AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Jaime
It’s a Summer sister tradition that on the first Saturday of each month, the six of us get together. We take turns picking the location or activity, anything from margaritas and a movie to wine and painting classes at the small gallery uptown. One thing, though, is as certain as the sun rising over the Chesapeake Bay every morning; there will be alcohol involved.
Always.
Tonight, it’s putt putt golf at The Beaver, a local hangout offering a fun, casual atmosphere and a dozen different beers on tap. It’s also the home of Harry, the six-foot tall wooden beaver statue that takes up residence right in the middle of the beer garden. You never know what attire that large hunk of hand carved wood will adorn. It can be anything from a t-shirt supporting the local cancer charity to a coconut bra and grass skirt. The best part is, no one really knows where Harry came from. All we know is that he’s been in the middle of the beer garden of The Beaver since the 1940’s. See, Harry’s sort of the official mascot at one of our favorite hangouts in our small Virginian town along the Bay.
Jupiter Bay: Home of eight thousand busybodies who know everything about you, and will still go out of their way to help a friend in need. And since everyone knows everyone in Jupiter Bay, everyone’s your friend.
Or so they think.
Right now, I’m about to putt my bright pink ball through the spinning windmill and sink it in the hole for my second birdy of the night. What can I say? Putt putt is my sport. I know my way around the green.
“If you make this shot, I swear I’m never inviting you to play again,” my younger sister Meghan grumbles.
“Why don’t you shove that straw in your mouth and zip your lips while I sink this putt.” My backstroke is smooth, my follow-through precise as I tap my ball, sending it sailing through the windmill, bouncing perfectly off the sideboard, and dropping it straight into the cup. Perfect. Shot.
A round of groans erupt behind me as my five sisters watch my celebratory golf club shimmy. I turn around to face them, all bright eyed and wide smiled, and pretend to buff my fingernails on my shoulder and blow off the dust. This sister is on fire tonight. And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the three draft Heinekens I’ve already consumed since our arrival a little over an hour ago. No, I can hold my liquor. The beer only helps perfect my putt putt awesomeness.
“I don’t even know why we come here. You kill it every time,” my oldest sister Payton says.
“Don’t be jealous of my mini-golf amazingness. It’s a gift. The LPGA called last week and is interested in my skills,” I tell her, taking a final drink from my cup.
“I’m just glad to finally see the old Jaime again,” AJ adds solemnly. The look on her face lets me know she clearly didn’t mean to vocalize the thought. My sisters glance at each other–everywhere but at me, really–before adding discreet little nods.
I can’t dispute her statement, because AJ is right. I haven’t been myself. Not since my fiancé, Gavin, left me practically standing at the altar. In reality, it was the week of our pending nuptials, but the resulting damage was the same nonetheless. I was wrecked.
The result of the breakup was my return home to Jupiter Bay. I was the only sister to head off to college and not return home. My plan was simple, be married to a successful man by thirty with baby number one on the way by our one-year anniversary. I dreamed of staying home with my brood of adorable little brunette babies with their daddy’s hazel eyes. Company dinners, family outings, and PTA meetings. That’s what I wanted, and I was one week away from crossing phase one off the checklist when my world came crashing down around me.
I’m a planner by nature. I like to make lists of my daily tasks, my weekly chores, my life goals. Everything and anything can be organized properly on a nice little checklist, ensuring no detail is missed, nothing overlooked. Funny, but never on that list was being dumped before my master plan could fully get off the ground.
My plan essentially stalled the day I received that text. Yep, you heard me correctly. The jerkface pond scum couldn’t even break my heart and shatter my dreams to my face. He took the cowards way out and sent an impersonal message as if he were canceling a business meeting with a client.
Gavin: Hey, sorry this is last minute but I can’t marry you.
End of story.
And maybe that’s all I was: an inconvenience to disregard.
Even though Gavin and I had been together for five years, there never really was that spark, that chemistry that makes you want to rip your clothes off and get it on in the middle of a busy street. We were comfortable, plain and simple. Oh, it didn’t start that way. It started as a powerful new love, each one craving the other with an intensity never before felt. Unfortunately, the flicker fizzled and died about as quickly as a sparkler on the Fourth of July. It was all big and bright, and then nothing but the residual smoke.
But even so, I didn’t see it coming and was gutted the day he ended our relationship as if I was nothing–meant nothing. Now, I’m the proverbial hamster on the wheel, spinning, spinning, and going nowhere fast. The sister with big dreams of a house, husband, kids, and a cat whose dream never even got off the ground.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” AJ mumbles, turning her shining eyes on mine for the first time since her comment.
“No, it’s alright. You don’t ever have to apologize for speaking your mind. Especially when we all know it was the truth.”
“Are you excited to start at the shop Monday?” my youngest sister, one of the twins, Abby, asks.
“I guess.” I desperately suck the remaining droplets of beer out of my empty cup. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I know I can’t stay at home any longer. I can’t decide if Grandpa walks around in his tighty whities because he likes it casual and breezy or if he’s trying to scare me out of the house.”
Easy laughter fills the cool, early June night. Five sets of sparkling green eyes of various shades of my own stare back at me. “I think he’s just more comfortable in his skivvies. He used to do that all the time when I was still at home,” Lexi says. “Remember how we were always terrified to have friends spend the night?”
“Oh, I definitely remember that,” Payton adds with a hearty laugh.
Payton is the oldest Summer sister, three years older than my twenty-nine years. While all of us look strikingly similar in appearance, Payton and I have the closest resemblance. Well, if you don’t include the twins. Payton owns Blossoms and Blooms in downtown Jupiter Bay where, as of this coming Monday morning, I’ll be working full-time, trying to find my next passion in life. No, I don’t intend to find my new dream while arranging roses and baby’s breath, especially when my thumb is as brown as they come. Lord knows I can’t even keep dandelions in the yard alive.
