Page 131 of The Comeback Summer

LIBBY

This whole summer, I’ve been giving Hannah credit for all the progress I’ve made. Sure, we’ve both done the work, but she was the one who got me out there, who motivated me and kept me going. I honestly didn’t think I could do it without her.

But I have. Every single day this week.

While I don’t think I’ll ever be the kind of person who finds working out “fun,” I do love the thrill of doing something I wasn’t able to do before. Take the jungle gym at the playground by our house. I can deadhang for almost two minutes now—a far cry from the three seconds I started out at. And even though I hate doing the steps by the river, I did them after work yesterday, not complaining once.

Of course, I didn’t have anyone to complain to...

Not talking to Hannah this week has made me realize that maybe we don’t need each other as much as I thought we did. But I do miss her.

I look up to see my sister on her side of the office we share.She’s hard at work—on what, I have no idea. The only active project we have at the moment is a press release for MySole.

Hannah smiles, and I’m both relieved to see her happy and instantly curious. I consider emailing or texting to ask what’s going on, since it wouldn’ttechnicallybe talking, but I don’t want to be the one to break this silent treatment first. Plus, she might take my innocent curiosity as a ploy to swoop in and control her like an evil stepsister, minus the step part.

“Sisters!” Great Scott says. We both look up as he strikes a pose in our doorway. “What time do you want Hot Noah from MySole to come in tomorrow?”

“Did you look at our calendars?” I ask.

“Did I look at your calendars,” Scott says with his typical flair. “Of course I did—but Hannah is only open from two to three, and you’re booked from two to four.”

I open my calendar. Suji and I are supposed to grab coffee with two friends of hers from grad school who are thinking about opening their own public relations firm. It’s a meeting I could easily shift, but I’m not going to surrender so easily. Not without finding out what has Hannah’s schedule so packed.

“Why don’t you ask my sister to move her meeting?” I say, trying to ignore the look of indignation on Hannah’s face.

“Askmysister to changehermeeting,” Hannah says. “Her schedule isn’t the only one that matters around here.”

“Actually, Scott, it would be great if you could tell my sister—”

“Enough!” Scott yells, clearly exasperated. “My skin can’t take this toxic work environment. If you bitches make me break out, I will never forgive you. I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is, you need to talk about it like adults instead ofacting like two ten-year-old girls fighting over a My Little Pony. Grow the hell up!”

With that, he turns and walks out of the office, leaving Hannah and me speechless. I’m about to say something about Scott having his panties in a bunch, but then I remember we’re not talking. The crack in my heart deepens. I hate being mad at my sister even more than I hate her being mad at me.

I’m about to surrender victory and break the silence when Hannah’s phone buzzes. She looks down and smiles again. This time, her happiness seems like a personal attack.

I look back at the browser window on my computer with the event-planning certification program Suji sent me. During our coffee break yesterday, I told her about some of the epic theme parties I used to throw.

“That’s what you should be doing,” she said when I finished. “Whenever you talk about planning events, your whole face lights up. I’ve never seen you get that excited about a press release.”

It’s true; I love creating experiences and moments that bring people together, but I never considered doing it professionally. I was born to be in PR. At least that’s what I always believed.

I click through the sign-up button, surprised to see that the six-week certification course is only two hundred dollars. Not a bad investment—and if by some miracle we end up saving the business, it could open a whole new revenue stream.

If this was last week, I’d ask Hannah to do a cost-risk analysis, but in this new sisterless world, I’m going to have to get comfortable taking risks on my own.

“Ahem.”

Scott is back. Hannah and I both snap, “What?!” in disgruntled harmony.

“You have a visitor,” he says, and in walks Lou.

Hannah’s face crumples, and I gulp. Lou’s wearing her signature pink, but instead of her usual smile, there’s a frown on her face, as if she can read the tension in the room.

“Ladies,” Lou says, her voice tinged with disappointment and concern. She doesn’t bother looking back at Scott as she says, “Give us a minute.”

My stomach sinks as Lou closes the door. I feel like I just got called into the principal’s office.

“I know we’re not supposed to meet until Thursday, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop in to see how y’all were doing.” Lou pauses, and her silence carries the weight of disapproval.

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