Between Sisters

At first, she thought the sound she heard was crickets, gearing up for a nightly concert. Then she heard the sweet sound of strings being strummed.

Cabin four had a pretty little porch that faced the river. They had taken the cabin off the market this summer because of rain damage to the roof; the vacancy had given Bobby a place to stay until the wedding. Destiny, Dad had said when he gave Claire the key.

Now, destiny sat on the edge of the porch, cross-legged, his body veiled in shadows, a guitar across his lap. He stared out at the river, plucking a slow and uncertain tune.

Claire eased into the darkness beneath a giant Douglas fir. Hidden, she watched him. The music sent shivers skimming along her flesh.

Almost too quietly to hear, he started to sing. “I’ve been walkin’ all my life . . . on a road goin’ nowhere. Then I turned a corner, darlin’ . . . and there you were. ”

Claire’s throat tightened with an emotion so sweet and powerful she felt the start of tears. She stepped out of the shadows.

Bobby looked up and saw her. A smile crinkled the suntanned planes of his face.

She stepped toward him, her bare feet making a soft, thumping beat on the hard, dried grass.

He began to sing again, his gaze on her face. “For the first time in my life . . . I believe in God almighty . . . in the Lord my grandpa promised me . . . ’cause, honey, I see Heaven in your eyes. ” He strummed a few more chords, then thumped his hand on the guitar and grinned. “That’s all I’ve written so far. I know it needs work. ” He put down the guitar and moved toward her.

With every footstep, she felt her breathing shorten until, by the time he was standing in front of her, she couldn’t seem to draw a full breath. It was almost embarrassing to feel this much.

He took her left hand in his, looked down at the strip of foil that was supposed to be a diamond ring. When he looked at her again, he was no longer smiling.

“Pathetic,” he whispered, and her heart ached for the shame she saw in his dark eyes. “Not every woman would accept a ring like this. ”

“I love you, Bobby. That’s all that matters. I know it’s crazy, impossible even, but I love you. ” The words freed something inside her. She could breathe again.

“I’m no prize, Claire. You know that. I’ve made mistakes in my life. Three of ’em, to be exact. ”

Claire could practically hear Meg’s voice in the breeze. But the sound meant nothing when she saw how Bobby looked at her. No one had ever looked at her like that before, as if she were the most precious woman on earth. “I’m a single mother who never got married. I know about mistakes, Bobby. ”

“I’ve never felt this way before,” he said softly, a catch in his voice. “Honest to God. ”

“What way?”

“As if my heart doesn’t belong to me anymore, as if it can’t beat without you. You’re inside me, Claire, holding me up. You make me want to be more than I am. ”

“I want us to grow old together,” she whispered the words. It was her deepest dream, her most treasured hope. All her life, she’d imagined herself alone in old age, one of those white-haired women who sat on the porch, waiting for the phone to ring or a car to drive up. Now, finally, she allowed herself to imagine a better future, one filled with love and laughter and family.

“I want to hear our kids fight about who’s touching who in the smelly backseat of a minivan. ”

Claire laughed. It felt so good to dream with someone.

He pulled her into his arms, danced with her to the music of the river and the crickets.

Finally, Claire said, “My sister, Meghann, is coming up to meet you tomorrow. ”

He drew back. Taking her hand, he led her to his porch. They sat down in the creaky oak swing and rocked gently. “I thought you said she’d boycott the wedding. ”

“Wishful thinking. ” She looked up at him. “She was predictably underwhelmed by our decision to get married. ”

“This is the sister Gina called Cruella De Vil?”

“Jaws is really the preferred nickname. ”

“Does her opinion matter?”

“It shouldn’t. ”

“But it does. ”