Page 42 of Forever Never
She jumped at a sudden bark of laughter behind her and pinched her eyes closed.
Coming apart at the seams wasnotan option at this point. Besides, if she was going to have a mini-breakdown, she wouldn’t do it in front of Brick Freaking Callan…who was most definitely staring at her right now. Shehatedbeing so stupidly aware of the man.
“You’re here.”
Remi nearly fell out of her chair before realizing that her sister had materialized next to the table.
“I thought I’d beat you here,” Kimber said, shrugging out of a hunter green parka. She wore an ivory hat over her hair that she’d loosely braided. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, but the winter wind had tinged her cheeks a delicate pink. She looked tired, pretty, and annoyed.
Remi comforted herself with the fact that it hadn’t been anything she’d done. At least not this time.
“I was on time for once,” she said as Kimber slipped into the chair across from her.
“Ladies.” Darius of the impeccable timing appeared with their drinks.
“My hero,” Kimber said, feigning a swoon.
“Damn. It is nice to see the Ford sisters reunited,” he said.
“It’s good to be in the same place,” Remi agreed.
Kimber’s response was cut off by her phone vibrating on the table. Remi caught a glimpse of Kyle’s name on the screen before her sister hit ignore and flipped the phone over.
“If you two need anything, wave me down. Specials are on the board,” Darius said, pointing at a chalkboard that looked like a third-grader had attacked it with chalk.
Neither man, it turned out, had the artistic talent for lettering. Their barely legible specials boards had become part of the lure of the place.
When he left, Remi sampled her All the Alcohol drink. It tasted like a tropical version of a Long Island iced tea. Delicious and deadly. “So, Darius was saying something about you getting migraines,” she began.
Kimber rolled her eyes. “What about them?”
She was out of sync, like she was dancing just off the beat and couldn’t quite catch up with her sister’s metronome. They’d always been a little out of step, but when they were growing up, Kimber had made an effort to help her catch up.
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling awkward. “I guess, when did they start?”
“They started about two years ago, and they’re triggered by stress, which apparently a boring stay at home mother finds in monotonous household chores and the daily ins and outs of raising human beings. Do you like it when people ask you about your asthma all the time?” Kimber asked pointedly, picking up her vodka and soda.
“Uh. No?” Remi stirred her drink and wished she had stayed at the cottage and suffered through her own company.
“And before you ask me about the kids, let’s talk about how even though she may not look it, a woman can be more than the people she brings into this world.”
Remi peered at her sister over the rim of her glass. “Okay. What’s a safe topic that isn’t going to get my head bitten off?”
Kimber let out a small puff of breath. “Sorry,” she said. “Things are…whatever. I don’t feel like talking about them.”
Her sister’s phone buzzed again. She didn’t look at it.
“You could tell me how great your life is,” Kimber suggested. “But then I’d probably resent you. Then I’d drink too much to compensate. And things would get ugly.”
Remi had never seen her sister hanging by a thread before. Kimber had been born responsible.
Every Friday, she’d marched home to finish up her homework for the weekend. She had tabbed binders with procedures for things like Christmas and meal prep and entertaining. She had planned every detail of her wedding down to packing a day-of emergency kit with stain remover, bandages, breath mints, and safety pins.
Remi, the maid of honor, had ended up needing both the stain remover and the bandages.
Well, hell.It was just another example of Remington Ford being incapable of taking care of herself or others.
“My life is…whatever also. I don’t really want to talk about it,” she said finally.
