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She didn’t like feeling vulnerable, but she felt it now as she looked at her sister.
“Wow, you look—” she swallowed “—you look gorgeous. The dress is gorgeous.”
“I love it, too.” Rosie did a twirl, ivory silk catching the light, her hair sliding over her shoulders in shiny waves.
Catherine narrowed her eyes. “When I see you with your hair loose like that it makes me wonder if you should wear it that way. It’s more you than a structured updo, isn’t it? What do you think, Katie?”
“She prefers to wear it down.” She thought of all the times she’d done her sister’s hair before school. Braids. Ponytails. She’d learned them all.
Catherine twisted a strand of Rosie’s hair around her fingers, visualizing the options. “We’re keeping the flowers simple. Locally foraged foliage, white orchids. Maybe it would work with flowers in your hair.”
“I like the sound of that. I forgot to tell you, Katie.” Rosie turned to her sister. “We’re going to have a hot chocolate bar, for guests who need to warm up.”
She had to pull herself together.
“That’s where you’ll find me. There, or next to the champagne. Catherine, would you take a photo of both of us so that I can send it to our mother?”
Catherine took the photo and Katie stood still as the woman made a final adjustment to the hem of her dress.
Finally they were done, and she and Rosie picked their way through fresh snow to the car while Catherine lingered to discuss final details. Rosie slipped her arm through Katie’s.
“Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
Rosie gave a growl of frustration and unlocked the car. “There are times when I could strangle you.”
Katie stared at her. “What?”
Rosie climbed into the car and Katie followed.
The car provided sanctuary from the cold, but not from her sister.
Rosie pulled off her gloves and blew on her hands. “It hurts my feelings, Katie. I tell you pretty much everything, and it hurts me that you don’t feel able to confide in me. Don’t,” she said quickly as Katie opened her mouth, “don’t tell me there’s nothing to talk about or I really will have to strangle you. The truth is you don’t see me as an equal, do you?”
Katie was shocked into silence. Rosie hated confrontation. She’d do virtually anything to avoid it.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“You don’t treat me like a sister or a friend, you mother me. You’ve always mothered me.”
Be careful. Support her head. Don’t drop her.
“I’m protective, that’s true.”
“I feel protective of you, too, but there’s a big difference between being protective and being motherly. It’s natural to hide things from our parents, everyone does that, it’s part of growing up and obviously we don’t want to freak them out with tales of real life, but it’s not natural to hide from a sister. We should be sharing things, but you don’t let me in. Why not? Don’t you trust me?”
Katie had never had to answer to her sister before. “Of course I trust you.”
“Really? Because the basis of almost all our conversations is you checking up on me—am I using my inhaler, have I been in hospital, am I sure I want to marry this man. When do you ever lean on me?”
“I—” She swallowed. “I don’t really lean on anyone.”
“Exactly. And why not? We’re family, Katie. I’m not some random stranger you can’t trust.”
“We talk all the time.”
Rosie shrugged. “Whenever we talk, it’s mostly you sorting out my problems and most of the time I don’t even want you to sort them out. I don’t need you to interfere.”
