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Our table goes quiet as her gaze lowers, and I watch as she begins fidgeting—shifting in her seat, running her fingers over the edges of her placemat, and adjusting her silverware. Seeing her like this is such a contrast to the gritty exterior she’s always trying to project. This woman in front of me now, the one who’s feeling anxious from the silence, that’s the real Lori. This is the woman I saw a glimpse of in the coffee shop. The one who pretended to be working as I approached her table, the red on her cheeks spreading as I got closer.
She clears her throat, pulling me from my thoughts. When I meet her narrowed eyes, I realize I’ve been caught staring, and the smile I hadn’t noticed on my lips falls as I straighten my back against the seat.
“So, journalism, is that something you’ve always wanted to do?”
She crosses her arms. “Really? You want to do the small talk thing now?” I shrug, and she sighs. “Fine. No. I hate journalism, if you want to know the truth.”
“So, how did you end up doing it?”
“It was a way for me to use my degree and have an outlet for my writing.”
“Ah, so you’re a writer. That explains a lot.”
She scoffs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table. “Like what?”
“All the brooding you do.”
“I do not brood.” There’s more humor in her tone than anger as she grabs a wadded-up straw wrapper and hurls it at me. I dodge her weapon of choice with a lopsided grin on my face, holding up my hands in surrender. “All right, enough about me. Why don’t you tell me how you ended up wearing a badge and carrying around a gun? It seems to me if authority and handcuffs do it for you, a BDSM lifestyle would be a lot safer.”
I nearly choke on my water, trying to keep from spitting it out, and the poor waitress’s face is bright red as she places our lunch on the table. Lori looks up at her and smirks, completely unembarrassed that she heard her comment. Once we’re alone again, Lori’s pointed glare lands on me.
I snort and shake my head. “My career choice doesn’t have anything to do with a need for authority or a kinky obsession. It may not be a safe or glamorous job, but I chose it because I want to help and protect people.”
Her expression is blank as she continues to stare at me, no flippant comment or sarcastic comeback. When I pick up my fork to eat, she reaches across the table and yanks it from my hand.
“What are you doing? You can’t eat Pho with a fork.” She holds up the fork as evidence, then slams it on the table. “You must use your chopsticks.”
“Sorry,” I say, shrugging. “I don’t know how to use chopsticks.”
She shakes her head, grabbing up her chopsticks. “Well, that’s unacceptable. Pick them up, I’ll show you. You cannot be one of those people if we’re going to be friends.”
Though I don’t call her out on what she said, I can’t help the huge smile that spreads across my face as I unwrap my chopsticks.
Friends.
It may not be ideal, and even a little dangerous, but I’m still thrilled at the prospect.
9
Lori
Chewing on my bottom lip, I stare at the Christmas tree in my parents’ living room. It’s the same one they had when we were younger, decorated with all the same hideous hand-crafted ornaments my sister and I made over the years. Same red tree skirt cut out of some leftover material my mother had. It’s so ugly that it’s beautiful. They always put it up by the big window in the front of the house. When I come up their street this time of year and see this god-awful tree shining bright, I feel like a kid again—transported back to a time before the magic of Christmas was lost on me—if only for a moment.
“He’s such a bastard,” I hiss, turning to my baby sister.
Julianna is back in Tennessee for good, thanks to that no-good cheating husband of hers. A fact I didn’t find out until she was already back here, sleeping in Lizzy’s guest bedroom. You’d think I’d be a more obvious and appropriate choice for Julianna’s call of need, but I hadn’t even been her second call. Cat’s the one who filled me in on what was going on. Of course, Smyth being the small busybody town that it is, my entire family had already heard the news by the time Julianna arrived for Christmas at our parents’ house. She spent a good thirty minutes explaining to everyone what happened, while I sat back with my arms crossed waiting to get her to myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on? I could’ve been there for you."
She closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose as she takes a deep breath. When she opens them again, she stands a little straighter and meets my gaze. “Look, it wasn’t personal. I’m sorry. I don’t know…” her words trail off as she tucks her hair behind her ears. “My world was falling apart, and I was simply trying to hold it together. Please don’t be upset with me.”
I pull her into my arms, giving her a tight hug before leaning back to make eye contact again. “I’m not upset with you. Hurt, maybe.” I take a deep breath and give her a soft smile. “I only want you to know I’m here for you. I’m your sister, you can always count on me.”
She nods, her features mimicking mine. “I know. Tell you what, why don’t we have lunch together after the holiday, that way we can talk one-on-one?”
“Really?” My smile widens. “Okay, I’d like that very much.”
“Good,” she says, giving me another quick hug before pulling away. “Now, before I forget. Cat stopped by Lizzy’s with a gift for you.”
