Page 92 of Spicy Sapphic Christmas

“Cool?”

“I adore Piper, but I was hoping to just have a sister brunch. I need those other details.”

Jo winced. She needed to call Piper before she went into this conversation. She needed to figure out what storyline they were going to feed Bea. “Okay, give me half an hour and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“See you then.”

Jo hung up and texted Piper immediately, hoping against all hope that she was awake. When there was no response in the first five minutes, Jo jumped in the shower and started getting ready for this brunch. What felt like every five seconds, she’d peek her head out and stare at her phone as if Piper had just called and she’d missed it—but she hadn’t. Radio silence.

Taking a few deep breaths, she stared at herself in the mirror. She usually didn’t mind how she looked. She saw the flaws that no one else ever seemed to notice, but she liked those as well.

But today her reflection didn’t look like her.

Well, it looked like her in all the superficial ways, but the sadness in her eyes made even her pause. There were too many thoughts swarming around inside her head. Her phone pinged, and she lifted it off the bathroom counter.

Mandy.

God, why had she replied to those texts?

But she knew why. She always knew why. The idea of being hated made the contents of her stomach curdle, despite the littleshe had eaten over the last twenty-four hours. She didn’t want to care. And no doubt there were lots of people out in the world who thought shit things about her. But to know a person who did hate her ate away at her very self.

The phone pinged again with another message from Mandy. She had to be stronger than this. She had to find a way to live with someone hating her or with someone thinking she was a bad person. Because maybe she was.

Jo jumped as Bea knocked on her door. It wasn’t any louder than normal, but she’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts. Forcing her best and brightest smile on, she pulled open her front door and wrapped her arms around her sister.

“Um… hi.” Bea chuckled and hugged Jo back. As they let each other go, Bea smiled her own fake grin. Jo could tell it from a mile away, but she couldn’t exactly get on her high horse and call Bea out on it.

Jo grabbed her handbag from the small table beside the front door, pulling the door closed and ensuring it was locked behind her. “Where are you taking me? And it better be somewhere nice.”

“I was thinking…” Bea threaded her arm through Jo’s. The action so familiar that Jo’s smile relaxed, becoming morerealJo and lessSole SisterJo. “Maybe Tanya’s?”

“Oh, that’s perfect.” Jo leaned into her sister. Bea followed suit, and the sides of their heads pressed together for a moment, their feet not missing a step.

Tanya’s was a small hidden secret the sisters had been going to for years. The bell above the door tinkled as Bea held it open for Jo. Jo took a deep breath as she stepped inside. Aromas wafted to them from the kitchen. A mixture of melting butter, glazed sugar, and fresh coffee wrapped around her shoulders and hugged her tightly.

She loved it for all of its lack of pretentiousness. There were no signed celebrity posters, no announcements of prizes won, and no pompous airs or overpriced items. Sliding into their usual booth, Jo relaxed into the softened faded fabric and sighed.

“The usual?” Bea asked, already halfway to the counter.

“Of course,” Jo replied even as she picked up the menu and flicked casually through it.

By the time Bea returned, Jo had tears running down her cheeks.

“Oh, Jo.” Bea slid into the booth next to Jo and pulled her into a side hug. Jo fell willingly into Bea’s motherly embrace and sniffled as she failed to get the tears to stop. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s changing. Even Tanya’s.”

“Tanya’s?” Bea leaned back a little and looked down at Jo. Jo lifted her eyes and nodded.

“Look.” She shuffled out of Bea’s hug and thrust the menu at Bea.

“What am I looking at?” Bea asked as she flicked through the first two pages. Jo waited, knowing she would get there soon enough. “Oh.”

“Yep.”

“No more butternut squash soup.”

Bea laughed even as her own eyes grew glassy from unshed tears.

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