Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I dressed in jeans and a sweater, blow-dried my hair, braided it, and put on minimal makeup. Before I left, I checked my messages, since it was Maren’s turn to pick the place and my phone had died last night before she’d texted the spot. Sure enough, there was a message from her saying Rose’s at 11, see you there, which made me happy because I loved the little diner on East Jefferson. Best pancakes ever.
I had a few other messages—one from Coco asking if I’d have lunch with her and Mia tomorrow, which was normally my day off, and one from my cousin Mia, telling me she would be in town this week and wanted to see me. Ignoring the tug of disappointment I felt that Nate hadn’t texted to tell me how the night had gone, I resisted the urge to message him and ask. I responded to Coco, saying yes, of course, and asked where and when I should meet them, and texted Mia back that I’d see her tomorrow, adding a bunch of smiley faces. It would be good to see her—it had been a few months, and spending time with her always inspired me. She had everything: adoring husband, three beautiful children, a gorgeous home, a successful business. We shared blood, so I figured if she could accomplish all that by age thirty-six, there was still hope for me.
I drove to Rose’s, parked in the lot next to the small freestanding building, and hurried inside through the drizzle. The diner was crowded, as usual, but my sisters were already there and had a table. I made my way to the back of the restaurant and shrugged out of my coat before taking the seat next to Maren and across from Stella. “Hi. Sorry I’m a little late. I worked out this morning.” Statements like these always made me feel like a better person.
“You did?” Maren sounded more surprised than I thought was necessary. “Where?”
“At home. I used the yoga mat you got me for Christmas.”
She beamed, her face radiant. If there were anything that could convince me to eat, drink, and live cleaner, it would be Maren’s skin. She was always radiant. I was constantly asking her what she used on her skin to make it so bright, and she always claimed it was plain old coconut oil. Stella and I were convinced she had to be lying, although she is the worst liar in the world and wouldn’t have spent the money on expensive skincare or cosmetics anyway. Stella and I, on the other hand, were product junkies, and could happily blow a hundred bucks at Ulta with no regrets.
“I’m so glad you’re using it,” she said. “I was afraid it would sit neglected at the back of your closet.”
I didn’t tell her that’s exactly where it had been before I’d dug it out. “It was very useful. Thanks.” Before she could ask me about what I’d done, I addressed Stella. “Did you run this morning?”
She nodded. The most athletic of the three of us, she wore a track jacket and her hair pulled back. “Yep.”
“In this awful weather?” Maren asked, gesturing toward the windows.
Stella shrugged and picked up her coffee. “You get used to it. It’s not bad if you’re dressed right.”
Her answer didn’t surprise me. Not only was our older sister a total creature of habit, she actually enjoyed running enough to do it in the rain, if you can believe that. She ran marathons in cities all over the country. I thought running was repetitive and miserable even in beautiful weather, so her dedication made little sense to me.
The waitress came by, and I asked for some coffee. A moment, later, she came back with my cup and we put in our orders—eggs and veggies for Stella, granola and fruit for Maren, pancakes and bacon for me.
“So how are you, Em?” Maren inquired, lifting her cup of tea to her lips. “When I talked to you on Friday, you were pretty upset.”
For a moment, I couldn’t even think of what she meant, and then I remembered the wedding invitation. It seemed like ages ago! Had I really cared so much I nearly set my apartment on fire?
“About what?” Stella asked.
“Stupid Richard and Lucy invited me to their wedding,” I said.
Her eyes widened. “Seriously? Are you going to go?”
“No. Do you think I’m crazy?”
Neither of my sisters answered that.
“I wouldn’t go either,” Maren said. “I don’t blame you for being upset.”
I sipped my coffee. “I’m not even that upset about it anymore. I don’t know why it had me so riled up.”
“Bad day?” Stella suggested.
“Not really.”
“Jealousy?”
I snorted. “I don’t care about that asshole anymore. She can have him. Those two deserve each other. I think it was more the idea that they assumed I’d want to attend their stupid wedding after what they did.”