her.
“Trying to sew. Emphasis on trying.” Frustration scored her words. “I should be able to do this by rote, but I have to think through each step and double-check everything.”
“Be patient. Everything will smooth out in time.” She picked up a half-finished quilted item in an intricate, contemporary pattern that looked like it was destined to be a shoulder tote. “This is beautiful. I didn’t know you sewed, let alone quilted.”
“I used to make all my own clothes.”
“Seriously? I have trouble even sewing the ribbons on my toe shoes.”
“Necessity is the mother of invention.” Lauren flipped off the light on the machine, covered it, and reached for her cane. “Or in this case, of sewing.”
At the hard edge to her voice, Devyn hesitated. It might not be wise to pursue the subject ... but her sister’s comment begged for a follow-up. “What does that mean?”
Lauren shifted around in her seat to face her, resentment emanating from her. “It means that while you were wearing fancy tutus and prancing across the stage in tulle, I was making my own prom dress from discount fabric on a sewing machine I bought at a garage sale.” She pushed herself to her feet. “There wasn’t money for pricey clothes in our budget.”
Because the money had gone toward ballet expenses.
Devyn took a slow breath.
How on earth was she ever going to get past the simmering anger that seemed to boil up whenever the two of them talked?
Especially since Lauren’s antagonism was justified.
The truth was, her traininghadbeen expensive. Too expensive for a man who’d driven a truck for a living, even with the scholarships she’d received that had helped offset some of the costs.
At the same time, it wasn’t like she and Mom had lived an extravagant lifestyle in San Francisco or New York. Far from it.
And maybe she ought to share that with Lauren.
