Meghann looked down at her drink, then said softly, “I guess.”
Claire wished she could take back that little cruelty. What was it about their past that made them wound each other so consistently? “I know you’re trying to help, but how can you? You don’t believe in love. Or marriage.”
It was a moment before Meg answered, and when she did speak, her voice was soft. “I’ve never seen a baby crow.”
“What?”
“On my way to work, I see crows clustered along the phone lines in the waterfront park. So I know that every spring there are nests somewhere, filled with tiny newborn crows.”
“Meg, are you having a seizure?”
“My point is: I know things exist that I never see. Love has to be one of them. I’m trying to believe in it for you.”
Claire knew how much it cost her sister to say something like that. No one who’d grown up in Mama’s shadow found it easy to believe in love. That Meghann would try, for Claire’s sake, really meant something. “Thank you. And thanks for planning the wedding. Even if you are keeping every detail a secret.”
“It’s been more fun that I thought. Kinda like being on the prom committee—not that I ever would have been on such a thing.”
“I was Prom Queen.” Claire grinned. “No kidding, and Rhododendron Princess, too, at Mountaineering Days.”
Meghann laughed. Obviously she was relieved by a return to casual conversation. “What does the rhodie princess do?”
“Sit in the back of a 1953 Ford pickup in a dress the color of Pepto-Bismol and wave at the crowd. The 4-H Goat Club walked behind us in the parade. It was raining so hard that I ended up looking like Tim Curry at the end of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Dad took about three dozen photos and put them all in an album.”
Meghann looked down at her drink again. It was a moment before she spoke. “That’s a nice memory.”
Claire immediately regretted her comment. All it did was highlight Meghann’s fatherlessness. “I’m sorry.”
“You were lucky to have Sam. And Ali is lucky to have you. You’re a great mother.”
“Do you regret it?” Claire said, surprising both of them with the intimate question. “Not having kids, I mean.”
“Being a divorce lawyer made me sterile.”
“Meghann,” she said evenly.
Meg finally looked at her. “I don’t think I’d be any good at it. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“You were a good mother to me. For a while.”
“It’s the ‘for a while’ that matters.”
Claire leaned toward her sister. “I’d like you to baby-sit Alison next week. While Bobby and I are on our honeymoon.”
“I thought you weren’t taking a honeymoon.”
“Dad insisted. His wedding gift was a week’s trip to Kauai.”
“And you want me to baby-sit?”
Claire smiled. “It would mean a lot to me. Ali needs to know you better.”
Meghann released a fluttery breath. She looked nervous. “You’d trust me?”
“Of course.”
Meg sat back. A tremulous smile curved her lips. “Okay.”
Claire grinned. “No taking her to the shooting range or teaching her to bungee-jump.”
“So, skydiving lessons are out. Can I take her for a pony ride?”
They were still laughing when Dad pushed through the door and came into the living room. He was already dressed for the rehearsal in black pants—freshly ironed—and a pale blue denim shirt with a River’s Edge logo on the pocket. His brown hair had been recently cut and was combed back from his forehead. If Claire didn’t know better, she’d think he’d moussed it.
“Hey, Dad. You look great.”
“Thanks.” He flashed an uncomfortable smile at her sister. “Meg.”
“Sam,” Meg said stiffly as she got to her feet. “I need to get dressed. Good-bye.”
When Meghann had disappeared upstairs, Sam sighed and shook his head. “I feel about two feet tall when she looks at me.”
“I know the feeling. What’s going on, Dad? I need to get dressed.” She looked past him. “I thought you were playing checkers with Ali?”
“Bobby is trying to French-braid her hair.”
Claire laughed at that and started for the stairs. “I’ll redo it before we leave. You want to pick me up in forty-five minutes?”
“I need to talk to you first. Just for a minute. I didn’t know if I should talk to Bobby at the same time—”
She smiled. “I hope this isn’t my long-overdue sex talk.”
“I talked to you about sex.”
“Don’t do it is not a talk.”
“Wiseass.” He nodded toward the couch. “Sit down. And don’t give me any lip. This’ll just take a second.”
He sat down on the coffee table. “Margaritas, already?” he said, glancing at Meg’s glass.
“I was a little nervous.”
“It makes me think of when I married your mama.”
“Let me guess, she was power-drinking all day.”
“We both were.” He smiled, but it was a little sad, that smile, and it excluded Claire somehow.