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“Next thing you know you’re going to sell air.”
“Pear Blossom Air,” Marianne said, grinning. “I really could.”
She could. Everything about Marianne appeared effortless. Easy. Like air. Flawless skin and just a hint of makeup. Loose-fitting clothing and hair that just seemed to fall in waves as if by accident, when Dahlia suspected her sister did nothing by accident at all.
She wore six hundred dollars ofshrug, this old thingmost of the time, but was too filled with grace to saythis old thingout loud. She said it with a smile and a wave of her hand when faced with compliments.
“Do it,” Dahlia said.
“If you promise to give me a feature in the paper.”
“Sure. Front page. Local Con Artist Sells Air to Unsuspecting Public.”
“I demand a retraction,” Marianne said, eyes narrowed.
“Okay, but while it’s the three of us,” Ruby said, her eyes going very bright and alert, “tell me what’s going on with Lydia.”
“Uh...” Marianne looked at Dahlia.
Dahlia frowned. “She’s Lydia.”
“Exactly,” said Marianne.
“Meaning?” Ruby asked.
“She’s working to avoid having a feeling, but she’s obviously devastated,” Marianne said.
Ruby’s eyes were now large and glassy with unshed tears. “I feel so guilty I didn’t come right back home.”
“Hey,” Dahlia said. “Like I told you at the time, we were all here with her.”
“Jackson and I help with the kids,” Marianne said. “So do Mom and Dad. Chase helps with the farm.”
“But I could have...comforted her.”
Dahlia sighed. “Honey, her husband died. You can’t just...smile and make it better.”
Ruby frowned. “I’m not saying that I can, but I want to be there for her.”
“You know how she is,” Marianne said. “She doesn’t like to share her feelings, and she’s really not sharing them now.”
And Dahlia could see that Ruby was taking none of this on board. Ruby was determined to fix their sister’s very real, deep grief, as if she could do it with her mere presence. To Ruby’s credit, she didn’t like people to be unhappy.
That was also a deeply annoying thing about Ruby.
They all loved Mac like a brother. Lydia had been with Mac since she was thirteen. He was enmeshed in who they were, and it was just... Hard.
His ALS diagnosis had been devastating. His decline gutting. His death still sudden and unexpected in a terrible way.
They’d known it was coming, but when it had, it had still felt like...it had to be a dream. A joke. It hadn’t felt real.
And as to how Lydia was coping? It was impossible to say.
Dahlia had never been the closest to Lydia growing up, but the older she got she thought it was maybe because they were too much the same. Marianne and Ruby showed their emotions easily. Screaming and throwing their hands around and demanding people smell lotion. Waving at people from across the street with broad gestures and loud greetings.
Dahlia and Lydia were just much more reserved. And Dahlia knew that her fashion sense—with her blunt bangs and extreme bob, her hair dyed black and her short skirts and thigh-high socks—horrified Lydia. And that Lydia herself would never admit that they were alike at all. But they both felt things deeply. And while Dahlia was a staunch advocate of the truth...
That didn’t often extend to speaking of the deeper feelings inside her.
