by Teri Blake
Aryn stood and flattened her lips in a dramatic scowl. “You were always the one fighting to get us back together. You were always the one angry that Karla had married and abandoned us. What happened to you?”
The rhetorical question sent many answers rapid-firing in her head and fighting to get out, but she only allowed herself to say one. “Putting my sisters first got me nothing but hurt. Why would I opt to do it again?”
Aryn’s mouth fell open yet again and she stood there for a moment, taking in the statement. Aryn had never hurt her. She’d always been the sister Channyon could count on to pull Sonica along. She could feel that connection sever as Aryn turned and stomped away.
Chapter Two
The plates in the cupboard lay stacked so neatly that the same stripe that ran over the top of all of them lined up perfectly in the stack. Only Karla would do that. Channyon held in her desire to shift them all before she set the table.
Six plates, for four sisters and two children. Karla’s kids, Maisy and Davin, had returned from their father’s that day. They were tired from the long drive and cranky after Karla took their devices once they greeted everyone. She’d decided they could have them a few hours every evening and no more.
“Channyon, can you set an extra spot? Sawyer is coming over to eat with us.” Karla reached into the fridge and pulled out a huge bowl of salad mix, then grabbed a few bottles of dressing.
She didn’t care if Karla heard the distain in her voice. “Yay. Sawyer.” Yes, he’d done a lot for them, including purchasing the house they lived in, but he also held a lot over them because of that.
“Are you going to be rude while he’s here?” Karla didn’t seem to rush but also managed to be all over the kitchen getting things done.
“Are you going to send me to my room?” she tossed back.
The last few months had been hard. When she’d arrived, Channyon would have done anything for Karla. But as she got her legs back under her after Rob left, Karla had returned to her old ways of needing to be perfect. No one could last long under the expectation of perfection.
“Mom, seriously.” Maisy cocked a hip, looking much older than her fourteen years. “Aunt Channyon is allowed to talk. She lives here.”
Karla visibly tensed as she often did whenever Maisy spoke up for herself or anyone else. “Fine, but please don’t be rude while he’s here.”
Channyon laughed. “He knows how I feel about him. If I didn’t say something, he’d think I was really mad at him.” She slid another plate on the table and pointed to the closet for Maisy to get a chair.
As directed, she headed for the closet. Karla went around to each seat and turned the plates so they faced just perfectly the way she wanted them to. Then, she went around again and straightened every fork and knife.
“When did you start doing that again?” Channyon had been aware of her sister’s perfectionism over the last few weeks, but was Karla?
“Do what?” She shifted the center piece slightly closer to the center of the table.
“Set the table nicer than any five-star restaurant in town? Put dishes away so they all line up? Have you seen your linen closet? I want to go in there and refold all the fitted sheets just so it looks like someone lives here and not like Martha Stewart folds our laundry.”
Maisy burst out laughing but Karla looked mortified. “I…”
Her face fell as she scanned the table like she hadn’t even noticed what she’d been doing. Maybe she hadn’t. Guilt bit the back of Channyon’s throat and she swallowed it back. If she was going to leave, what did it matter?
Karla stuttered, “I’m in hospitality…”
“That’s an excuse. You know it. Your kids are home now, you don’t need to worry about them being a thousand miles away.” Though she suspected something else was causing this worry. Karla seemed to fall into the perfection habit when something was colossally wrong, even if she didn’t yet know what exactly was wrong. Like her marriage failing.
“I’m sure that’s what it was. Sorry.” Karla turned and headed back for the kitchen, her cheeks flush.
Maisy’s eyes drooped slightly. “There’s more than just that. Mom and I talked a lot last night before we left Arizona. She’s worried because the plans for the room addition on the house haven’t been delivered yet and the construction is supposed to start soon. And,” Maisy looked around to make sure no one was listening in, “this isn’t what’s been bothering her, unless Dad told her, which I doubt, but I found out Audrey is trying to have a baby. He doesn’t really seem to want one, but that’s not something he’ll talk to me about.”
Channyon gripped the chair in front of her for support. More babies. Unwanted by one of the parents. Why couldn’t she get pregnant? That baby would’ve been wanted and spoiled. Instead, she was going to suffer alone with no husband or child.
“I wouldn’t put it past your father to tell her. Just to rub salt in her wounds.” And she’d given Karla grief for her harmless coping mechanism. Why couldn’t she ever just mind her own business? She’d seemed unable to do so since something that had been only her business had been discussed behind her back.
“I’m not really feeling up to sitting through family sup—”
Channyon didn’t even finish her sentence before someone knocked on the door.
“That’ll be Sawyer.” Maisy jokingly shook her finger at Channyon. “Be on your best behavior now.”
Before Channyon could dash off up the stairs to hide, Maisy had the door open. Sawyer smiled and offered the teen a welcome-home hug. Surprisingly, Maisy hugged him right back.
“Good to see you home.” Sawyer let her go, then looked around for Davin.
“He’s still upstairs pouting because Mom took his phone away. I’m personally glad to have a good excuse not to answer texts. At Dad’s, that’s how they talk. They just text each other.” She rolled her eyes. “I’d be sitting right there and Audrey would text me instead of just looking over at me to talk.”
“Never thought I’d hear a teen say they were sick of their phone, but good for you,” Sawyer said.
“Thanks. Not good for Davin though. He got really used to it. He had a meltdown when Mom took it.” She rolled her eyes.
Channyon held in her own commentary because Maisy had whined her fair share too. The relationship between Sawyer and Maisy seemed interesting, as if she wanted him to respect her, so she wanted to sound better or perhaps older than she was.
Karla brought in a huge roasted turkey like it was Thanksgiving and set it artfully on the table, complete with sprigs of rosemary lining the edge. “Sawyer!”
As soon as her hands were free she went over and hugged him. The embrace left Channyon feeling cold and not part of the group. Luckily, she hadn’t been married in South Carolina, where there was a waiting period on divorces. She could call up her lawyer husband and tell him she wanted one. Except, she never really got that far. She couldn’t see an end to being separated, not by finally divorcing, nor by getting back together. Her husband probably wouldn’t want to try a relationship again even if she did.
“I’m feeling a little too…” Why couldn’t she finish the sentence?
“Everything okay, Channyon?” Sawyer set a large leather soft-sided briefcase on the floor then focused on her. Inside the briefcase, a large rolled up document stuck out of the top.
Becker had drawn up the plans for them as a way to be involved. He was supposed to be sending them over and those had to be it. Her stomach fell. If the plans had arrived, he’d be back there soon.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She always was and would be again, if she could just find a way to get back to where she had been a year before. Centered and happy. “Those are the plans, aren’t they.” She nodded toward the case.
“Yes.” He didn’t bother looking away.
“So, you’ve been talking to him.” She didn’t need to explain who him was. Sawyer would know.
“Yes. The project took longer than he thought becaus
e he has a few clients who needed more from him than he expected. I’ve looked over the plans and they’re good. The house won’t feel like a hotel. He really took Karla’s feelings into account. I wasn’t expecting much because a lawyer is no architect, but he did a great job.”
Channyon didn’t doubt it. Becker had a fascination with Victorian homes and probably used that influence, even though the Tidewater wasn’t from that era. He collected books with floor plans in them and guides that explained how people lived then. She was never much into anything historical, but she did go with him to museums when they traveled so he could see his passion up close.
Other than Becker, she’d never found a passion like that. Her sisters might be the only exception, but it wasn’t like she could research them or keep books about them. Nothing else in life had kept her interest that long.
“And did he say when or if he was coming back?” Hopefully never and she could move on with her life.
“He didn’t give an exact date, but he wants to see the construction through to the end. Since he did bring the money to pay for it.”
Channyon clenched her teeth until they hurt and she had to release them. “No, he brought my money to me and I gave it to Karla for her inn. He should have nothing to do with this.”
“But he does.” Karla appeared again with a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes, a melty bright yellow pool of butter formed in the depression on top. “And he will because I gave permission.”
This was another place where Karla stepped in where she shouldn’t. Why did Aryn blame Channyon for walking away when Karla was practically pushing her out? She shouldn’t have to deal with her husband being there. He was supposed to stay far away.
“While he’s here, I’m going on vacation. I won’t be needed because the inn will be closed anyway.” She’d live out of her truck and just buy gas and food. Living had been hard before, she could do it again.
Sawyer eyed her, but said nothing. Sonica appeared at the base of the stairs and strode slowly to her chair.
“I see I’m the topic of conversation again without my name ever being mentioned.” Her cheeks bloomed pink. “I would think everyone would’ve understood by now. This has been rehashed so many times.”
Channyon couldn’t hold back her already enflamed nerves. “Oh, sorry I didn’t immediately invite you to my campfire to sing Kumbaya. There are actual problems here.”
Davin strode in next and yanked his seat out, then flopped down into it. Belatedly, he noticed Sawyer. “Oh, hey man,” he mumbled.
The tension in Karla’s voice made it pitch higher than normal. “Well, why don’t we all just sit and eat?”
That was the last thing Channyon wanted to do, especially knowing it was at a meal just like this that Becker had arrived the first time. She backed away a step and opened her mouth to make her excuses.
“Channyon, just sit and enjoy the meal.” Aryn glared at her. “We’ll need to have a beach chat tonight.”
Sawyer glanced around the table but was smart enough to keep any advice to himself, though he did give Karla an extra-long glance and she seemed to answer him without saying a word.
“Fine.” Channyon yanked out her seat and sat much like Davin just had. She immediately felt stupid for doing it. Control your emotions. They hadn’t been so beyond her since she was a teen and everyone seemed against her. But then it had been her and her sisters against the world.
Now, it was the world against her.
Talk around the table went on without her and that was just fine. At least she sat where there was a good view of the front door, though the whole house was like one wide, open box. Nothing was hidden from view except the stairwell near the front door which was centered on the house. If Becker came, she’d be one of the first to see him.
Her heart did a strange jump. But was that stress or desire?
Words from around the table penetrated her thoughts. “I hate that we only have a few days until we go back to school,” Maisy said.
“And four months until we have to see Dad again.”
“I know it’s hard, Davin,” Sawyer answered before Karla, which seemed to surprise everyone at the table. “But at least your mom is trying for 50/50 custody. She wants you to see your dad.”
Davin nodded and picked up his fork. “I guess so but...” He glanced around the table, lingering on his mother. “Never mind.”
No one except his kids wanted Rob anywhere nearby. He was fine when he was far away in Arizona. The selfishness of that hit her. Was she looking at her own situation the same way? Was it selfish to want Becker far away because it suited her? He’d obviously helped Sawyer by acting as architect so they didn’t have to hire one. He’d made a good impression on Karla, enough to accept his help.
Was she the problem in all this? And if so, didn’t that make her issues even worse? She couldn’t just let go of all the pain he’d caused. In the wrong or not, she needed to work through all that had happened.
Could someone be both really great and awful…all at once?
Chapter Three
Karla followed her sisters to her little stretch of beach. With summer coming to a close the following week, the Tidewater Inn was booked solid all through Labor Day. But after dark the family who had rented it didn’t use the spot. Now was a good time to have that talk Aryn had insisted on.
No one said a word as they set beach chairs in a circle, facing each other. They didn’t have a whole lot of privacy as people wandered by, taking walks by the water’s edge and letting the waves lap at their feet. But the beach was far enough away from the house that no one they knew could hear them.
How relaxing, Karla thought as she watched the strangers. Maybe she could try that later. Her shoulders had been tight for hours. Ever since Channyon had made the offhand comment about her perfectionism returning, she’d been trying to think what could make that safety net return.
She’d thought she’d beaten that habit when she’d realized that very thing had probably been the tipping factor that drove Rob away. There were a lot of things for her to be stressed over: her kids coming back, the fact that she’d only been able to have two solid months of rental income before she’d have to close the inn for construction, constant worry that she might step over the line with Sawyer, and Channyon’s increasing depression.
Each thing alone wasn’t enough to weigh her down, but as a whole, they were crippling. Then, finding out Rob might have more kids… She’d ducked into the bathroom after Maisy had hung up with her the night before and she’d cried. Long, hard tears.
Rob had said enough was enough after Davin. Two was plenty. She’d wanted a big family, since she’d come from one, but he’d told her two was Americana perfect. One of each. Not that she was too old to have more, though it would be weird for Davin and Maisy. She was getting there though. Within five years, she’d be of advanced maternal age. Some days, she already felt old.
“Okay, so we’re all here.” Aryn glanced around the circle. “Might as well get this out right from the start. Channyon wants to leave.”
All the sisters turned to Channyon. They’d promised to stay together two months before, but this revelation wasn’t a surprise. Probably not to Sonica especially.
“When?” Sonica asked. This was the first time she’d ever said anything that sounded like she was ready to see Channyon go. Though the darkness made seeing faces difficult, Channyon’s wide eyes were easy to see.
“You were the last person I thought who would welcome my leaving. I guess I’m as good as gone.”
“No.” Aryn shook her head. “I’m not going to okay this.”
“Why are you always the hold-out?” Sonica leaned forward and stared at Aryn. “She wants to go. Let her. Whenever something needs to be said or done, you’re always the one who isn’t in agreement.”
Aryn gripped the arms of the chair. “But this is wrong. Channyon is stronger and better than this. She should face Becker and get this resolved, not run.”
Karla kept her mouth shut. With her sudden need for perfection, and the fact that she hadn’t even noticed it until Channyon pointed it out, she didn’t want to say anything that would throw flames on an already hot fire.
“I’m not running.” Channyon crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat.
“You absolutely are,” Sonica and Aryn answered at once.
“I just don’t want to talk to him. In fact, I’ve decided I want a divorce.”
That was news. She’d talked of running and of keeping away, but Karla had never heard her mention a divorce. “Who do you think would do it?”
Channyon was married to a well-respected lawyer. There wouldn’t be many of his colleagues who would volunteer.
“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far yet.”
Karla snorted. In Channyon-speak, that meant she’d barely considered that plan at all. A breeze blew in off the ocean leaving her with a chill. She’d never seen Channyon and Becker together when they were getting along since Channyon had hidden her marriage. But the chemistry between them even when Channyon had only been angry, was palpable.
Chemistry didn’t make them right for each other, but it helped. Shoving two people together who had to work on themselves yet, was a recipe for disaster and Karla knew more than she thought she ever wanted to about both recipes and disastrous marriages.
“What do you need to hear from Sonica for you to absolve her of all this so you can cut this nonsense?” Aryn said.
That seemed to be the first step. If Channyon could point the finger where it belonged, then work on that one issue, maybe she could move past all of it. Even if that meant a divorce.
Sonica frowned and fidgeted with her fingernails. “I think I’ve said all I can say. I didn’t do anything with Becker besides listen and support him. I would never sleep with him and I never agreed to be a surrogate.” She shuddered. “I don’t even want a relationship, so being impregnated is not high on my to-do list.”
