“It’s good to set those boundaries with Cassie.”

“My thought, too. What I don’t think Cassie realized … well, actually, I failed to tell her. One of those months had already passed. In fact, five of the eight weeks are gone.”

“Let her know, then. If she really wants it, she’ll find a way to get over to Spokane.”

“It’s only fair that I tell her she has less than three weeks to collect the furniture.”

“Or pay the storage fee herself.”

“Should I send the email?” Karen asked.

“I don’t know why you’re hesitating.” Nichole felt her sister was already being more than generous. It wasn’t like there was anything left that was of any real value, other than maybe the piano.

Her pedicure had been finished by then, but she was so wrapped up in the conversation, she barely noticed. She said good-bye and dropped the cell back inside her purse.

Laurie glanced over at her. “That was intense. I didn’t know you had another sister.”

“I don’t, not really. Cassie ran away from home when I was fourteen; it was like she disappeared for all these years. Now she’s divorced and wants back into the family as if nothing happened. It’s been weird, you know. She reached out to us once and it was all so awkward and uncomfortable. We didn’t have anything to say to one another. I haven’t heard from her since.”

“Have you contacted her?”

“I tried. I mailed her a Christmas card, which was returned with no forwarding address. Apparently, my sister moves around a lot.”

Nichole was tense and uptight, although she tried hard to relax. “I could use a fruity drink. How about you?”

“Should we?” Laurie asked guiltily.

“We should. It’ll wear off before we head home.”

Laurie was game. They went into the hotel attached to the shopping mall and let a cool mojito work its magic. When they finished, they returned to Nordstrom.

On the way into the department store, Nichole passed the purses on display and stopped cold. She grabbed Laurie’s sleeve.

“Laurie, do you see what I see?”

Her friend stared in the same direction as Nichole and then shook her head. “What?”

“That Michael Kors bag,” Nichole whispered, as if she were speaking in church.

“Nichole, they’re hundreds and hundreds of dollars.”

“I know. I know. It’s the alcohol talking. I’d be nuts to even consider buying it.”

“Then you’d better stop looking at it.” Laurie wrapped her arm around Nichole’s elbow and said, “Turn your head this way and pretend you didn’t see it.”

“I can’t not look,” Nichole said in a breathy voice. “I would so love to own that bag. Go and check the price and then come tell me.”

“You sure?” Laurie sounded skeptical.

“I think so.” Nichole’s head was spinning and her stomach was in turmoil.

“Call Jake,” Laurie advised.

“You think I should?”

“Yes. He’ll tell you you’re out of your mind, and then buy it for you himself on your anniversary.”

“Good idea.” Nichole reached inside her purse for her phone.

Laurie walked over to the purse on display. A sales clerk was immediately there to assist her. She asked the price, nodded, and then turned back to Nichole and held up seven fingers.

“It’s seven hundred dollars,” Nichole told Jake, who was on the other end of the line.

“Seven hundred dollars for a purse?” Jake repeated, sounding shocked.

Nichole knew the price was above and beyond anything she should consider spending. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“Oh honey, that’s a lot of money.”

“I know. You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”

Jake hesitated and then said, “All right, baby, buy it. You’re the most amazing woman in the world and you deserve beautiful things. We’ll find a way to pay for it.”

“You don’t mean it.” Nichole was nearly speechless.

“Do it, honey. You buy yourself that purse.”

That was all the incentive Nichole needed.

Chapter 8

Saturday night, Cassie turned off the light on her nightstand early. She was exhausted. She’d worked at the salon all week and then gone to the construction site and put in extra hours. It remained light until nearly eight, which helped. For most of the time, Cassie managed to keep out of Steve’s way. He seemed to be preoccupied with the business at hand, which was just as well. Either that or he chose to simply ignore her.

After a hectic week, Sunday wasn’t going to be a day of rest, but Cassie wasn’t complaining. She was thrilled to have gotten work with the caterer for the Sounders soccer match.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey, what is it?” Going to sleep early didn’t seem likely if Amiee was in a chatty mood. Her daughter’s shadow filled the doorway leading to Cassie’s small bedroom.

Amiee sighed. “What was it like when you were my age?”

Cassie sat up enough to lean on her elbow. Ever since she’d gotten the letter from her older sister, Amiee had besieged her with questions about the two aunts she’d yet to meet.

“How do you mean?” she asked. “I can tell you right now we didn’t have cell phones.”

“I know that. What I want to know is what’s it like having sisters. Did you share clothes?”

The memories wrapped themselves around Cassie like curling ribbon atop a birthday gift. “All the time,” Cassie whispered into the dark.

“Did you ever do stuff like date the same boys?”

“Never. Dad wouldn’t hear of it. Karen and I were the closest in age. She’s two years older.”

“Your dad used to take you fishing, didn’t he?”

Cassie could only wonder how her daughter found that out. “How’d you know about that?”

Amiee went silent. “You wanted to take me fishing once and Dad wouldn’t let you. You tried to explain that your dad took you fishing and Dad got really upset with you, remember? He said you were putting him down and … and he hit you.”

Cassie swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Yes, I remember,” she whispered. Trying to divert the conversation, she lightened her voice and said, “My dad took the family fishing quite a bit when I was young. We’d catch the fish, clean them, and cook them up for dinner over the campfire. Those are some of my best childhood memories.”

Amiee stepped into the room and Cassie tossed aside her covers, inviting her daughter to climb into bed with her. All too soon Amiee’s cold feet were tucked against her much warmer ones.

“Tell me some stories of when you were my age.”

“Let me think,” Cassie whispered, wrapping her arm around her daughter’s thin shoulders. She’d been raised in a loving home. Her mother had been a homemaker until Nichole was old enough for school and then she’d gone to work in the school cafeteria. That way she was home in the summers with her daughters. Her mother was far less outgoing than their father, who made everything fun. Cassie hated that her last conversation with her father had been an argument. From the onset he hadn’t liked Duke, and he’d done everything within his power as her father to keep the two of them apart. Sadly, his demands had exactly the opposite effect. Cassie was convinced she was in love and Duke encouraged her to meet him on the sly, which she’d done.

“Tell me about camping,” Amiee urged, snuggling closer.

Talking about happier times in her childhood was certainly preferable to delving into painful memories. “Dad bought a big tent the year I turned ten,” Cassie told her, pressing her head down on the pillow close to her daughter. She lowered her voice, hoping that it would lull Amiee to sleep. “I helped Dad set it up while Mom and Karen and Nichole unloaded everything from the station wagon. Mom had a folding table and a cookstove and a cooler filled with enough food for three days.” It’d been a privilege to be asked to help her father, and they’d gotten the tent set up in record time.