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Amber and I silently watch her mix the cocktail. She moves efficiently, like she’s done this a thousand times. She has. “Are you still bartending?” I ask.
“I quit to come here.”
“Meaning…” Amber trails off.
“Meaning I need to find a J-O-B while I pursue my music career. Aunt Sally said I could stay as long as I need to.”
“That’s great,” I say. Music has been a dream of Dixie’s for a long time.
She pushes a drink in front of me. “No thanks.” She slides it sideways to Amber. “I’m going to pass, too,” Amber says.
“Suit yourselves.” Dixie lifts the glass in a solo cheers gesture. She guzzles about half of it, closes her eyes in appreciation, and then opens them and takes us in again. “Okay. That helps. So, what’s your deal?”
Amber and I glance at each other. I guess we are going to get things out in the open. “Go ahead,” I say. Five minutes in their company isn’t enough of a foundation for me to spill my deal. I’m here because Aunt Sally offered me an escape. From a past I still often struggle with, a future I can’t pull into any kind of focus, and a dad who firmly believes a law degree is what I need to make me happy.
“Nothing to say, really. I’m on summer break,” Amber replies. “I start my master’s program at UCLA in the fall, but I can’t move into on-campus housing until September.”
“You’re getting your masters?” Dixie asks with surprise and resentment. She couldn’t afford to stay in college. Our dad offered to help, but she refuses to accept anything from him.
“Yes. Speech therapy.”
Dixie doesn’t bother with an additional comment, instead turning her attention to me. “And is perfect princess Kendall still heading to law school to be just like her daddy?” She couldn’t sound any colder or look any more hateful if she tried.
“I’m not perfect.” Far, far from it, but she’s never seen past my childhood. Past the time and affection I’ve received from our father. That none of it was my call doesn’t compute with her, which makes it difficult to be close, even if she wanted to be.
“No? You’re the one who grew up with a pink room and a mom and dad who attended all your plays and debate team competitions and watched you blow out your birthday candles and took you on vacations with them.”
And there it is. “Why do you always have to bring that up?”
Dixie shrugs one shoulder before downing the rest of her drink.
“Seriously. We’re adults now. Don’t you think it’s time to let that stuff go? I can’t change it. You can’t change it. Move on already.” My words repeat themselves in my head. I should take my own advice. I’m trying to. “I’d like us to be friends.”
“Of course you would,” Dixie fires back.
“What does that mean?”
“You hate the idea of me not liking you.”
“So that’s why you don’t?”
“Partly. By the way. Winnie the Pooh? Really? You want to be treated like an adult, you might try dressing like one.” She steps to the fridge and pulls out a carton of orange juice. “Here,” she says to Amber, “drink this. You look like you’re about to pass out, and I can deal with only one of you at a time.”
Amber takes the carton and drinks right out of it. “Thanks.”
My stomach growls, so I jump to my feet. “How about I make us some breakfast?”
“I’m good,” Dixie says at the same time Amber says, “I could eat.”
“Do you like frittatas?” I ask Amber, ignoring Dixie. Aunt Sally’s housekeeper stocked the house with groceries yesterday, and I scoped out the goods last night.
“Sure.”
Before I grab a pan, I discreetly open the drawer with Vaughn’s keys inside. Now that I’m over the shock of seeing my sisters, my mind skips back to him. I wonder what he’s doing right now. He’s not in his car, since the key is right where I left it, which means we have unfinished business.
Dixie’s phone rings as she takes a seat on the stool I vacated, the interruption saving me from a quick mental pic of my hot next-door neighbor. She notes the caller ID and picks it up. “Hello, Aunt Sally,” she says cheerfully.
I stop what I’m doing and give my full attention to my sisters.
