Page 9 of Our Way Back


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Luckily, Karina doesn’t bother asking any more intrusive questions.

The remainder of our lunch is filled with light questions about my career, London, and the fun things we both like. I realize right away that we don’t have a single thing in common.

We’re complete opposites.

Yeah, I will not be seeing her again.

On Friday,Mom, Spencer, and I meet up at the spa for a full body pamper treatment. Mom is dragging Spencer and me along to a charity gala that she and Dad must attend tonight, so she’s bribing us with a trip to the spa. We’d always have to attend the galas that our parents’ high society friends hosted when we were younger. And now, even as adults, we’re still being forced to attend.

Okay, maybe not forced, but highly encouraged and expected.

I've always hated attending these types of events. It wasn’t so bad as a kid because I had someone to face it with, but now, I'm going solo. Yes, I’ll have Spence, but she’ll be too busy on the prowl for her future husband to pay much attention to me. She won't find a man she likes, but that won't stop her from trying. Spencer is three years older than me, and I know it hurt her ego when I got married first. She’d always said she’d be married by twenty-five, but now, she’s twenty-nine without a prospect in sight.

Without her holding my hand, I’ll have no protection against the high society vultures tonight, and I’ll be faced with a million and one questions. I’ve done well enough to avoid the Seattle socialites since I’ve been back home, but my time has run out now, and soon I’ll be in a room full of them.

“Mom, I think I’m getting the flu. I might be contagious, so I think I should sit this one out.” I fake a cough, looking over at her, giving her the sad puppy dog eyes I used as a child when I wanted to get my way.

“Nice try, Camille. You’re going, no ifs or buts.” Mom scoffs, not even bothering to look in my direction. She knows I'm being dramatic and don’t want to attend.

“I’m a twenty-six-year-old woman, and you can’t force me to go.” I huff, my voice high-pitched and whiney. Spencer laughs stiffly from underneath her mud face mask.

“Wanna bet?” Mom raises her perfectly threaded eyebrows at me, and I surrender with a sigh. “Good. Now sit back and let Leigh finish your brows.” I do as I'm told. I recline in the cosmetic chair and allow Leigh, my assigned spa specialist, to continue threading my eyebrows, shaping them into perfection.

Six hours and threaded eyebrows, a Brazilian wax, a manicure and pedicure, a hydrating facial mask, and a massage later, I feel like a brand-new woman. I’m perfectly groomed and ready for the long night ahead of faking smiles and pretending to care about people I don’t even like.

Today has been a good day, but I’ve been unable to shake the gut feeling that something is going to happen.

The dark cloud that hangs above my head is in place, ready to rain on any chance of having a good night.

Spencer cameover to my condo to get ready a few hours ago.

Now we stand side by side in my master bathroom at the double vanity, applying makeup to our faces and sipping red wine.

She applied my eyeshadow, giving me the perfect smoky eye with winged eyeliner, and I applied my foundation and contour, painting my lips a deep shade of matte red and contouring my face to perfection. Spence even does my hair in a chignon bun with tendrils framing my face.

As children, Spence loved to dress me up and get me ready for whatever gala we’d have to attend, and that hasn’t changed.

I’ve just finished putting the diamond earrings in my ears, courtesy of our mother, when Spencer steps behind me and wraps her arms around me from behind. We stare at our reflection in the mirror, and I see her glossy muddy green eyes staring back at me. “Spence, what’s wrong?” With a frown, I turn to face my sister.

“Nothing, I’m fine. I’m just so happy that you’re back home. I missed you so much.” She pulls me in for a hug and squeezes me a little tighter, then steps away and fans herself with her hands, willing her tears not to fall.

When I left Seattle for school years ago, I did my best to see my family as often as I could. I even called every day, but I missed them deeply. My sister, most of all.

She’s three years older, and I know that siblings often have their rough moments where they fight and argue, but that’s never been the case for us. She’s been my best friend and protector since the day I was born. Mom and dad told me that when they brought me home from the hospital, Spencer declared that I was her baby, and her three-year-old self would get up every night with Mom when it was time for my feedings. Where most older siblings hated having their younger siblings around, she loved when I was around. We were so inseparable that she even tried to keep me with her at school on her first day of kindergarten. I had gone with Mom to drop Spencer off, and while she was speaking with the teacher, Spencer hid me in the closet, hoping our mother wouldn’t notice. Obviously, her plan was flawed, and I was discovered when I started crying because the closet was dark.

“I love you, Spence. Now, no more tears. Let’s smile and see how fucked up we can get tonight.” She nods, then takes her wine glass from my vanity, draining it in one gulp. She sets it down and slips into my bedroom, while I go into the closet to get dressed.

“By the way, Mom sent over our dresses. You’re not going to need panties or a bra!” she calls out loud enough so I’ll hear her from where I’m standing inside my walk-in closet.

I nod to myself but do what I came in here to do in the first place. Grabbing my purse from the floor, I dig inside until I find the prescription bottle that I’ve come to rely heavily on. Quickly opening the bottle, I take out one of the little blue pills and pop it in my mouth, shoving the bottle back into my purse. I wash the pill down with a swig of wine, praying that it kicks in soon and my nerves will subside. I just need to get through the night.

Back in my room, Spencer hands me the black dress bag that contains my dress for the gala before taking her own into the bathroom to dress. I untie my silk bathrobe and let it fall to the floor, exposing my naked body to the chilly room. Goosebumps cover my flesh once the AC kicks on. Carefully removing the dress from the bag, I unzip it and step into it just as Spencer returns to the room wearing a stunning green velvet floor-length dress.

Looking over her appearance, I whistle. “Damn, sis, I’m definitely becoming an aunt tonight,” I say jokingly, watching as she spins around, modeling the dress while I clap and yell out catcalls.

“Is this dress going to get me a husband? Or are you thinking I’ll just end the night knocked up?”

“Knocked up for sure. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up with your own Ben Stone. A guy not very attractive but can sure make you laugh.” I wiggle my eyebrows, referring to the movieKnocked Upthat she has seen a trillion times while claiming it’s not her favorite movie. Liar. I know it is.

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