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Tara shook her head and pulled Chloe off the couch. “Kitchen. The dust in here will kill you, sugar.”

Maddie followed her two sisters, musing on the odd dynamic between them. Tara clearly cared while pretending not to. Chloe soaked up that caring like a love-starved child, while also pretending not to. As for Maddie, she had no idea where she fit in, or even if she could.

A loose shutter slapped against the side of the house and made her jump. The lights flickered off and then, after a long hesitation, back on again.

The three of them grabbed each other’s hands and eyed the kitchen. It looked like the one in the inn, minus the table and many square feet. They sat hip to hip on the Formica counter. Tara poured the wine, handing a glass to Maddie, then poured one for herself.

“Hello,” Chloe said, holding out her hand for a glass. “What am I, chopped liver?”

“Too young,” Tara said.

“I’m past legal by three years!”

“Do you need a bra to keep your boobs from falling?” Tara asked. “Do you need a pair of Spanx to keep the tire hidden?”

“Tire?”

“Yes, the tire, the spare tire around the middle that doesn’t go away in spite of a rigorous workout regime.” Tara gestured to her stomach, which in Maddie’s opinion looked damn fine. She’d like to have a “tire” like that.

And probably she could, if she gave up chips.

“Do you get hot flashes that keep you up at night? Then you’re not old enough to drink.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and snatched a glass for herself anyway. “You know, you have some serious anger issues. And resentment issues. And holier-than-thou issues.”

Maddie braced for the yelling. “Listen-”

Excuse me?” Tara tossed back her wine and poured another, topping off Maddie while she was at it as she whirled on Chloe. “Holier than thou?”

“If the shoe fits,” Chloe said. “Sugar.

“Never mind, Miss Perky Boobs. I’ll talk to you when you’re sober.”

“And I’ll talk to you when you’re not a bitch.”

“Yeah, well, that might be a while,” Tara said.

Chloe shook her head. “And for the record, you’re thirty-four, Tara, not seventy-two.”

Maddie snatched the wine bottle, because it was going to be that kind of a night.

“And another thing,” Chloe said, taking the bottle from Maddie. “Maddie’s boobs are just as perky as mine.”

Everyone looked at Maddie’s breasts. They were full C’s, and the only reason they were anywhere even close to perky was thanks to her clearance sale push-up bra. She blew out a breath and looked at her empty wineglass. “I should stop now. Beer and wine don’t mix well.”

Tara looked at her empty glass, then over at the garbage can, confused. “How did I miss the beer?”

“She drank with Hot Guy,” Chloe said.

“Hey.” Maddie tried to find the indignation but had some trouble working around the alcohol. “He has a name.”

“What is it?” Tara wanted to know.

“It’s a really, really, really good name.”

“Can you even remember it?” Tara asked wryly. “Or did he suck your memory out along with your tongue?”

No, but he’d sure had a nice tongue. “His name’s Jax. Jax Cullen.”

Tara choked on her wine.

“Know him?” Maddie asked.

Tara set her glass aside and tipped the bottle to her mouth, taking a long time to answer. “How would I know him?” She dabbed delicately at the corners of her mouth. “And what do you see in this guy anyway?”

Chloe held up her hands about ten inches apart.

At that, it was Maddie’s turn to choke. “I didn’t sleep with him! I gave up men,” she added much more weakly. “And anyway, penises that size don’t really exist.”

“Then why did you come in grinning?”

Maddie sighed. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a tattletale?”

“Always has been,” Tara said. “Once when I was fifteen and sneaking out the back door, Chloe told Mom on me. I was grounded for the rest of the summer.”

Chloe grinned. “Good times.”

Maddie had lived with Phoebe only until she’d gotten pregnant with Chloe. After that, Maddie’s father had taken custody. Maddie had visited during vacations or whenever her father couldn’t have her with him at work, but it hadn’t been often. As a result, she had only sparse memories of her sisters. But Tara had spent most summers with Phoebe and Chloe.

“Where were we that summer?” Chloe asked Tara. “Northern California somewhere, right? In that trailer Mom rented on some river with friends?”

Tara nodded. “Sounds about right.”

“You wouldn’t take me with you wherever you were sneaking off to. That’s why I told on you.”

“You were a baby!”

“I was five. And I wanted to be fifteen like you.”

And Maddie wanted memories with them.

Tara sighed and leaned back. “I completely wasted fifteen. Youth is wasted on the young.”

Chloe snorted.

“I’m not kidding!” Tara said. “If I was fifteen again, I’d definitely know what to do with it now.”

“Really,” Chloe said with disbelief heavy in her voice.

Really.

Outside, the wind battered the windows, the storm in full swing. They all paused and glanced uneasily out into the dark night. “I hated being fifteen,” Maddie said quietly, feeling the wine. “The doubts, the lack of confidence, the despair.” And damn if much had changed. She sighed and held out her glass for more wine. Tara obligingly topped her off again.

“If you’re having what-ifs,” Chloe said, “you’re still wasting life.”

“Not me.” Maddie shook her head. “I’m not wasting anything, not ever again. I’m on a new life’s lease. I’m starting over.” She emphasized this with a wild swing of her glass. Wine splashed out over her hand, and she licked it off. “No more letting anyone speak for me, roll over me, step on me, slap me…”

The shattering silence that followed this statement sobered her up a little. “See, this,” she said. “This is why I shouldn’t drink.” Ignoring the startled look exchanged between her sisters, she held out her glass. She definitely needed a refill.

But Tara gently took it away. “Somebody hit you?” she asked softly.

“Slapped.” Big difference. A slap was humiliating and hurtful, but it wasn’t like he’d punched her. Or caused her real harm. Well, except for that last time, when the corner of a cabinet had broken her fall, requiring stitches just outside of her eye. But hey, she was single now. All was good. Or as good as it could be.

“Maddie-”

“It’s over and done.” She dropped her head and studied her shoes. Sneakers, scuffed and battered. That had to be symbolic somehow, she thought unhappily.

Chloe was wearing cute ankle boots, not a scratch on them.

Tara was wearing stylish heels, so shiny they could have been used as a mirror.

“I need new shoes,” she said out loud.

Chloe reached out and squeezed her hand. “New shoes rock,” she whispered, sounding like her throat was too tight.

Maddie squeezed her fingers back while her wine-soaked thoughts rambled in her head, not quite readily available for download. “Oh! I forgot to show you guys something.” She pulled the recipe box from her bag and told them about Lucille. She flipped through for a random card. “Bad decisions make good stories,” she read.

“Lord,” Tara said.

“Not ‘bless her heart’?” Chloe asked, grinning until a gust of wind hit so hard that the entire house shuddered.

This was followed by a thundering BOOM. The ground shook, the lights flickered, and all three of them jumped.