Page 25 of Nothing Less than Magic
“Are you going to try to get him back?”
“Why would I do that? He’s in love with someone else.”
“Are you still in love with him?”
“If you’d asked me a week ago, I would’ve said yes. But now . . .”
“You’re not so sure?”
I lift my shoulders. “Sometimes I think I’m living in an alternative universe. Anyway, what do you say we don’t talk about Austin this weekend?”
“That’s fine by me,” Lolly says. “I never much liked him anyway.”
I start to say her dislike of Austin isn’t fair, but we’d just agreed to not talk about him anymore.
“Would you like to go out to dinner tonight? I’d love to show you the town and this newly refurbished hotel that has an amazing restaurant that I know you’ll appreciate.” It’s about the only thing in Ghost that is up to Lolly’s impossible standards.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Where’s your stuff?” I don’t remember seeing any luggage.
“It’s still in the car.”
“Let’s get it and you can unpack, get comfortable, and later we can decide about going to town.”
Lolly totters all the way to the car on her four-inch heels. We’ll have to look for a good shoe store.
She’s brought enough bags to stay for a month, but I bet nothing she’s packed is practical for the country. That’s my sister for you. I help her carry them into the house, then show her to the guest room.
“Where’s my bathroom?”
“There’s only one,” I say. “We’ll have to share.”
My sister scrunches up her nose.
“Lolly, we grew up sharing the same bathroom. It won’t kill you to do it again for a few days.”
“It might.” She glances around the cramped room and zeroes in on the tiny closet. “Oh boy.”
“There’s room in mine.” I take her to the primary bedroom and shove my clothes to one side of a closet that is only slightly larger than hers.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“You passed it when we came in here,” I say through gritted teeth.
She’s intentionally being difficult, but I vow to keep my cool. I’m thrilled she’s here and don’t want to do anything that’ll make her leave. It’s a delicate balance with us.
She grabs two toiletry bags from her suitcases and hogs all the space on the sink vanity. “Honestly, I don’t know how you live this way.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Loll. It’s a vacation cabin, not Folsom Prison.”
She lets out an aggrieved sigh. “Whatever, I’ll make it work.”
“Thank you. It means a lot to me.”
She studies me to see if I’m being facetious, which I sort of am but am trying not to be.
“Where were you earlier?” she asks.
