The Sometimes Sisters(4)



Crossing the floor in a few long strides, she found the bathroom the same. She and Wyatt had taken lots of baths together in the old claw-foot tub. A picture of both of them on the floor with towels wiping up the water flashed into her mind.

“It was fun at the time,” she muttered.

The vanity looked new, but if it was, it had been ordered from the same place as the old one. Little soaps along with shampoo, conditioner, and hand lotion were placed in a basket with fancy folded white washcloths. Towels were rolled and stuffed into slots on a wall-hung cabinet.

She turned away and groaned at the boxes stacked inside the door. If she unpacked and then couldn’t get along with her two bitchy sisters, it would be a big waste of time. Finally, she decided to unload the suitcases and shove the boxes into the oversize closet, built originally to hold a foldout twin bed for a child.

When one side of the closet was filled, she set about hanging up her clothing. She’d packed in a hurry when Uncle Zed called to tell her that her grandmother had passed and that she should come prepared to stay a spell.

Harper had always gone into a job with the attitude that she wouldn’t take bullshit from anyone. This would be no different. Just because Dana was her smart half sister and Tawny was her beautiful younger sister, it did not mean they could lord anything over her. Her attitude might have gotten her fired more than once from California to Texas and up into Oklahoma, but bartenders were always needed. If she couldn’t get along with her two sisters for more than an hour, she might even drive a few miles up the road and apply for a job at that bar she’d passed. That should tilt Tawny’s halo.



“Hey, Mama, you sure you want to sleep in this room? Uncle Zed said that Granny Annie died in that bed.” Brook shivered.

“I’m very sure,” she answered. “I loved her so much that I hope her spirit visits me from time to time.”

“You do know that she was cremated, right?” Brook’s big brown eyes got wider with each word.

“That was her body. Her spirit lives on in her granddaughters.” Dana organized her jeans in the closet by dress, work, and almost worn completely out. Zed, God love his soul, had already emptied out Granny Annie’s things from the room.

Although she hadn’t come around nearly enough, Dana had visited Granny Annie more often than the two “legitimate” granddaughters, so by damn she deserved the right to stay in the house.

They could each pick out a cabin—that would keep the two snooty little princesses out of her hair while she tried to run this conglomeration of businesses.

Dana’s father, Gavin, wouldn’t acknowledge that she was his child, but her Clancy blue eyes said differently. She was the bastard sister—the product of a wild night of drinking during her mother and father’s senior year at a party on the lake. They’d won a basketball game against their rival team and all the players were celebrating. Granny Annie had taken her in like the blood-kin granddaughter that she was and made her a part of the family. And it had been Granny Annie who’d insisted that her mother put Gavin Clancy’s name on the birth certificate and make her an official Clancy even if her parents weren’t married.

“Cinderella and the two mean stepsisters,” Brook giggled.

“The sometimes sisters,” Dana said. “That’s what we called ourselves when we came to see Granny in the summertime. I’m sure not Cinderella, and they are my half sisters, not my stepsisters.”

“Okay, then.” Brook sighed. “But I’m glad you’re stayin’ in here and I get the room where we always slept when we came to visit. It’s strange, her not being here.”

Dana thought she’d cried until there were no more tears, but when she noticed that old, familiar quilt folded and lying across the foot of Granny’s bed, the dam wouldn’t hold. She sat down in the wooden rocker where she’d seen Granny rock both Harper and Tawny so many times and let the grief surface again.

Brook rushed over to her and cried with her, right on the floor in front of the chair. “We’ve got to stop this, Mama. This is going to wear us both out. Let’s talk about something else, like where I’ll be going to school.”

“Frankston—it’s a public school.” Dana dried Brook’s face with the sleeve of her knit shirt.

“That little bitty town that we came through?” Brook’s voice squeaked on the last word.

“It’s where I went until I finished eighth grade. It didn’t kill me to go there, and I don’t expect that you’ll suffer, either.” Dana managed a weak smile. “Change is good. Remember that. You’ve got your own room, and we have a house instead of an efficiency apartment at the back side of the stables.”

“But Mama, I’ve never gone to public school. I bet they don’t even have uniforms,” Brook groaned.

“And you’ve made friends wherever we lived,” Dana countered. “Maybe if things work out, you’ll get to spend all of your high school years here.”

“I hope not!” Brook exclaimed. “This is right on the edge of nowhere. Granny don’t even have Wi-Fi, Mama.”

“Get used to it, kiddo. We could be here for a long time,” Dana said. “Go unpack all your things and settle in. We’re supposed to be at the café at noon. If we are lucky, we’ll get to start running this business tomorrow. And be glad you get to go to school, because you could be cleaning cabins all day.”

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