Poppy picked up The Slugger and Teagan grabbed it right as the kid pulled up on the bat, ready to swing and take someone out at the knees. Unfazed, Poppy ran into the living room, dropping her last remaining article of clothing—her Wonder Twins Underoos. Lily followed her sister’s lead.
“Um, is that normal?” Harley asked.
“Just pretend it isn’t happening and they’ll put their clothes back on.”
“Will she sit on the couch or chair like that?”
“No, we have a strict ‘no clothes, no couch’ policy.”
“As we all do.”
“When you have twins, we’ll revisit this conversation. Until then I’d prefer it if you didn’t pass judgment on matters of which you know nothing.”
“Poppy’s a little hellion.”
Harley meant it as a compliment, but she could see the mama bear flare up in Teagan’s eyes. “Really?” Teagan snapped. “Is it like looking in a mirror?”
“Whoa. Why are you coming at me?”
“Look at her. She’s naked, screaming like a banshee, and wearing blue lipstick. Blue lipstick!”
“You used to have pink hair.”
“That was a rebellious phase, and it was only pink for a week before I went back to blond.”
“All I’m saying is that freaking out over lipstick sounds funny coming from a woman in house slippers.”
Teagan did that fast-blink thing she always did when trying not to cry, and Harley felt like a jerk. “I just drove twenty-one hours over two days. By myself. With Bigfoot’s dumber brother. And twin toddlers. Well, technically the toddler stage ends at three and they’re four, but just barely. When it comes to number one, Lily is a sure thing. If the toilet is there, we’re good. But Poppy, she’s hit or miss, which made the trip super fun. It also causes Mrs. Lancaster serious concern.”
“Who’s Mrs. Lancaster?”
“Their preschool teacher in Seattle,” Teagan said as if it was obvious. “But it’s not just her. Frank’s mom has serious concerns as well. One being that she thinks I’m the reason the girls don’t want to spend time at her house. It has nothing to do with the creepy dolls she collects. I swear some of them are possessed. Oh, and Frank lost the house, which was the last straw. So we’re officially D. I. V. O. R. C. E. D.” She held up her bare finger as proof. “Which is why I drove down the western seaboard in a car I hate that Frank said I’d love. I hate it. I really do. It looks like a tampon, Har. A giant white tampon on wheels. And these past eleven hours have confirmed a lot of things I hate: like kale, exercise, kids’ books that make sounds, dogs of all shapes and sizes, and shoes that pinch my toes.” She took in a shuddery breath. “So forgive me if big girl shoes don’t rank high on my Mommy Do List.”
That was a lot to take in, but Harley had stopped listening after the divorce mic drop. “You and Frank are—”
“Over? Yup.” Her sister popped that P with all the fires of hell.
“When?” she asked.
“Three months now.”
And wow, that hurt. Teagan had been in the throes of a failing marriage when they’d last spoken, and she hadn’t said a word. Divorce was a huge life event. Then again, when it came to huge life events, they were more a “miss” than “hit” kind of sisters. The last they’d spoken had been Christmas, when Teagan called to say thanks for the presents Harley had sent the girls. Books that made noise.
That had been it. Thanks, a few pleasantries, and “See ya.” No, “B dubs, Frank and I are toast” or “Things are really hard right now, and I could use my sister.” Not even a quick call to say that the girls were now diaper free.
“What happened?”
Harley loved her brother-in-law. He was fun and spontaneous and a lot like Harley. Despite all of his screwups, Teagan had loved and supported him, never losing hope that he’d eventually turn things around. Her sister’s unwavering loyalty had always made Harley believe that Teagan would never give up on her either and that, one day, her sister would forgive Harley for her part in Frank’s relapse.
But if Teagan had turned her back on the husband she’d loved so steadfastly, what hope did a hell-raising sister have?
“Divorce?” she asked again, just to clarify that this wasn’t some Frank-inspired joke where he’d pop out of the closet and scream, “Surprise!” Because that was a total Frank thing to do.
“Yes. And I don’t want to talk about it. Not in front of the G. I. R. L. S.”
“We’re da G. I. R. L. S.,” Poppy screamed from the front room, and Harley thought she heard Teagan whimper.
“Okay, you have a point.”
