Summer Ever After

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” Lucas leans over the center console, adjusting my sister’s scarf. Part of me wants to gag. I mean, we both have intimate knowledge of him and it’s straight up bizarre—no, it’s gross. Let’s leave it gross for me to comprehend.

“Have I ever been wrong before?” Leah croons in the dark of the car. The tequila sunrises course through my veins, leading me toward bad decisions. If I had eaten more I would have gagged right then. “Come on, baby sis.” Leah opens her door and I rush to get out to help her. We walk hand in hand into the shop, which is actually very clean inside.

“What are we doing here, Leah?” Whispering, I ask her as we page through catalogs of the artist named Big Eddie.

“Finally getting that tattoo I always wanted.” Huh, who knew a tattoo was something my straight-laced, overachiever sister had wanted. Big Eddie made us sign all kinds of release forms before sitting us down in his chair one at a time. Leah had convinced me to get one as well and I agreed as long as I got to pick out the design. After some sisterly arguments, she relents and goes along with my idea. I’d just like to point out if you’re not into needles, tattoos freaking hurt.

* * * * *

I wake up in Leah’s bed again. I’m pretty sure there was more alcohol when we returned to her house. Lucas stayed the night as fucked up as that is sneaking into the bedroom with us passed out. Luckily, Leah’s bed is a California king and my sister was in the middle. Sunlight filters through my side of the room and it’s one of the most arresting things, lying in her bed all of us breathing quietly. I rolled over watching my sister sleep, a hand underneath her chin, her scarf no longer covering her head.

Her skin has lost its honey color despite the sunshine. Holding my hand up to hers I see how different we are. Her wrist is slender and the skin is like parchment paper, thin and pale. Both us of were blessed with good genes and on the skinny side, but the bones show in Leah. The cancer obviously taxing her appetite and making her face more sunken in.

Finally it hits me and I realize what Roman was saying as he flung hurtful words in my face yesterday. Leah is gravely ill, and no matter how much I try to push it away, the reality is she has a heck of a fight on her hands. Dad’s anger is more understandable now, but no less hurtful. The answers are left unknown and Leah’s deep breaths continue during my examination of the facts unsaid.

“So, is there anything I can say to make things better, and go back to the way they were?” Lucas whispers over my sister, his arm snaking around her waist as he eyes me up and down. Revulsion chokes the back of my throat.

“You’re disgusting. In my sister’s house and her bed, how could you even go there?” Snarling, I can’t stand the fact he gets a clean bill of health and Leah lays between us, her life hanging in the balance.

“Meet me in the kitchen.” Lucas slides out of the bed, shirtless, his chest perfectly groomed and his muscles just hinted by his leanness.

I follow Lucas into the kitchen where he begins to make coffee I pad quietly so as not to wake Leah up. Before I can respond, he puts his arms around me, letting his hands roam freely until I push back with force. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”

“Oh, come on, Abs. It’s not like we haven’t do

ne this dance before.”

“Yeah, but we’ll never be doing it again. We broke up, remember? And then you poached in my family to keep your job at my dad’s firm because you’re nothing but a god damn, no-talent assclown.” I’m shaking with disgust as he leans in one more time.

“Leah is very sick and I would be happy to console you when the time comes. Remember that.”

“Get out of my sister’s house. Get. The. Fuck. Out.” I grab a spatula from the counter, wishing it was a wicked looking knife, ready to hit him with it. Lucas huffs and grabs his shirt off the chair, throwing it over his head and slipping his shoes on as he grabs the keys to Leah’s car and leaves. Feeling deflated, I slink against the cabinets, sitting on the floor.

“I always knew he was a piece of social-climbing shit.” Looking up, I see Leah weakly stagger into the kitchen without her designer scarf.

“Oh, Leah.” I get up, helping her to a chair.

“No, it’s all right, Abby. I knew when he jumped ship to hop in my bed… sorry.” I cringe and she continues her story. “He was no good for you.”

“I don’t understand.”

Holding my hand, Leah turns them over to look at our new tattoos, pretty little anchors on our wrists with matching pink ribbons of hope. We are sisters in solidarity, despite our past differences and years apart.

“Do you love Roman?” Her question baffles me, considering the last twenty-four hours. “Okay, so you did some stuff and he said some stuff, but at the end of the day, do you still love him?” When Leah breaks it down that simply, I guess it makes sense. We both did stupid things that hurt each other. I could sit here wasting what time I have in this life or I could go chase after my man.

“Yeah, I do. I love my sailor.” Smiling, Leah nods her head, proving she’s much wiser than her years. Maybe cancer does that shit to people, gives them Yoda-like powers, forcing the rest of us to get our priorities straightened out.

“I guess you better get your ass up there then, huh? I want to live long enough for a wedding.” And just like that, my sister sends me on my way back to Gold Beach. Back to Roman Winters and one hell of a fight on my hands.

Chapter Twenty-two

ROMAN

Pulling up to the dock, I jump over the railing to pull the mail boat into her slip and tie her up securely. Bella gives a woof, jumping down behind me, her paws excitedly dancing on the wood. I’m busy taking mail packets from the boat to drop them off at the post office for another batch of mail I’ll bring down the river. Bella keeps barking and the loud sounds grate on my agitated nerves since coming back to Gold Beach. I wanted to find peace coming back here, not find reasons to miss Abby every time I turned around.

Irritated, I try shooing the dog down the dock toward my truck. “Bella, hush. I’m going to drop you off at Maddie’s house for dinner.”

“Hey, do you think I could get ride too?” I stop and turn around, hearing her voice unexpectedly. She looks torn. Her short curls are windblown and a headband holds most of them back. It makes her look about nineteen instead of twenty-seven. My cock does a little jig in my shorts, happy to see her again. There is no use avoiding her. We have done this before and I have no interest in fighting with her.