The Moonglow Sisters Page 8

  Hurt her badly.

  Again, Shelley opened her mouth to say she was sorry but feared she’d just fuel Madison’s anger, so she kept her trap shut. She’d already blundered and punched a soft spot.

  “You do not understand what you’re talking about.” Madison’s voice quivered. “I am sorry you’re in a bind, but you have no call to weigh in on my life.”

  “And you have no call to weigh in on mine. You just bragged that you’re a hotshot TV personality, and you clearly have money falling out of your butt. What else could you want? So what that you don’t have a husband. No biggie. You’ll get one if you want one.”

  Madison blinked furiously. She clamped her lips so hard her chin trembled. “Stop talking right now or I won’t be able to keep my promise to Gia and Grammy and finish that stupid quilt.”

  “Yeah, well, me either.”

  Madison put her hands on her hips. So much for the minitruce. But Shelley had to try. If she didn’t, well, she had no idea what would happen to her.

  “In the spirit of putting our differences aside”—Shelley cleared her throat—“I thought it might be nice to throw Gia and Mike a bridal shower.”

  “What?”

  “A shower.”

  “That’s a bit premature.”

  “Why?”

  “We don’t know a thing about what’s going on.”

  Shelley frowned and scratched her head. “What thing are you talking about?”

  “Their engagement. Something doesn’t feel right. It’s rushed.”

  “God, you are so skeptical,” Shelley replied. “They’ve known each other for years. Friends turn into lovers all the time. All I’m saying is that a bridal shower would be a nice gesture.”

  “Like you could afford to throw a party.” Madison looked smug.

  Watching her sister, Shelley had a stunning moment of clarity and she understood the real reason she’d kissed Raoul. It hadn’t been to protect Madison from marrying a douchebag cheater as she’d convinced herself. It was because she’d wanted to knock Madison off her high horse.

  Was she that vindictive and petty?

  Yes, dear, yes you are.

  New shame blazed through her. That was why everyone had sided with Madison. Everyone except Gia, who’d refused to take sides.

  Shelley opened her mouth to tell her sister her revelation, thinking if she admitted her dark motive that Madison would soften and finally accept her apology.

  From out of nowhere, Pyewacket shot across the porch like a Flying Wallenda, leaping onto Madison’s side of the quilting frame and sending the opposite side of the wooden plank rocking up into Shelley’s shins.

  Wham!

  “Mother of blueberries!” Shelley yelped, and in her pain stumbled backward off the ladder and landed hard on her ass.

  Irony.

  That cold little bitch.

  Chapter Eight

  Gia

  TENSION: The balancing forces exerted on the needle and bobbin threads by the sewing machine that affect the quality of its stitch.

  GIA FOUND HER sisters on the back porch. Madison was dressed to the nines while Shelley looked like she’d just finished a kickboxing competition . . . and lost.

  “Shell, what happened to your legs?” Gia sucked in her breath through clenched teeth, sympathy curling tight against her chest.

  “Pyewacket.” Shelley shook her head. “Don’t ask.”

  “I tried to get her to put ice on it.” Madison held up a zippered plastic sandwich bag filled with melting ice cubes. “But she refused.”

  “I’m fine,” Shelley insisted.

  “You’re just being contrary.” Madison squeezed the ice pack in her fist.

  “And you’re trying to run the show, like always.”

  Madison looked hurt and pressed her lips together as if struggling to keep from making a smart comment. She tossed the ice pack onto the circular picnic table.

  “That cat is still a scamp in her old age—” Gia started to smooth things over, but for the first time noticed the frame. “Oh, my gosh, you guys set up the quilting frame!” Surprised and delighted, Gia clamped her hands over her mouth. “This is amazing. Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.” Madison efficiently dusted her palms together.

  “Where’s the quilt?” Gia glanced around for the triple wedding ring quilt.

  “Dry cleaners.” Shelley inclined her head toward Madison. “Maddie took it in. That’s why she’s so gussied up.”

  “Really?” Pressing a palm to her heart, Gia sighed, endorphins flooding her body with happiness.

  “Don’t look so shocked,” Madison said. “We promised to finish the quilt.”

  Gia rubbed her chin with the pad of her thumb. “I wasn’t sure you meant it.”

  Hope planted roots, sprouted, grew. Maybe this would work. Even if she had to create a fake engagement to make it happen. Gia toyed with the unaccustomed weight of Mike’s ring on her finger. They’d just picked it up from his safe-deposit box at his bank and she wasn’t used to the pressure of it yet.

  The ring fit perfectly. How coincidental was that?

  Mike, the optimist, had simply said, “It’s a sign that this story line is meant to be.”

  She wasn’t sure if by story line he meant the fake engagement or the two of them as a couple, and she was afraid to ask him to clarify, uncertain if she wanted his remark to signify the former or the latter.

  The porch steps creaked behind them and they all three turned simultaneously to see Mike wearing starched chinos and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The man had the sexiest forearms. He came over and slid one of those delectable arms around her waist, playing his part.

  It was unfamiliar, his proprietary touch, but it felt nice, too, and that freaked her right out. Settle down.

  “Ready to go to the hospital, Honeysuckle?” he asked.

  Honeysuckle? A sweet shiver ran through her. He’d traded in Short Stack for Honeysuckle? He’d already given her a romantic nickname? She had to hand it to him, when the man played a role, he Tom Hanksed the hell out of it.

  “You bet, Sugarplum,” she shot back, grinning.

  Madison raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re coming with?”

  Mike linked his arm through Gia’s, enveloping her in his sandalwood-and-basil scent. “Wherever Gia goeth, I goeth.”

  Madison rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Sounds codependent to me.”

  “Blow her off.” Shelley waved a dismissive hand at Madison. “You two are adorable as a couple.”

  “He’s almost family.” Gia leaned over to pat Mike’s taut abdomen the way she imagined a fiancée might do. But she was unprepared for the jolt of awareness that blasted through her fingers. Her eyes rounded, and she did her best not to look astounded.

  “Who’s driving?” Madison asked.

  “We can take my King Ranch, room for five,” Mike volunteered. “Is Darynda coming?”

  “I just came from the hospital.”

  Everyone turned to see Darynda climbing the steps, a large, brown paper H-E-B grocery bag in her arms.

  “How?” Madison asked. “The visiting hours aren’t until eight and it’s just now seven forty-five.”

  “I was the nursing supervisor’s high school English teacher.” Darynda looked pleased with herself. “I have pull.”

  “What’s with the groceries?” Shelley peeped into the bag.

  “Let me carry that for you.” Mike took the bag from Darynda.

  “I’m making lunch for you all,” Darynda said. “Mike, you’re included.”

  “Thank you.” He carried the groceries inside and they all followed.

  “That’s good that you included him,” Madison said. “Because apparently wherever Gia goeth, Mike goeth.”

  Darynda tilted her head to study Madison. “What?”

  “You didn’t know they were engaged?” Madison’s eyes narrowed as if she smelled a rat. “Grammy didn’t tell you?”

  “W-we .
. . hadn’t told Grammy yet,” Gia said. Oof! She was such a terrible liar.

  “Let’s see the ring.” Darynda held out her hand.

  Feeling like Pinocchio, Gia flashed the sparkler on her left hand. Mike had been modest. The one-carat diamond was impressive enough for anyone.

  “Nice.” Darynda smiled. “Good job, Mike.”

  “What are we having?” Shelley dug through the bag Mike settled onto the kitchen table.

  Silently, Gia blessed her sister for shifting the attention off the fake engagement.

  “Fried chicken, your grandmother’s recipe, mashed potatoes with real cream, and buttermilk biscuits,” Darynda said.

  “Omigod.” Shelley splayed a hand on her belly. “I’ve died and gone to heaven. I could kiss you so hard right now, Darynda.”

  “I thought you were vegan,” Gia said.

  Shelley flapped a hand. “That’s way over.”

  “When is the wedding?” Darynda’s gaze drifted from Mike to Gia and back again.

  “September,” Mike said.

  Gia gave him a bug-eyed stare. Don’t rush things. “Next September.”

  “Why September? Why not June?” Madison unpacked the groceries. “Shelley, go put on some decent clothes. Let’s get this show on the road before visiting hours end.”

  Shelley hesitated as if she might argue, but then she shrugged and left the room.

  Madison rolled her eyes again. “I swear, that woman—”

  “Don’t,” Gia said so sharply that Madison stopped with a carton of eggs in her hands.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Pick on her. She’s doing the best she can.” Gia said.

  Mike’s hand went to Gia’s neck, a gentle touch, a light massage, just letting her know that he was there, and that he had her back. It felt nice.

  “Well, so am I.” Madison’s tone was flat as flint.

  To smooth things over, Gia said, “Thank you for taking the quilt to the dry cleaners. I appreciate it.”

  Madison sighed and stowed the eggs in the fridge. “Okay, okay, I’ll lighten up on her. But just for you.”

  Gia beamed at her. “You’re the best.”

  Shelley came back downstairs in white cargo pants and a blue tank top that used to be Madison’s.

  Gia darted a quick glance at her oldest sister, who clamped her mouth shut. She pressed her palms together in front of her chest and mouthed, Thank you.

  Madison’s face softened and for a moment, Gia saw the woman her sister used to be before everything fell apart. Her heart squeezed, and she thought, It’s okay to lie about being engaged if it gets Madison back to herself.

  Justify it all you want. Still a lie.

  Yes, but she was hip-deep in it now. No going back.

  “Ladies”—Mike pulled a key fob from his pocket and started out the door—“your chariot awaits.”

  “I definitely see the appeal,” Shelley murmured under her breath to Gia. “Nice ass.”

  “Hey, hussy, stay in your own lane,” Madison grumbled, but in her voice, Gia heard a note of humor. Was Madison finally thawing?

  She pressed her palms into prayer hands again, and this time Gia whispered a single word.

  Please.

  * * *

  AT THE HOSPITAL, the neuro ICU nurse cornered them and gave a strict admonition. “Maximum two people at a time.”

  The sisters looked at each other.

  “You two go first,” Gia said. “Mike and I’ll wait.”

  Madison looked as if she might argue at being saddled with Shelley, but she just pivoted and started through the double doors without looking back, leaving Shelley to hustle after her.

  “You’ve got your work cut out for you,” Mike muttered.

  “Maddie seems tough, but you don’t understand her like I do. Her heart is so tender, she’s built up a tall wall. She can’t bear getting hurt again.”

  Mike reached over, took her hand. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Maddie isn’t the only one who lost her parents. You’ve been hurt too. Why didn’t you build a tall wall?”

  Gia shrugged. “I dunno.”

  “Well, tall wall or not, I’m here for you, Honeysuckle.”

  Unnerved, Gia eased her hand away from him, confused by the feelings his touch stirred. “You don’t have to pretend when we’re alone.”

  “I can’t comfort my friend?”

  “Is that what you were doing?”

  His eyes met hers. “It was.”

  “Oh, well, then.” She picked up his hand, and he held on tight.

  An hour later, Madison and Shelley returned to the waiting room. Shelley was pale and trembling, tears in her eyes. Madison’s mouth was set in a grim line. They looked so wrecked that Gia wasn’t sure she was ready for this.

  “It’s okay.” Mike read her thoughts. “I’m with you all the way.”

  * * *

  THE SIGHT OF her vibrant grammy looking so pale and lifeless in that bed, plugged into machines, her head swaddled in bandages, was almost too much to handle.

  Gia’s knees buckled underneath her and if Mike hadn’t been there to catch her before she hit the floor, she might well have cracked her head open.

  Mike guided her to a chair, fetched crackers and orange juice from the nurses’ station. Crouched in front of her while she ate them.

  “Are you feeling any better?” he asked when she finished.

  She nodded.

  “The color is back in your cheeks.”

  She offered him the best smile she could muster, which was pretty feeble. “Could you give me some time alone with her?”

  “Sure.” He nodded. “Whatever you need.”

  “Thanks.”

  After he left, she sat beside the bed unmoving, the crumpled cracker wrapper clutched in her hand.

  Grammy was the only mother she’d ever known. She didn’t remember her parents. Her earliest memory was of arriving on the steps of the Moonglow Inn, holding on to Maddie’s and Shelley’s hands as the CPS worker rang the doorbell, waiting to meet the grandmother they’d believed long dead.

  The grandmother who had quickly become their entire world.

  On her eighteenth birthday, Gia asked Grammy why their mother had told everyone that her mother was dead when she wasn’t.

  Staring out at the ocean with tear-filled eyes, Grammy had murmured, “It was a different time.”

  Gia wanted to ask what that meant but Grammy looked so sad, she’d let it go and vowed never to bring it up. When she’d asked her sisters about their theories, Madison said Grammy had given her a similar answer, and Shelley, the girl who preferred a superficial life, had said it was none of their business.

  Heartbroken now, she studied her grandmother’s slack features and saw nothing of the strong, vibrant woman she loved so fiercely. She reached for Grammy’s hand.

  Cold.

  Her skin was so cold. Interlacing her fingers through her grandmother’s, she slid their joined hands underneath the covers to warm her.

  “Grammy,” she whispered. “It’s me, Gia.”

  Was it her imagination or did Grammy’s eyelashes flutter? Hope lent her heart wings. Maybe, maybe she would pull through.

  “Madison and Shelley came home. I let them read the letter you left me. Madison didn’t want to finish the quilt. She’s still so mad at Shelley that she doused the quilt with lighter fluid and tried to burn it. You should have seen her. She looked crazed. Not the family reunion I bet you were hoping for.”

  Gia glanced over her shoulder, making sure she was still alone in the room, and lowered her voice. “But I got Madison to agree to stay and finish the quilt. Unfortunately, I had to tell a whopper to make that happen.” She confessed to her comatose grandmother about the fake engagement to Mike Straus. “He was really sweet about it. I don’t think many guys would have agreed to play along. Mike even loaned me an engagement ring. He was almost engaged once. Did you know about that?”

 
; A soft knock sounded at the doorway and she turned to see Dr. Hollingway enter the room.

  Gia got up.

  “Please, sit.” The woman pressed a palm downward. Her face was grim.

  But Gia didn’t sit. Sitting felt like a disadvantage. Her stomach rolled, and her pulse slowed. The tips of her fingers turned icy and a sour taste filled her mouth. She wanted to plaster her palms against her ears, and hum, tra-la-la. Or dig out her cell phone and escape into Candy Crush.

  Fighting her fear of unpleasantness, she popped on a bright smile. “How is she this morning? I thought I saw her eyelids flutter. After you stop the medication that’s putting her in a coma, I think she’ll be just fine.”

  The doctor shook her head. “Miss Clark, I—”

  “Let me go get my sisters.”

  “I’m in a hurry. Can I just tell you what’s been happening and let you relay the information to your family?”

  Um, no. She needed her family. Madison should handle this. She moistened her lips. “Let me just—”

  “We’ve already withdrawn the drugs we administered to keep her comatose.”

  Gia blinked and glanced from the doctor to Grammy lying lifeless in the bed. “What does that mean?”

  “It’s no longer a medically induced coma. She didn’t regain consciousness when we took the drugs away.”

  Her breathing jacked from the slow lane to autobahn fast. Each breath slammed into the next with no space in between. She sat down in a hard chair, pulled her knees to her chest, clasped her arms around her knees, and swayed to and fro to calm herself.

  “I know this is distressing news,” Dr. Hollingway said. “But don’t give up hope. This happens sometimes. It doesn’t mean she won’t eventually wake up.”

  Where was Madison? This was too much for Gia. “Wait, what . . .” She was having trouble pushing words through her constricted throat. “What does this mean?”

  “We’re here for the long haul. I suggest you and your family pace yourselves. Set up a schedule to take turns being with her. Get plenty of rest.”

  “Okay.”

  “Any other questions?”

  She couldn’t think. Her mind blanked. Numbly, she shook her head.

  Dr. Hollingway stuffed her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “We’ll get you through this.”