Between Sisters

“Thank you,” she said.

He took a drink straight from the bottle, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sure. ” He didn’t move away, just stood there, staring down at her. He was unsteady on his feet.

“You’re drunk,” she said, finally getting it.

“Iss June twenty-second. ” He smiled, or tried to, but the sadness in his eyes made it impossible.

“Do you have something against the twenty-second?”

His gaze darted to the end table beside her. To the photographs clustered there. He looked quickly back at her. “You were here the other day. You didn’t come in. ”

So he’d seen her, standing on the street that afternoon, looking at his house. She couldn’t think of how to answer, so she drank instead.

He sat down beside her.

She twisted around to face him, realizing an instant too late how close they were. She could feel his breath against her lips. She tried to edge away.

He reached out, grabbed her wrist. “Don’t go. ”

“I wasn’t leaving. But maybe I should. ”

He let go of her wrist suddenly. “Maybe you should. ” He took another swig from the bottle.

“Who is she, Joe?” Her voice was soft, but in the quiet room, it seemed too loud, too intimate. She flinched, wishing she hadn’t asked, surprised that she cared.

“My wife. Diana. ”

“You’re married?”

“Not anymore. She . . . left me. ”

“On June twenty-second. ”

“How’jou know?”

“I know about divorces. The anniversaries can be hell. ” Meghann stared into his sad, sad eyes and tried not to feel anything. It was better that way, safer. But sitting here beside him, close enough to be taken into his arms, she felt . . . needy. Maybe even desperate. Suddenly she wanted something from Joe; something more than sex.

“Maybe I should go. You seem to want to be alone. ”

“I’ve been alone. ”

She heard the ache of loneliness in his voice and it drew her in. “Me, too. ”

He reached out, touched her face. “I can’t offer you anything, Meghann. ”

The way he said her name, all sad and drawn out and slow, sent a shiver along her spine. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t want anything from him except a night in his bed, but amazingly, she couldn’t form the words. “It’s okay. ”

“You should want more. ”

“So should you. ”

She felt fragile suddenly, as if this man she didn’t know at all had the power to break her heart. “We’re talking too much, Joe. Kiss me. ”

In the fireplace, a log fell to the hearth floor with a thud. Sparks flooded into the room.

With a groan, he pulled her into his arms.

TWENTY