Page 12

“Hey, baby girl.” Rising from his chair, my father greets Nora with a kiss on the top of her dark hair and then moves to refill his coffee mug.

My mother sets the plate of scrambled eggs right in front of me, and my stomach twists tighter.

“Good morning, Dad. Morning everyone.” I find Nora’s cheery disposition annoying most days, but today, I’m too nauseous to care.

Seriously, what is going on with my stomach?

Did I eat something last night that didn’t agree with me?

“You look well-rested,” Blair quips as she takes a seat next to Hudson.

Nora beams proudly. “I am. I journaled, stretched, took a walk, and had my coffee already before coming over.”

Blair practically snorts. “You just described what someone in their fifties does in the morning, Nora. Not a girl who’s only twenty-six.”

“Leave your sister alone,” Mom says as she settles into the chair next to Dad’s. He grabs the coffee cup she left on the counter and places it in front of her as he returns to his seat.

I used to think small acts like that were normal for couples until about my third serious relationship. It quickly became evident that most men don’t pay attention to details, but my father does. He anticipates my mother’s moves before she makes them, knows her quirks and helps her remember things like her keys or glasses just by placing them on the counter next to her purse, fills her coffee for her in the morning before she gets out of the shower, and turns her bedcovers down at night.

The two of them are sickeningly still in love, even after thirty-seven years of marriage.

And they love reminding all of us kids of that fact in the most disgusting of ways.

“What? She sells risqué love stories and murder mysteries for a living, but literally lives the most boring life ever,” Blair retorts as she takes a bite of her Danish. “You should be waking up late after having mind-blowing sex with the latest man you convinced to ‘spread your pages,’” she jokes, mocking the name of Nora’s bookstore. “Lord knows I’d be using that name to my advantage if the shoe were on the other foot.”

Four years ago, our baby sister finally took the leap and opened a bookstore in town, partnering with the college to sell textbooks and other required reading for courses, but her specialty is romance. And since my mother teaches at the college, particularly women’s literature, it’s sparked quite the craze in our little town.

Nora’s love of reading always helps sell the books too, although it seems like she’s currently trying to sell Blair hope for her love life.

“You know you’re always welcome to come work at my store if you want to,” Nora replies, lifting her juice to her mouth.

Blair sighs. “Too boring for me. Fire is much more fun, except for when men learn what I do for a living and can’t handle that I might be more of a badass than them.” She rolls her eyes and picks up a piece of bacon, ripping off a chunk with her teeth.

“There are men out there who won’t be intimidated by you, Blair. You just haven’t found the right one yet,” Nora replies.

My mom peers up at Nora. “I think it’s wonderful that you’re taking care of yourself, dear, especially at a young age. Good habits are built early.”

“Thank you, Mom.” Nora’s smile is quick before she takes a seat and fills a bowl with fresh fruit.

“Of course. But remember, having an active sex life is also a healthy thing.”

Hudson groans. “Jesus Christ. Can we have just one morning where sex isn’t brought up at breakfast?”

My mother glares at him from across the table. “Be glad that the attention is on Nora right now, honey, and not you.”

Blair cackles as I stifle my laugh with my hand.

Nora places her hand on my mother’s forearm. “You have my permission to change the topic to him.”

Hudson glares over at Nora. “No need. My sex life is fine.”

“Really? Because I feel like you’ve gotten extra grumpy lately, which means you’re due for a decent orgasm,” my mother fires back at him.

Hudson’s chair screeches across the floor as he pushes away from the table. “That’s it. I’m out of here.”

My mother’s face transforms with a saccharine smile. “Kiss my grandson for me, dear. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles before heading for the front door and darting out of the house as quickly as he can.