Finally, Frankie spoke. “How about we get something to eat? I know there’s a lot more to talk about, but we can still have some lunch, can’t we?”
“Sure,” Shar said.
Harper nodded. She wasn’t frowning, but she wasn’t smiling, either. Frankie wished she could read her sister’s mind. Then again, maybe that wouldn’t be such a great idea.
They picked up their menus and had a look. After a minute, the server returned. “Have you ladies decided on what you’d like to eat?”
The server looked at Frankie, so Frankie went first. “I’ll have the club sandwich on wheat toast.”
Shar nodded. “That sounds good. I’ll have that, too.”
They both handed their menus over. The server looked at Harper. “And for you?”
Harper glanced toward the counter. “What kind of pie do you have?”
“We have apple, coconut custard, and Better Than pie.”
Harper’s brow wrinkled. “Better than?”
The server smiled. “Better than sex, better than any other pie I’ve had, better than anything I can make—you get the picture.”
“Right,” Harper said. “What is it exactly?”
“Chocolate cookie crust filled with chocolate ganache and topped with a layer of salted caramel. We can also warm it up and top it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. It’s kind of like an upside-down sundae.”
Harper gave the server her menu. “Sounds perfect. I’ll have that. With a Diet Coke.”
Frankie knew her expression was giving away her surprise, but she’d never known Harper to eat like that. “Pie à la mode for lunch, huh?”
Harper nodded. “If there was ever a day for comfort food, this is it.”
Frankie couldn’t argue that. “Now that you mention it, maybe I’ll get one, too.” She quickly shook her head at the server, who took the menus and left.
Harper interlaced her fingers and set her hands on the table. “So, Shar, when did you get out?”
Shar seemed less than pleased with the line of questioning, but she should have expected it. “I served almost six years.”
Frankie was horrified. “Just for driving the car?”
Shar nodded. “Buck and his friends had guns. One of the security guards got shot, nothing serious, but injured all the same. That complicated things. A lot.”
“Wow,” Harper said softly, like the reality of it was just hitting her. “How did you survive? I’m genuinely curious. I can’t imagine what prison must be like.”
“It was very hard.” Shar’s gaze took on a faraway look. “But I knew when I got out, I’d see you girls again. And then that didn’t happen. That was worse than being in prison.” She looked at them both. “I was deeply depressed. I almost didn’t survive that. But I kept telling myself that someday I would see you again.”
“And now, here you are.” Frankie smiled.
Harper spoke again. “And this guy, Buck, was our father?”
Shar nodded. “Buck McCandless.”
“Why wasn’t he on our birth certificates?” Frankie asked.
A little smirk crossed Shar’s face. “When Harriet, sorry, Harper, was born, we weren’t quite married yet. And when you came along, Frances, I was mad at him for some reason or another that I don’t remember now. Anyway, I left him off to be spiteful, I guess.” She shrugged. “Things you do at that age.”
“What happened to Buck?” Harper asked.
That surprised Frankie. She’d thought her sister wanted nothing to do with either of their parents.
