Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [88]
Meghann released a fluttery breath. She looked nervous. “You'd trust me?”
“Of course.”
Meg sat back. A tremulous smile curved her lips. “Okay.”
Claire grinned. “No taking her to the shooting range or teaching her to bungee-jump.”
“So, skydiving lessons are out. Can I take her for a pony ride?”
They were still laughing when Dad pushed through the door and came into the living room. He was already dressed for the rehearsal in black pants—freshly ironed—and a pale blue denim shirt with a River's Edge logo on the pocket. His brown hair had been recently cut and was combed back from his forehead. If Claire didn't know better, she'd think he'd moussed it.
“Hey, Dad. You look great.”
“Thanks.” He flashed an uncomfortable smile at her sister. “Meg.”
“Sam,” Meg said stiffly as she got to her feet. “I need to get dressed. Good-bye.”
When Meghann had disappeared upstairs, Sam sighed and shook his head. “I feel about two feet tall when she looks at me.”
“I know the feeling. What's going on, Dad? I need to get dressed.” She looked past him. “I thought you were playing checkers with Ali?”
“Bobby is trying to French-braid her hair.”
Claire laughed at that and started for the stairs. “I'll redo it before we leave. You want to pick me up in forty-five minutes?”
“I need to talk to you first. Just for a minute. I didn't know if I should talk to Bobby at the same time—”
She smiled. “I hope this isn't my long-overdue sex talk.”
“I talked to you about sex.”
“Don't do it is not a talk.”
“Wiseass.” He nodded toward the couch. “Sit down. And don't give me any lip. This'll just take a second.”
He sat down on the coffee table. “Margaritas, already?” he said, glancing at Meg's glass.
“I was a little nervous.”
“It makes me think of when I married your mama.”
“Let me guess, she was power-drinking all day.”
“We both were.” He smiled, but it was a little sad, that smile, and it excluded Claire somehow.
After a short pause, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small black box, and opened it.
Inside was a marquise-cut yellow diamond set on a wide platinum band. “It's your grandma Myrtle's diamond. She wanted you to have it.”
The ring sparked a dozen sweet memories. Whenever her grandmother had dealt a hand of cards, this diamond had splashed tiny colored reflections on the walls.
Dad reached out, took her hand. “I couldn't let my baby get married with a tinfoil ring.”
She tried it on. The ring fit as if it had been made for her. She leaned over and pulled him into her arms. “Thanks, Dad.”
He smelled of woodsmoke and bay rum aftershave, as he had for the whole of her life, and in that moment, as she held him with her face pressed against his cheek, she remembered a dozen times from her girlhood. Nights they'd gone bowling and had dinner at Zeke's Drive-In . . . the way the porch light flickered ten seconds after she and her date pulled into the driveway . . . the stories he used to tell her at bedtime when she felt scared and alone and missed her big sister.
After tomorrow, she would be a married woman. Another man would be the center of her life, another arm would keep her steady. She would be Bobby's wife from now on; not Sam Cavenaugh's little girl.
When Dad drew back, there were tears in his eyes, and she knew he'd been thinking the same thing.
“Always,” she whispered.
He nodded in understanding. “Always.”
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
MEGHANN WISHED TO GOD SHE'D NEVER AGREED TO LET Gina host and plan the rehearsal dinner. Every moment was pure hell.
Are you here by yourself?
Where's your husband?
You don't have children? Well. That's lucky, sometimes I wish I could give mine away. This one was followed by a clearly uncomfortable laugh.
No husband, huh? It must be great to be so independent. This one was always followed by a frown.
Meghann knew that Claire's friends were trying to make conversation with her; they just didn't know what to say. How could they? This was a group of women who talked endlessly about their families. Summer camp start-times were a big topic of conversation; also resorts