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“What?” I feign confusion, but I know exactly what she’s talking about.
My two other sisters turn to me, inquisitive looks painted on their faces. “I’m sorry?” Meg’s deep voice holds the words a beat too long. “Who’s in love and why don’t I know about it?”
“No one,” I say, pushing my still-full wine glass away from me.
“Lies!” Emmi leans forward, a mischievous smile painted on her face. “Caro here’s got the hots for a hot ass cop who looks like an Italian Thor.”
A collective gasp sounds around the table.
“The one who came into the shop today?” Winona tosses her honey blonde hair over her shoulder. “Why are you holding out on us?”
“Because it isn’t true.” I shrug, reaching for the bowl of almonds.
Meg immediately pulls them out of my reach. “Tell us more, Emmi.”
When I shoot my baby sister a glance, she sits back and crosses her arms with a shit eating grin on her face. Leave it to Emmi to stir the turd. Always.
“He hit my car yesterday and just stopped by today to let me know that he’ll be paying for it. That’s all.” I swipe my hand through the air, but Winona catches it.
“Yeah, something tells me that’s not the whole story.”
“It’s not.” Emmi chimes in, licking the extra icing from her cupcake wrapper. “He asked her out. I heard it first hand.”
My sisters all squeal. Well, Meg kind of winces.
“When’s the big date?” Winona asks, still holding my hand.
“There isn’t one.” I take a deep breath. How do you tell your sisters who have looked up to you for as long as you’ve known them that you don’t believe in love anymore? That the belief died along with their parents.
The answer is, you don’t.
“We moved here together to open this bakery in mom’s honor.” I remind them. “Not for me to go on a dating rampage.”
“I’d hardly call one date arampage.” That’s Meg, astute and precise.
“I moved here to be with you all. Mom’s dream was to open a bakery and here we are. The last thing I need is to screw that dream up in the first weeks that we’re open.”
“How does dating screw up a business, exactly?” Winona scrunches her face and shakes her head.
“Yeah, Caro.” Emmi says, nose back in her phone. “What’s the harm in a little horizontal bopping to take the edge off?”
“I don’t have an edge.” I answer too sharply, too quickly. My three sisters all stare in my direction. “I love you guys. When mom and dad died, I vowed to make sure we all stayed together, as a family unit.”
“And we all agreed that this would be the best thing for all of us.” Meg says, her voice softening. “You’re not in this alone, babe.”
Maybe not anymore.
With three sets of eyes on me, my pits grow hot. I don’t know what to say to them to get them off of my back, but I know I can’t stay here. I grab the bottle of red. “We’re out of wine. I’ll run and get another.” Before they can stop me I’m up from the table, keys in hand. A collective groan echoes in my wake as I head out into the night and hop into my car.
I knew there was a reason I didn’t feel like drinking tonight; I couldn’t have made a quick get away with my senses dulled and my vision impaired. I love when I actually listen to my freaking instincts.
It’s only eight o’clock, but no one’s on the road. The liquor store is only a few miles away, but on back mountain roads it takes a bit longer. Not that I mind, it’s so beautiful here. For a moment I forget about everything as I roll down the window and allow the crisp night air to blow my hair against my face, accelerating the gas.
I let it all go. The judgment from my sisters. The feelings of guilt from my past. The ache in my back from being on my feet all day at the bakery and I just drive.
I close my eyes, for what feels like a second, but when I open them flickering blue and red lights appear in my rear view mirror.
Becausethisis what I need right now. Great.
