"It's all over Facebook," Meg said. "Ida was very excited."
"You could buy a sandwich at her general store," I said.
"I'd rather buy it fresh from you."
I stared at my sister for a moment. "You just want to hear about the guy."
"Ida was under the impression that you practically ripped off your shirt and had sex with him on the floor."
"Ida wasn't even here," I complained as I took out the ingredients for Meg's sandwich. "Prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella arugula sandwich with pesto aioli?"
"You know it! You make the best sandwiches," my sister said. Then she prompted, "Ida said the guy was a Svensson and he left a card?"
"Yes and yes, but don't worry. He's clearly a piece of shit, and I will never get involved with him."
"Good," Meg said, looking relieved. "Svenssons are bad news."
"I know. I was there." It went silent for an uncomfortable moment. Meg didn't like to talk about what had happened between her and Hunter Svensson.
"Minnie and Rose miss you," Meg said, breaking the silence. "You should come by for dinner. They're almost in high school. Soon they'll be off to college." She took out her credit card to pay me.
"You don't have to. It's not going to keep," I said.
"I'm paying you anyway," Meg said firmly. "You're running a business."
I always felt crappy when my older sister treated me like a child. It felt condescending. However, the cold hard truth was that I really didn't have much to show for myself.
"This was a mistake," I said, wrapping up the sandwich.
"What?"
"All of it. Just go ahead and say, 'I told you so.'"
Meg looked sad. "It would have been fine if Uncle Barry had done what he promised our parents and used the inheritance to pay for your college education like he was supposed to."
"Where is all the money?" I asked, handing Meg her sandwich.
"I don't know." Meg pursed her lips. Along with Hunter, Uncle Barry was a sore point. Our father hadn't legally left my sisters and me anything when he'd died. Uncle Barry was left in charge of all the funds and property from my father. Barry was nice enough, but he was starting to grow a little senile. I had long ago given up hope that he would see me and my sisters as anything other than cute but useless little girls.
"You should be mayor," I grumbled. "Uncle Barry is barely cognizant. There should at least be a term limit or something. You do all the work. And he treats you like a secretary."
"That's just how it is," Meg said brusquely, standing up to leave. "Don't forget about dinner."
I sulked after Meg left. It seemed like she and I could never have a normal sisterly conversation without it derailing.
Ever since our parents died, Meghan had been irritable and stressed out. The only time I really saw her relaxed and happy was her brief stint with Hunter. Of course it had all gone horribly south. Was that what happened with the Loring girls? Were our lives destined to be train wrecks?
Another Svensson wandered into my thoughts as I finished setting up the second-floor studio. I forced myself not to think about him. It was just his tattoos; I was attracted to the pictures.
Right, Hazel, of course.I couldn't think about Archer. I had bigger problems.
"Yoo-hoo!" Ida called. "I'm ready to do some nude painting."
Olivia's grandmother huffed up the stairs. She was wearing a stereotypical painter's outfit complete with a beret and striped tights.
"Sorry it's a little warm up here," I said.
"Why don't you make us some cocktails?" Ida suggested with a wink.
