Somewhere around 2:00 a.m. she’d gotten up to drink more water and had promptly thrown up in the kitchen sink. That had been attractive. She’d stayed up, sipping water until nearly four when it had seemed safe for her to go back to bed. She’d slept until six thirty.
One shower later, she was feeling almost human. The pounding in her head was pretty awful but wouldn’t be fixed until she could down an aspirin—something that couldn’t happen until she ate. The thought of food was enough to make her want to kill herself, only she didn’t think she had a choice.
She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, then ran a comb through her wet hair. Maybe dry toast, she thought. Or a banana. She thought she’d read somewhere that a banana was good for a hangover because of the potassium.
She stumbled to the kitchen and put a slice of bread in the toaster. Her father, a great, great man, who had warned her she was going to feel awful this morning, had started coffee before he’d left for the diner. She poured herself a cup and did her best not to notice how her hands shook.
The first sip had her system relaxing just a bit. When the toast popped, she grabbed it and took a bite. Her stomach was silent.
Kelly offered a prayer of thanksgiving before finishing the slice and her coffee. Only then did she down an aspirin and start to believe that yes, she was going to be all right. Except for what she might or might not have said to Griffith.
She also had to deal with her truck. She’d left it at the craft mall. When her dad got home, she would ask him to drive her out there. Yet one more check mark in the embarrassing column.
“Good morning.”
The happy, loud voice made her wince. She turned and saw Olivia walking into the kitchen. Her sister also wore jeans, but aside from the basic concept, they were nothing like Kelly’s. The denim was darker and the fit tighter. Olivia’s jeans were long, coming to the heel of her stylish boots. A purple sweater with a deep V exposed just enough cleavage to remind Kelly of her shortcomings.
Olivia’s hair was still all wavy, beachy, and she had on the kind of makeup that emphasized her perfect features. It was annoying and intimidating and made Kelly want to throw coffee in her pretty face.
“Morning,” she mumbled instead, when what she really wanted to ask was “Is everything you own either pretty or beautiful?” There was no point as she already knew the answer. Not that cute, stylish clothes were practical. Kelly was a farmer, after all. She would spend her day grubbing and hauling, but jeez, it was so depressing. And unfair.
Still, she wouldn’t say any of that to her sister. To be honest, none of what Kelly was thinking was Olivia’s fault, which made her feel guilty, so she said, “Are you getting settled?”
“I am. It’s strange being back.”
“I would imagine. Did you have fun last night with your friends?”
Olivia hesitated. “It was great. How was the band?”
“Awful. They usually are. They had their own vocalist. She was okay, but my friend Helen is way better.”
Olivia poured herself a cup of coffee. “Are you going to the farm today?”
“I’d planned to, why?”
Olivia studied her for a second. “I thought maybe we could spend some time together. After all, we’re sisters and we barely know each other.”
Guilt flooded Kelly. Guilt because she’d been the one to suggest sending her sister away. Guilt because she’d never wanted to be friends with the person she saw as their mother incarnate.
“Some of the reason is that as I grew up, you were always mad at me,” Olivia went on. “I get it. I was a pain in the butt and you thought I was too much like Mom.”
Kelly felt her mouth fall open. She carefully closed it. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Say it! Tell her! The voice in her head was so loud and spoke in time with the pounding of her headache. This was the moment, she thought, to come clean and say that she had been the reason Olivia had been sent away. Only the words got stuck and wouldn’t move.
“We’ve always been different,” Olivia said.
“I know. I take after Dad and you...” Kelly sipped her coffee.
“I don’t take after Mom that much.” Olivia glanced away.
There was something about the way she said it—as if she knew one way or the other.
“Do you ever see her?” Kelly asked.
Olivia sipped her coffee. “Ah, sometimes. Not all that often.”
Wow—there was information. Once Marilee had taken off, Kelly had never wanted to spend time with her mother again. Of course she and her mom had a very different relationship than Olivia and Marilee.
“You and I were always on opposite sides,” Kelly said. “Me with Dad and you with Mom.”
“Soldiers in their war.”
“Is that how you saw it?” Kelly asked. “I never did. Dad didn’t fight.”
“He should have. Things would have been better if he’d stood up to her.”
“I know. I think he was trying to get along.” Not that she wanted to say anything bad about Jeff. He’d been a good dad—always there for her.
“I was asking about the farm before because I thought we could hang out together. After work.”
“That would be great,” Kelly said automatically, then wondered what on earth they were supposed to do together. She doubted she and Olivia had anything in common and it wasn’t as if there was a ton to do in Tulpen Crossing. Part of the reason they had trouble attracting tourists in the off-season.
“I have a tourism board meeting tonight,” she said. “We’re trying to update the local craft mall and figure out ways to get more tourists to come to town. Maybe you could help us brainstorm.”
She expected Olivia to roll her eyes at the suggestion. Instead her sister nodded eagerly.
“I’d like that a lot. I worked with a couple of charities in Phoenix. Maybe some of the things we did there will work here.”
Kelly didn’t know which was more surprising—her sister’s enthusiasm or the fact that she’d volunteered for something. Which wasn’t fair, she reminded herself. Olivia wasn’t a teenager anymore. She’d grown up, graduated college and had created a life of her own away from her family. Of course she was different.
“That would be really helpful.” Kelly smiled.
“I hope so. I’ll see you after work.”
“You will.”
Kelly poured coffee into a to-go mug and grabbed her bag. She opened the back door just in time to remember that she had no transportation, only to find her truck sitting where it was supposed to be. The keys were in the ignition and a bottle of aspirin was on the front seat with a note that said, Hope it’s not too bad this morning. G
Griffith had somehow arranged to return her truck to her. Talk about above and beyond, she thought happily. She might not be sure about what to do about her sister, but her decision about Griffith’s suggestion was getting more and more clear.
She slid into the driver’s seat, then reached for her purse when she heard her phone chirp. The text message was from Helen.
Your dad just left. Olivia’s back? Are you still in shock?
Yes. Shocked. Stunned and seriously hungover.