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“Sure. Dry your hair.”
It had never bothered her before that she and Hannah weren’t particularly close, but suddenly it bothered her a lot.
What did she have to do to get her sister to talk to her?
21
Suzanne
Never before had she seen her family trying so hard to be on their best behavior.
Suzanne sat at the kitchen table, feeling weaker than she was willing to admit. The doctor seemed to think she was past being infectious, but she knew she had a way to go before she was back to her normal self. She should probably have stayed in bed, but there were so few occasions when the whole family was together that she wanted to make the most of it. And anyway, they were the ones doing all the work, trying to coordinate their movements like a synchronized swimming team who had never met before and couldn’t find their rhythm. She found it endearing that they seemed to think she wouldn’t notice how hard they were trying and wondered how long it would be before one of them burst a blood vessel.
For once, no one was sniping. There was no tension in the atmosphere.
At least, not much.
Posy peered into the pan as Hannah worked. “You’re using olive oil in the mash, not butter? Why?”
“I like olive oil.”
“But you don’t even eat carbs.” Posy opened her mouth and closed it again. “Lovely. Delicious. Great choice. If you wanted to—”
“I don’t.”
They moved around the kitchen awkwardly, clattering plates and pans, laying the table, adding ice to jugs of water and occasionally bumping into each other.
If Suzanne hadn’t had such a headache, she would have laughed.
She’d always known how different they were. Their personalities hadn’t changed much from when they were children. There was Hannah, the organized one; Beth, dreaming away as she whipped the cream; and Posy, who bounced through life as if she was on a trampoline.
Why had she ever thought she could control their relationship with each other? The best she could ever have hoped for was to provide the opportunity for them to bond and she’d done that.
Beth opened the fridge. “Posy, did you use the cream?”
“I added some to the soup.”
“That was my cream. For my dessert. I’m about to whip it.”
“You’ll have to whip a little less.” Posy added fresh parsley to the soup and Beth drew a deep breath.
Suzanne waited for the explosion, but instead Beth smiled.
“The cream will be perfect in the soup.”
Suzanne caught Stewart’s eye and he shrugged, indicating that whatever was going on he had nothing to do with it.
He stood up and fetched her a glass of water. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be in bed? We could bring your food up on a tray.”
“I’m tired of being in bed. I’m fine right here.”
She could tell he wanted to argue, but he also knew how much it meant to her having everyone home.
He settled for sitting next to her. “If you’re going to faint, let me know and I’ll catch you.”
“Have I ever fainted?”
He helped himself to bread. “The first time you saw me, you came close. But no one is blaming you for that.”
