Page 11 of The Last Lavender Sister

Marigold shook her head. “I’ve not had swirly shoulders. I want to now. God.”

“Naturally.” Her volume took a dip. “It’s not awful. A little foreign maybe.”

A pause. Marigold eased a strand of curly blond hair behind her ear. Aster had always been a fan of that honey-gold color, not to mention the versatility that came with those curls, and her sister didn’t waste the potential. She knew all the best hairstyles and products like some sort of divine wisdom had been imparted to her from the heavens. “Who’s giving you the shoulders?” Marigold asked. “This is getting good.”

“Hmmm?” Aster stalled and applied the pale pink gloss that kept her lips hydrated. While she didn’t pull a lot of attention on average, she had been told she had gorgeous lips, a compliment she’d tucked away. “No one. I’m just talking.”

Marigold turned to her fully. “Are not. You’re the only kid sister I have, so I need you to be more forthcoming. How am I supposed to counsel you without context?”

Aster looked around, gawking at imaginary people to showcase her indignation. “Who says I need counseling?”

“Oh, but you do,” Violet said, strolling up to the counter, back from her break. She turned to Marigold. “Do you remember when she used to eat peanut butter from the jar with a spoon?”

Marigold nodded. “Oh yes. It still hurts that we let it come to that.”

“Hyperbole. Plus, it was quicker that way,” Aster offered. “And I was six. And I might still do it.”

“I had a feeling,” Marigold said, patting her head with sympathy.

Aster ducked out of the pat. “All right. That’s enough of that. Give me the shea butter Mom promised, so I can flee this judgment laden zone.”

“You can’t leave,” Violet said, enveloping her in a warm hug. “We love you too much.”

“We do and we must shower you with affection until you agree to stay,” Marigold said, joining the hug, smothering Aster further as she squirmed to free herself of her sisters’ affection. They gave her a hard time regularly but made their love known just as often. A nearby shopper raised an eyebrow, eying the overhugging, probably wondering if the young woman in the middle of the forced hug huddle required assistance. She made sure to grin and assuage the man’s concern. He went back to sniffing soap.

“Okay, okay. I’ll hang out for a minute if you’ll halt the lovefest.”

“I agree to the terms,” Violet said, kissing Aster’s head and releasing her. “But you’re really cute. Just look at you.”

Marigold also let go. “I’ll eat your face, though. Postponed. But it might happen. So don’t get comfortable.”

“I’m good and warned,” Aster said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

Marigold took a minute and tapped her chin, remembering her detective work was unfinished. She tossed Violet a look. “I think Aster’s met someone online.”

“A girlfriend?” Violet said, delighted, her eyes wide and celebratory. “Bring her over immediately. You’ve never brought a girl home before. Oh! Even better, we can double with Tad.”

“Can’t. She doesn’t exist.” Aster liked having a little secret. The source of her swirly shoulders was strictly her knowledge, and she planned to keep it that way. Plus, she and Brynn weren’t even close to romantic.

“So you say,” Marigold said in a singsongy voice as she rang up the soap sniffer. “That will be thirty-seven dollars and fifty-six cents.”

“For three bars of soap?” the man asked, brow furrowed.

“Fresh lavender soap,” Marigold reminded him, pointing behind her. “Just off the farm over there.”

He huffed and finally thrust forth two twenties as if parting with members of his family. He clearly wanted that soap, and who could blame him? Heavenly stuff.

When their customer took his leave, Violet frowned. “I’m worried for you, Aster.”

“Me? Why?” Aster asked.

“Because you keep to yourself too much. You sell your doughnuts until lunchtime. You read. You ride your bike. What else?”

Ouch. “I never claimed to be riveting.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” Marigold said. “Aster is Aster. She likes things that way.”

Aster slung her arm around Marigold’s shoulders and stared at Violet. “I’m a boring lone ranger and just fine with it.” She wasn’t, but she was trying to improve her circumstances quietly.

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