“I love you.”
Her throat tightened as her heart spilled over with emotion. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d said the words. It had been years. Too many years.
“I love you, too, Colin. I’m sorry I got so twisted around with everything.”
He shook his head, then kissed her. “No blame. We both got lost. Now we’ve found our way back.”
“I’m never letting go.”
“Me, either.” He stood and put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on. We’ll go wake the girls together.”
Epilogue
ANDI SAT WITH tissue woven between her toes and her hands carefully splayed. “I’m not good with nail polish,” she murmured, terrified she was going to ruin her manicure.
Her mother was next to her, in the same position, but slightly more relaxed. “The polish dries in layers. The key is to avoid being fooled by a seemingly set surface.”
Boston, who had gone for a buffed shine, slid her feet into her shoes and grinned. “Layers, Leanne? Like in cake?”
“Exactly like cake, dear.”
Andi instinctively braced herself, wanting to come between her mother and her friend, then had to remind herself that things were different now.
Oh, sure, she still regularly received applications to fellowships and updates on her siblings’ successes, but ever since she’d announced her engagement to Wade, her parents seemed to have mellowed a little. She was pretty sure her lecture about backing off had helped some. The other game changer had been Carrie.
Wade’s daughter had met Andi’s parents over Labor Day when the five of them had spent time together in Seattle. The preteen had been delighted to have stepgrandparents-to-be. Leanne had treated Carrie to a day of shopping at the downtown Nordstrom, and both the older Gordons had escorted her to a Mariners game.
By the end of the long weekend, they’d announced they adored the girl and couldn’t wait to spend more time with her. Carrie had shared the love, and a new, slightly odd detente had been born.
Shrieks of laughter drew Andi back to the present. As part of her bachelorette afternoon and evening, they’d taken over a nail salon. Boston, Deanna and her girls had joined Andi, Carrie and Leanne for mani-pedis. Once they were all beautiful, they would return to Deanna’s house for pizza and movies.
Deanna passed the bottle of champagne they’d brought with them. “You’re still on your first glass, Andi. It’s not a bachelorette party if you don’t at least try to get drunk.”
“It’s three in the afternoon.”
“Chicken.”
“Your children are present.”
“I’ve seen you drunk. You’re still perfectly well mannered. It’s not as if I was going to tell them what was going on. Besides, we’re walking home.”
“You should at least have a second glass,” Leanne said, holding out her daughter’s glass for a refill. Deanna obliged.
“You’re all freaks,” Andi muttered, but she took a sip.
Leanne excused herself to go sit by the twins. Boston took her seat and glanced around. She leaned toward Andi and motioned for Deanna to do the same, then lowered her voice.
“I have something to tell you.”
Andi looked at Deanna and grinned.
They’d already guessed the secret. In the past couple of months Boston had sworn off alcohol and caffeine. A few weeks ago, she’d started to glow.
“Spill,” Deanna said.
“I’m pregnant. About four weeks along.” Boston kept her voice low. “Zeke and I didn’t want to say anything until after the wedding, but I knew I had to tell the two of you.”
“Congratulations,” Andi said, hugging her while still keeping her fingers splayed. “That’s wonderful.”
Deanna hugged her next and sighed. “I’m so happy. More kids on the block. It’s great.” She turned to Andi. “How long until you start trying?”
Andi nearly choked. “Hey, not even married yet. Give me a break.”
“You want kids and Wade does, too. You’re not getting any younger.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Deanna grinned. “You’re welcome.”
They leaned back in their chairs and watched as the girls finished their mani-pedis. Madison and Carrie giggled together. The other four laughed. Leanne helped the twins pick out a vivid pink for their nails.
Tomorrow Andi would marry Wade at the Blackberry Island Inn. They would take off for two weeks in Hawaii before returning home. Then Wade and Carrie would move into the house on the hill. A house she’d bought impulsively, with the idea that if she could fix the house, she could fix herself. From that day to this she had figured out how to let go of the past, she’d fallen in love, learned that maybe she didn’t need as much fixing as she’d first thought and discovered that sometimes sisters were made, not born.
She’d found home, and that had turned out to be the very best thing that had happened to her.
* * * * *
Keep reading to read an excerpt from Barefoot Season by Susan Mallery.
Three Sisters – Readers’ Discussion Guide
Visit www.BlackberryIsland.com for a wealth of bonus content about the quaint island and its inhabitants. You’ll find a map of the island to print out for your book group, recipes, a history
of the island and more.
Suggested Menu:
Grilled Chicken Sandwich with Blackberry Relish
Blackberry Relish:
1 cup blackberries, chopped
(frozen blackberries are fine, but thaw them first)
1/2 cup green onions, sliced
1 small can of mild chili peppers, minced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeño, seeded and minced
2 tbsp balsamic vinegar
For the sandwiches:
Boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Black pepper
Provolone cheese
Lettuce
Buns
Mix together all the relish ingredients and set aside. This can be done the day before. Grill the chicken until thoroughly cooked. Add provolone cheese to each chicken breast so that it melts. Assemble the sandwiches and carefully spoon a couple of tablespoons of relish on top of each.
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
1. The Three Sisters in the book are the three houses atop the highest hill on Blackberry Island. In what way does each house reflect its owner? Would you like to live in a Victorian home that is more than one hundred years old? Why or why not? Which house would you want to live in and why?
2. Andi was left at the altar by a man she’d dated for more than ten years. How do you think you would’ve reacted if this had happened to you? What do you think of Andi’s decision to move to Blackberry Island, where she had no support structure in place because she knew no one?
3. With which of the three women did you empathize most strongly? Why? Did your feelings change as the story progressed? What did the women have in common besides geography?
4. Which character changed the most? In what way?
5. A lot of women have control issues like Deanna’s, though not to the same extreme. Do you think she knew she had a problem before Colin confronted her with his unhappiness? Why or why not? Deanna’s need for control stemmed from her childhood as the abused and neglected daughter of an alcoholic mother. From chapter eleven:
They didn’t understand, Deanna thought. Didn’t have any idea what her life had been like. Locked in her room, beaten, cleaning up vomit after one of her mother’s benders. The pain and humiliation lived inside her. All she wanted now was to have a good life. To not be ashamed. But apparently that made her the devil, accor
ding to her husband.
When do you feel that Deanna truly began trying to change, rather than going through the motions?
6. Many couples split up after the death of a child because they grow apart while learning to accept their new reality. How did Boston and Zeke react differently to their son’s death? Did you feel that one of them dealt with the loss more appropriately than the other? Why or why not? Why did Boston continue to draw black-and-white portraits of Liam?
7. Wade was angry when Andi didn’t defend him to her mother. Andi felt Wade was using the moment as an excuse to avoid commitment. Who do you think was right? Why?
8. Susan Mallery is known for tapping into the humor of even the most emotional situations. Which scenes in Three Sisters made you laugh?
9. Female friendship is at the heart of this story, and yet for the first half of the book, the women really didn’t interact much. Deanna’s breakdown in Boston’s kitchen was a major turning point in their relationship. How do you think this single moment changed the women’s understanding of each other? How do you think their friendship changed each woman from that point forward?
10. Overall, do you feel this was a sad book or a happy book? Why? Did you like the way Three Sisters ended for each of the characters? Why or why not?
What makes a house a home—and what makes neighbors friends.
If you loved Three Sisters, don’t miss Barefoot Season, the first Blackberry Island novel
by New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery. Available now!
“Gritty and magical, angst-ridden and sweet, this coming-home story by bestseller Mallery pulls no punches.”
—Publishers Weekly on Barefoot Season
Looking for more? With more than eighty ebooks available, you can also enjoy
Susan Mallery’s Fool’s Gold series—and dozens of other memorable titles!
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One
“I’m going off to war tomorrow. I might not make it back.”
Michelle Sanderson slowly pulled her attention from the five-year-old truck she was thinking of buying and focused it on the guy standing next to her.
He was a kid—maybe eighteen or nineteen, with red hair and freckles. Cute enough but way too young. Still stuck with too-long arms and legs and a chest that had yet to fill out. More man than boy, she supposed, but not yet done with the transition.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sure she must have misunderstood. “What did you say?”
He gave her a wide grin and a wink. “I may not have long in this life. After you buy the truck, we could go get a drink or something. Celebrate me going into the army.”
“It’s two in the afternoon.”
“Then we could head back to my place.”
Michelle didn’t know whether she should start laughing or tell him he was an idiot in terms that would make him cry like a little girl. The latter would be easy enough. She’d served ten years in the army, nearly half of them in either Iraq or Afghanistan. She’d had to deal with more than her share of horny young guys who assumed they were irresistible. She’d gotten really good at showing them they were wrong.
Laughing would be a bit tougher. Mostly because every part of her hurt. Not just her hip, which had the excuse of a recent run-in with a couple of bullets from armed insurgents, followed by a partial joint replacement, but the rest of her. She’d spent more time than she even wanted to think about in the hospital. Healing happened in its own time, her physical therapist had told her. She’d tried to beat the odds, which had netted her nothing more than an extra three nights in the hospital before she’d finally been released.
“Aren’t I a little old for you?” she asked.
He gave her a wink. “Experienced.”
Despite the pain, she managed a chuckle. “Yeah, right. Looking to have your fantasies fulfilled?”
“You know it.”
He was so eager, she thought, feeling more weary by the second. And obviously he hadn’t passed the vision test yet. She knew she wasn’t at her best. Her pale, too-thin body gave away the length of time she’d been in a hospital bed. Her eyes were hollow, her color too gray to be considered normal. She had a cane to help her walk. Which just went to show how powerful a young man’s hormones could be.
Before she could figure out how to pass on his invitation, a yellow Lab came bounding around the side of the house. The animal raced up to her and jumped. Michelle took a quick step back to avoid being knocked over. The movement put pressure on her hip and fiery pain shot through her.
For a second, the world spun. She felt herself starting to black out. Nausea threatened. One or the other, she thought desperately, fighting to stay present. Not both. A surprisingly strong arm wrapped around her body, holding her in place.
“Buster, get down.”
She blinked and the cool, damp afternoon returned to focus. The fire in her hip banked enough to allow her to breathe. The kid stood so close she could see the freckles across his nose and a small scar on his right cheek.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded.
He stepped back and studied her. The dog stayed back, his eyes dark with worry, a low whine indicating his concern.
She held out her hand to the dog. “It’s okay, Buster. I’m fine.”
The dog stepped forward and sniffed her fingers before giving them a quick lick.
“Hey, I wanted to do that,” the kid said, managing a shaky laugh.
Michelle smiled. “Sorry. He’s more my type.”
“You’re hurt.”
She raised the cane slightly. “Did you think this was a fashion accessory?”
“I didn’t notice it, really.”
Which proved her theory about his poor vision. “Just a flesh wound.” Actually flesh, bone and a few tendons, but why get into the details?
He looked from her to the army-issue duffels on the sidewalk, to the cane and then back into her eyes. “Were you there?” he asked.
“There” could have been a hundred places, but she knew what he meant. She nodded.
“Sweet. What was it like? Were you scared? Do you think…?” He swallowed, then flushed. “Can I make it, you think?”
She wanted to tell him no. That staying home, being with his friends, going to college, would be so much easier. Safer. More comfortable. But the easy way often wasn’t the best way, and for some, being a part of something meaningful was worth any price.
Her reasons for joining had been far less altruistic, but over time she’d been molded into a soldier. The trick was going to be figuring out how to find her way back.
“You’ll be fine,” she said, hoping she was telling the truth.
“A hero?” he asked with a grin, then slapped his hand against the truck. “Okay, you’ve done your best to confuse me by being sexy and a war vet. But I’m not going to be di
stracted. I want ten thousand. Not a penny less.”
Sexy? That did make her laugh. At this stage in her life she would have trouble qualifying as a trophy girlfriend for a man pushing ninety. But hey, a compliment was always nice to hear.
She turned her attention to the truck. It was in decent shape, with relatively new tires and only a few dents. The mileage was low enough to allow her to get a few years out of the thing before she would have to start replacing parts.
“Ten’s crazy high,” she said. “I’m paying cash. I’m thinking closer to eight.”
“Eight?” He clutched his hands to his chest. “You’re killin’ me. You really going to do that to a future hero?”
She chuckled. “Come on, kid. We’ll take her for a drive and swing by a mechanic friend of mine. If he says the truck is good, I’ll give you nine-five and you can call it a win.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
* * *
Two hours later, Michelle let the guy—Brandon—off at his place. A mechanic she knew on the base had given her the thumbs-up on the truck and she’d handed over an ordered stack of crisp bills. In return she’d collected paperwork and keys.
Now, as she pulled away from Brandon’s house, she eyed the gray sky. She was back in western Washington state, where rain was so prevalent that a day of sunshine was the lead story on the local news. Leaving luggage in the open was taking a risk and she’d dropped her two duffels in the back. She decided the clouds looked more lazy than ominous. Her duffels should be safe enough on the drive home.
Home. It was a long way from where she’d spent the past ten years. Blackberry Island, an actual island in Puget Sound, connected to the mainland by a long bridge, might technically be within commuting distance of Seattle, but it was a world away. The single town on the island billed itself as the “New England of the West Coast.” A selling point she’d never understood.
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