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Chapter One
Meghan
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.
Well, except tonight.
See? I’m already a liar and I’ve only barely begun my story.
Tonight, we’re doing string art in the back room of Lucky’s Bar, and even though we’re spending a sisters’ night at a bar, no one is partaking in alcoholic beverages. Not because we don’t want to, but because one-third of our group is very pregnant, and while both Lexi and Jaime have continuously proclaimed to be fine with watching everyone else drink, we’ve decided to stand united and go alcohol-free.
It’s actually not the first time. In fact, a few months ago, when we were making chocolates for Valentine’s Day, we didn’t drink. It just depends on who’s organizing our group activity and where it’s located.
This month was my turn. It’s hard to find activities that aren’t repeated too often, but also find something that we can all agree on. Me? I prefer the crafty, creative nights, which is why we’re tapping tiny nails into a piece of treated wood so we can run string from nail to nail, displaying the design of a colorful flower.
And that’s why Lexi is grumbling on the opposite side of the table. She doesn’t have the patience for crafts. Actually, she doesn’t have much patience for anything.
“I’ve hit my fingers at least four times already. My fingers were already fat and swollen,” our youngest sister complains as she gently taps the nail with her small hammer.
“We need to get that baby out of you. You’re so moody,” AJ says as she gingerly taps her final tiny nail into her board.
“I know,” Lexi agrees. “I still have just over two months to go. I’m just so exhausted all the time.”
“It’s probably because you’re chasing twins around the house,” Abby adds, referring to Lexi’s seven-month-old twin sons.
“Well, only one is actually mobile. Hudson army crawls all over the house like no one’s business, and little Hemi is content just sitting and watching him go. He doesn’t actually have to do much of anything because Hudson gets everything for him.”
“Sounds like you and Abby,” Payton, our oldest sister, chimes in.
“Truth. Lexi didn’t walk until she was well over a year old because Abby ran around and did everything for her,” Jaime adds.
“Didn’t Lexi not walk until closer to a year and a half?” I ask, knowing that it’s a sore spot with our youngest sister. She hates to be reminded that she was lacking in something, even if that something took place while she was still pooping her diaper and drooling down her chin.
“Zip it! Why do we always bring this up? It’s not like I could change it. I was a late bloomer!” Lexi proclaims, her pregnant belly bouncing as she tries not to laugh.
“Almost as late as Abby. When did you finally get boobs?” AJ asks Lexi’s twin without looking up from her art.
“Shut up!” Abby screeches, drawing the attention of the table beside us. “It’s not my fault my boobs didn’t come until I was twenty!”
We all laugh at her exasperation, while she grumbles under her breath about mean and disrespectful sisters.
We should probably go over my family tree, right? Hang on tight. It’s a doozy.
First, there’s Payton. She’s the oldest Summer sister and proud owner of Blossoms and Blooms, the local floral and gift shop in downtown Jupiter Bay. Payton is married to Dean McIntire, an accountant–her accountant, actually. Long, dirty story there. Dean has a daughter, Brielle, from a previous relationship and was a single dad and sole provider until his relationship with my sister. Payton was diagnosed with PCOS years ago and has been struggling with infertility issues. She completed her sixth and final month of Clomid, and has yet to announce what steps they’ll take next, if any, to conceive.
Jaime is next in line as second oldest. She works at Addie’s Place, a local not-for-profit that helps provide afterschool care and assistance for those families who may not be able to afford it. She helps with homework, organizes movies and playtime, and just hangs out with young kids in a mentor kinda way. It’s a wonderful program, one she’s helping grow to include more services. She’s married to Ryan Elson, a local contractor, and together, they’re expecting their first baby mid-June.
AJ, or Alison Jane, is third, and is getting married at the end of July. She’s a math teacher at the grade school and met her fiancé when they almost slept together one night before realizing they were actually coworkers. Funny story; I’ll tell you about it sometime. Sawyer Randall is a former Major League Baseball third baseman, who played ten years for the Rangers, which only elevates his hotness factor with the locals.
I’m next in the order of Summer girls, but we’ll skip me for now.
Finally, rounding out our group at number five and six are the twins, Abigail and Alexis.
Abby is our closet sex-fanatic, working as an editor for a large publisher from New York. She reads smutty, dirty books all day before welcoming home her firefighter and EMT boyfriend, Levi Morgan. They live together (with their supposed “unused” sex swing) and have been hinting about buying a house. I foresee a ring on her finger and another wedding on the horizon very soon.
Finishing off the six Summer sisters is Lexi. By day, she’s a beautician in one of the most popular hair salons in town, with a clientele list longer than my arm. By night, she’s chasing babies around her cute little house with her eight-pack of abs husband, Linkin. He’s a mechanic at a restoration shop and dotes on her so much that it’s almost sickening. They welcomed their twin sons, Hudson and Hemi last September, and quickly learned how fertile a woman can be after being deprived of sex post-delivery. Their third child is due mid-July. Yep, three babies ten-months apart.
