California Girls

Sunday morning they’d slept late, then gone on a leisurely bike ride before heading to brunch, followed by the drive home. She’d loved every second with him, but was also still trying to take it all in. Six weeks ago, she’d thought he didn’t like her very much. Now they were involved and he’d made it clear he’d had a thing for her from the start. She needed a second to catch her breath.

“It’s whatever you want,” he told her when they got home. “We had a great weekend, but that doesn’t have to lead to something else. We can go back to what we had before. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m not going to push.”

“Thank you. It’s just everything happened so fast.”

Emotions darkened his eyes, but they were gone so quickly, she wasn’t sure what she’d seen. Maybe disappointment, maybe something else.

He started toward the stairs that would take him to his room on the second floor. With each step he moved farther and farther away from her.

“Wait!” she called. He stopped and turned back to her.

She thought about all she’d been through. All the times she hadn’t asked for what she wanted, hadn’t risked not going along. She thought of the way Glen had treated her, of how she’d been left to deal with everything while he’d just disappeared. Only Daniel had stood with her, shouldering the burden. She thought of how he’d invited her into his house and kept her safe and how he’d held her all night long. She thought of the wedding cake she’d had to pay for. Spice cake instead of chocolate, because she’d always been afraid to ask for what she wanted. No, not ask—to demand it. Because sometimes it took a demand for the world to pay attention.

She walked up to him. “I want us to be together. I want us to start dating and I want it to be exclusive. I want us to be lovers and boyfriend and girlfriend and I want to learn how to ride a motorcycle for real.”

His gaze was steady, even as one corner of his mouth turned up. “That’s very direct.”

“It is.”

“And specific.”

“I want what I want.” Some of her courage faded. “What do you want?”

He cupped her face in his hand. “You, Ali. I’ve always wanted you.” He brushed her mouth with his. “Want to move your things upstairs?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. “In a little bit. First I think we should have sex.”

He grinned. “You do, huh?”

“Yes. Right now.” She looked around. “On the kitchen table.”

He chuckled. “It’s gonna be cold.”

“I trust you to keep me warm.”

She trusted him with a whole lot more than that, but keeping her warm was a great place to start.





Chapter Twenty-Three


Zennie didn’t like being pregnant. There—she’d said it. Okay, not out loud, but she’d thought it. Actually, being pregnant was fine, it was the hormones that were going to do her in.

She felt fragile. She’d never felt fragile in her life. She was emotional spun glass, with tears always ready to rise to the surface and a heart that felt broken. She’d cried twice the previous day. Twice! Who did that? Gina and she still weren’t speaking, which was hard, but so was everything else in her life. Deciding what T-shirt to wear to help out her mom on a Sunday afternoon seemed impossible. Commercials made her weepy. She wanted to hold kittens and save whales and have someone big and strong hold her tight and promise everything would fine.

Not anything she wanted to dwell on, she told herself as she drove to her mom’s place to help with yet more sorting. Zennie hoped they wouldn’t find anything emotionally significant because she didn’t want to have a meltdown in front of anyone. Bad enough to sob at home.

When she got to the house, she found her mom was out and only Finola was at home.

“Mom’s off with her theater friends and Ali’s not coming,” she said by way of greeting. “She went up to Santa Barbara for the weekend. Probably for the best. Getting away would make things easier.”

“What things?” Zennie asked.

Finola surprised her by smiling. “Thank you for not remembering. I have felt like I go from bitch to bigger bitch lately. It’s good to know you can be thoughtless, too.”

A normal sister kind of comment that would have been fine any other time in her life, but not right now, Zennie thought, tears filling her eyes.

“How was I thoughtless?” she asked, her voice shaking.

Finola stared at her. “What’s wrong with you? Are you crying? You never cry.”

“It’s the hormones,” Zennie said, wiping her cheek. “I’m a mess. I’ve gone through more boxes of tissues in the past three days than in my entire life. I hate it.”

Finola surprised her by pulling her close. “You are a mess. I kind of like it.”

The hug felt good. Zennie hung on longer than she would have before, and Finola didn’t let her go until she was ready. When they stepped back, Zennie promised herself she was going to power through.

“The hormones are supposed to get better in a few weeks,” she said. “They’re what cause morning sickness. It’s the surges or some such crap. So far my stomach’s a rock, but I’m crying twenty times a day. It’s humiliating.” She tried to shake it off. “So what did I forget?”

“Yesterday was Ali’s wedding day.”

Zennie collapsed on the sofa and covered her face. “I’m the worst sister ever.”

“You and me both. Only Mom remembered. I thought about sending flowers, but seriously, what would the card say? Sorry you got dumped and now it’s your wedding day? Maybe we should just take her to dinner later this week.”

Zennie nodded. “Poor Ali. She has to feel terrible. She’s all alone, living in pain, knowing Glen walked out on her. I can’t believe I forgot her wedding day.”

Finola eyed her. “Yes, it was awful. Now let it go.”

“How can I?”

“I liked you a lot better when you were stuck-up and sanctimonious. I’m just saying.” Finola motioned for her to stand. “Are you going to be like this when we go to the gala together? I’d really rather not have you sobbing every five seconds. People will start to talk.”

Zennie followed her sister into the dining room. The table and chairs would be easy to get rid of, but the massive hutch was another issue. The upper cabinets were all filled with dishes and glasses and serving pieces, while the cabinets and drawers below overflowed with crap from their lives.