Between Sisters - Page 41

“That’s one of my favorite pictures,” Gina said, coming up behind him.

“At the end,” he said softly, “she talked about you guys. The Bluesers. She must have told me a hundred Lake Chelan stories. ”

Gina squeezed his shoulder. “We all miss her. ”

“I know. ”

“Did you find it out there . . . whatever you were looking for?”

He thought about that. “No,” he said at last. “But now that I’m here, I want to be gone again. Everywhere I look, I’ll see her. ”

“Tell me that wasn’t true out there, too. ”

He sighed. His sister was right. It didn’t matter where he was. Diana filled his thoughts, his dreams. Finally, he turned around and looked down at his sister. “What now?”

“You’re home. That counts for something. ”

“I’m lost, Gigi. It’s like I’m stuck in the ice. I can’t move. I don’t know how to start over. ”

She touched his cheek. “Don’t you see? You already have. You’re here. ”

He placed his hand over hers and stared down at her, trying to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind, so he tried to smile instead. “Where’s my beautiful niece? And my brother-in-law?”

“Bonnie’s over at River’s Edge, playing with Ali. ”

Joe frowned, took a step back. “And Rex? He doesn’t work on Sundays. ”

“He left me, Joey. Divorced me. ”

She didn’t say, While you were gone, but she could have. His baby sister had needed him and he hadn’t been there for her. He pulled her into his arms.

She burst into tears. He stroked her hair and whispered that he was here, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

For the first time in three years, it was the truth.

Meghann’s desk was clean for the first time in more than a decade. All her pending cases had been portioned out to the other attorneys. She’d promised Julie that she’d take at least three weeks of vacation, but already she was having second thoughts. What in the hell would she do with all the hours that made up an ordinary day?

Last night and the night before, she’d gone out for dinner and drinks with some lawyer friends. Unfortunately, it had become obvious that they were worried about her. No one mentioned the drama with the gun, and when Meg made a joke about her near-death experience, it fell flat. The two evenings had only served to make her feel more alone.

She thought about calling Harriet, then discarded the idea. She’d studiously avoided her therapist in the past few days, even going so far as to cancel her regular appointment. Their late-night session had been depressing and disturbing; frankly, Meghann was doing a good enough job at depressing herself. She didn’t need to pay a professional to help her.

She retrieved her briefcase and handbag from the bottom desk drawer and headed for the door. She allowed herself a last look at the room that was more of a home to her than her condo and quietly closed the door.

As she walked down the wide marble hallway, she noticed that her colleagues were avoiding her. Success was a virus everyone longed to catch. Not so failure. The watercooler whispers had been rampant in the past weeks. Dontess is losing it . . . cracking up . . . just shows you what happens when you have no life.

The comments were quietly made, of course, in hushed and hurried tones. She was a senior partner, after all, the second name on the door in a business where pecking order was everything. Still, for the first time in her career, they were questioning her, wondering if the Bitch of Belltown had lost her edge. She sensed the same curiosity from her lawyer friends.

At the closed door of Julia’s corner office, she paused and knocked gently.

“Come in. ”

Meghann opened the door and entered the bright, sunlit office. “Hey, Jules. ”

Julie looked up from her paperwork. “Hey, Meg. You want to go out for a drink? Maybe celebrate your first vacation in a decade?”

“How about celebrating my decision to stick around?”

“Sorry, Charlie. I’ve taken a month a year for the last decade. Your only time off generally comes with novocaine. ” She stood up. “You’re tired, Meg, but you’re too stubborn to admit it. What happened last week would mess with anyone’s mind. Let yourself feel it. You need a rest. I recommend at least a month. ”

Tags: Kristin Hannah Fiction
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