Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [74]
Remember when Claire fell off the high dive at Island Lake Camp—
Or when she hid Mrs. Testern's favorite ruler—
When she called Poison Control because she caught Ali eating the diaper-pail deodorant—
The junior and senior high school years, the girls-just-want-to-have-fun years, the Alison years. They were all a mystery to Meghann. She had stories to tell, of course, stories about a girl who once cut all of her hair so she could look like Buffy on Family Affair, who cried every night that Mama forgot to come home, and who slept curled in her big sister's arms on a cot that was too small.
“Claire's big sister,” said a brown-haired woman in faded jeans and an Old Navy T-shirt. Her wedding ring sported a diamond the size of a pencil eraser. She plopped down beside Meghann. “I'm Karen, by the way. We met several years ago. Your dress is beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“I hear you want Claire to sign a prenuptial.”
“That was it for small talk, huh?”
“We watch out for one another.”
In truth, Meghann was glad for that. God knew she'd failed Claire in the watching-over department. That was why she was sitting here, overdressed and separate, pretending to love the cookies. “That's nice. She's lucky to have you as friends.”
“We're all lucky. She won't sign anything, you know. I gave her the same advice.”
“You did?”
She fluttered the fingers of her left hand. “Divorce wars survivor. That guy over there—the one chewing like a squirrel—that's Harold.”
“Maybe you could talk to Claire. It's not smart for her to go into this thing unprotected.”
“This thing is marriage, and it's all about faith. Your sister is one of the believers in this world. Don't take that away from her.”
“In law school faith is surgically removed.”
“My guess is that yours was lost long before that. Don't look so shocked. I'm not a psychic or anything. We tell each other everything. You guys had a rough time of it growing up.”
Meghann shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't used to people knowing so much about her. Not friends, and certainly not strangers. Her childhood was something she'd never shared with a girlfriend, not even Elizabeth. She remembered how people had looked at her when she was child, as if she were white trash; she hadn't wanted that judgment to follow her into adulthood.
Karen seemed to be waiting for a response. The moment lengthened between them. Meg's heartbeat accelerated. She didn't want this conversation to continue. These Bluesers were too damn blunt.
“Okay, everyone, it's time for the games!” Gina yelled suddenly, jumping to her feet.
Meghann let out her breath in a relieved sigh.
“Gina loves games,” Karen said. “I just hope no one has to humiliate themselves. It was nice to see you again. I better run. Harold just started hyperventilating.” And she was gone, back to her husband in a blink.
“Outside,” Gina said, clapping her hands again and ushering everyone outside, where a row of powdered-sugar doughnuts hung at intervals along a sagging clothesline. “Everyone pick a doughnut and stand in front of it.
The guests surged forward, lining up.
Meghann hung back in the doorway.
“Come on, Meg,” Gina called out. “There's a place for you, too.”
Everyone turned to look at her.
She hurried across the porch and out into the yard. The sweet smell of honeysuckle and roses filled the night air. Somewhere nearby there must be a pond, because frogs were croaking en masse. It gave the evening an odd, surreal edge—or maybe that came from the swinging doughnuts.
“When I start the stopwatch, everyone starts licking the sugar off the doughnuts. This will tell us who is the best kisser.”
A man laughed. Meghann thought it was Charlotte's husband. “If you want to know who has the best tongue, we should be licking—”
“Don't you dare finish that sentence,