Between Sisters

Claire handed Alison the key. “Here you go, Ali Kat. You’re in charge. Show us the way.”


With a yelp, Ali was off. She zigzagged through the now-crowded lobby and burst outside. This time her feet slapped the porch steps.

Claire hurried along behind her. As soon as they’d gotten their luggage from the car, they raced across the expanse of lawn, past the boat-rental shed, and plunged into the trees. The ground here was hard-packed dirt, carpeted with a hundred years’ worth of pine needles.

Finally, they came to the clearing. A silvery wooden dock floated on the wavy blue water, tilting from side to side in a gentle rocking motion. Far out, across the lake, a white condo grouping sat amid the golden humps of the distant foothills.

“Clara Bella!”

Claire tented a hand over her eyes and looked around.

Gina stood at the shoreline, waving.

Even from here, Claire could see the size of the drink in her friend’s hand.

This would be Gina’s intervention week. Usually Gina was the conservative one, the buoy that held everyone up, but she’d finalized her divorce a few months ago and she was adrift. A single woman in a paired-up world. Last week, her ex-husband had moved in with a younger woman.

“Hurry up, Ali!” That was Gina’s six-year-old daughter, Bonnie.

Alison dropped her Winnie-the-Pooh backpack and peeled off her clothes.

“Alison—”

She proudly showed off her yellow bathing suit. “I’m ready, Mommy.”

“Come here, honey,” Gina said, pulling out an industrial-size plastic tube of sunscreen. Within moments, she’d slathered Alison all over and released her.

“Don’t go in past your belly button,” Claire said, dropping their suitcases right there, in the sand.

Alison grimaced. “Aw, Mommy,” she whined, then ran for the water, splashing in to join Bonnie.

Claire sat down beside Gina in the golden sand. “What time did you get here?”

Gina laughed. “On time, of course. That’s one thing I’ve learned this year. Your life can fall apart, frigging explode, but you’re still who you are. Maybe even more so. I’m the kind of woman who gets someplace on time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Rex would disagree. He always said I wasn’t spontaneous enough. I thought it meant he wanted sex in the afternoon. Turns out he wanted to skydive.” She shook her head, gave Claire a wry smile. “I’d be happy to shove him out of the plane now.”

“I’d rig his parachute for him.”

They laughed, though it wasn’t funny. “How’s Bonnie doing?”

“That’s the saddest part of all. She barely seems to notice. Rex was never home anyway. I haven’t told her that he moved in with another woman, though. How do you tell your kid something like that?” Gina leaned against Claire, who slipped an arm around her friend’s ample body. “God, I needed this week.”

They were silent for a long moment. The only sound between them was the slapping of the water against the dock and the girls’ high-pitched laughter.

Gina turned to her. “How have you done it all these years? Been alone, I mean?”

Claire hadn’t thought much about her solitude since Alison’s birth. Yes, she’d been alone—in the sense that she’d never been married or lived with a man, but she rarely felt lonely. Oh, she noticed it, ached sometimes for someone to share her life, but she’d made that choice a long time ago. She wouldn’t be like her mother. “The upside is, you can always find the TV remote and no one bitches at you to wash the car or park in the perfect spot.”

“Seriously, Claire. I need advice.”

Claire looked out at Alison, who was standing up to her belly button in the water and jumping up and down, yelling out the ABC song. The sight made Claire’s chest tighten. Only yesterday Ali had fit in the crook of her arm. In no time, she’d be asking to have her eyebrow pierced. Claire knew she loved her daughter too much; it was dangerous to need another human being so desperately, but Claire had never known any other way to love. That was why she’d never been married. Men who loved their wives unconditionally were few and far between. In truth, Claire wondered if that kind of true love existed. That doubt was one of many legacies handed down from mother to daughter like an infectious disease. For Mama, divorce had been the answer; for Claire, it was never to say “I do” in the first place.

“You get past being lonely. And you live for your kids,” she said softly, surprised to hear regret in her voice. There was so much she’d never dared to reach for.

“Ali shouldn’t be your whole world, Claire.”

“It’s not like I didn’t try to fall in love. I’ve dated every single guy in Hayden.”

“None of them twice.” Gina grinned. “And Bert Shubert is still in love with you. Miss Hauser thinks you’re crazy for letting him go.”