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Dena wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like kale.”
“It’s good for you. It’s dark and leafy, so it has to be healthy.”
“It tastes yucky.”
“That’s mature.”
Dena laughed and joined her at the island. Belle returned to her bed in the kitchen, but kept her eye out for anything that fell.
“I’m excited to start the charity project on Monday,” Reggie said. “I’ve been practicing and I’m getting pretty good.”
Her sister eyed her humorously. “How much of your enthusiasm is about Toby?”
Reggie had done her best to forget about him. “None.”
Dena raised her eyebrows. “Really?” She drew the word out to several syllables.
“Yes, really. Why would I be interested in him? I don’t know anything about him. I knew him when he was, what? Seventeen? Eighteen? He’s a totally different person now.”
“He’s kind of sexy.”
“Then you date him.”
“He’s your boyfriend.”
“He’s not! What part of ‘it’s been years’ is unclear to you?”
“So you have no interest in him?”
Reggie thought about her brief yet embarrassing encounter with Toby. They hadn’t exchanged more than a handful of words, and most of those had been her babbling.
“He’s probably dating someone.”
“Not that I’ve heard,” Dena told her. “Regardless, I’ll change the subject because I’m just that great a person.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. How’s it going with the wedding?”
Reggie told her about the invitations and the replanting of the Christmas cactus.
Dena winced. “I can help. I can work on some when I get home from school.”
“Between lesson planning, running the B and B, barfing and being exhausted? I don’t think so. You focus on yourself and the baby.”
“Winona runs the B and B. I’m just backup. The barfing is a little better. I’ve been using some pressure techniques, and they seem to help.”
“How’d you learn about those? I’ve never heard of them.”
Dena looked at her salad. “One of the guests at the B and B.”
Reggie studied her sister. There was something in her posture. Something that made Reggie ask, “What aren’t you telling me?”
Dena’s eyes widened. “Nothing. Why?”
“You’re hiding something.”
“You’re imagining things. You just listed everything going on in my life. When would I have time to hide anything?”
