She texted back a pic she had taken of the girls in their cute little flowery sundresses holding her birthday cake. Gorgeous cake, Yvette texted back. And then a second later.
Dayam, girl. Who’s the hottie?
She looked at the photo again and saw that Nate was standing in the background. He was smiling at the scene and looked big and dark and luscious.
Eleanor’s son, she answered back. He and his daughter came to the party.
You been holding out on me. Too bad you’re almost done there. Maybe I should still fly out to help you finish up. I’d like a taste of that.
She almost texted back, Nate’s mine. That wasn’t true, of course. She just wanted it to be.
You know I always have a pullout couch ready for you, she texted.
Yvette sent her the thinking emoji, which made her smile.
Yvette was someone else who had never taken no for an answer. When they met during basic training, Jess had put up all the usual back-off signals. Yvette had shoved them all out of the way with her characteristic style and insisted they were fated to be friends. Jess had been helpless in the face of such blatant confidence.
Their bond had been cemented through their initial training and had only been reinforced when they served together in Iraq.
They had worked perfectly together building Transitions. Each had strengths that complemented the other.
She wasn’t alone, Jess reminded herself. She had a sister she loved, nieces, a nephew. She had Yvette, an interesting job, a tiny house that was just right for her, barring the unfortunate showering limitations.
So she didn’t have a man in her life. That was her choice. The smartest choice for her situation right now—even if a rainy, cold night like this one made her wish she could make a different one.
31
Jess
She was finishing her coffee and some avocado toast the next morning before heading over to Eleanor’s when someone knocked rather tentatively on the door of her Airstream.
For one wild moment, she wondered if it might be Nate, if he might have come to pick up where they had left off the night before.
Butterflies immediately swarmed in her stomach and her heartbeat edged up. No. It couldn’t be Nate. He was probably getting Sophie off to school and heading off himself to a job site. Anyway, something told her his knock would have been more forceful.
With all the heat they seemed to generate between them, maybe he wouldn’t have even bothered to knock, just would have forced the door open and swept her into his arms.
She swallowed hard and warily opened the door.
It wasn’t Nate. Instead, her sister stood on the other side. For once, Rachel didn’t look Insta-polished, her makeup flawless and her hair styled.
She had circles under her eyes, no makeup as far as Jess could tell and her hair was swept back into a messy bun with a few strands hanging out. She looked as if she had been up all night.
The memory of their fight the night before and the hard words they had flung at each other seemed to swirl around them like mist in the morning air.
“Rachel. Hi.” She looked over her sister’s head to her empty minivan parked next to Jess’s own pickup. “Where are the kids?”
“Cody had an issue with a supplier so had the morning off. He offered to get the girls to school and hang out with Silas while he makes some phone calls at home so that I could come talk to you.”
“Okay.”
What else did they have to say to each other? Her stomach burned a little, but she told herself it was only because she’d had too much coffee and not enough toast.
There wasn’t much room inside her trailer for both of them, especially not with these big feelings between them.
Since the morning was beautiful, the ocean gleaming in the sunshine after the rain, she gestured to her turquoise bistro set, grateful she had taken her still-damp clothing inside to dry in the shower now that she was ready for the day.
“Do you want some coffee? I was just eating breakfast. Can I make you some avocado toast?”
Rachel shook her head but slid into one of the chairs. “I’m not hungry. And I really don’t need more caffeine.”
“What do you need?”
“To talk to you.”
More than a little wary now, Jess grabbed her own breakfast and sat down across from her sister. She was still feeling vaguely queasy from the emotional turmoil of the night before. She wasn’t sure she was up to more today.
“I ruined your party,” Rachel said, her voice quivering slightly. “I wanted it to be perfect and then I...I ruined it.”
Rachel met her gaze and Jess saw that her sister looked wretched.
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
“I did. And the worst part is, I have no idea why. I have all the best intentions and then all these awful things come gushing out.”
As Jess feared, her sister started to cry, big tears dripping down her cheeks. Her nose started to run and she looked around rather wildly, as if Jess would have a box of tissue always at the ready.
Not sure what else to do, she handed over the napkin she hadn’t used yet and Rachel wiped at her nose and her eyes.
“I’m a hot mess,” Rachel sniffled. “You were absolutely right. I don’t know how to fix it. I keep thinking I’m doing okay and then something sets me off. And I’m losing my husband.”
The tears finally became one sob then another and another. Jess didn’t know what to do. She hated tears in herself and really hated them in her sister. She wanted to run inside the Airstream and close the door tightly behind her. But Rachel was being vulnerable with her. She couldn’t just stand by and stare.
She rose and hugged her sister, wishing the gesture that had once been so routine between them felt a little more natural and a little less forced.
Rachel didn’t seem to mind. She rested her head against Jess’s chest and held tight to her waist, letting the tears flow.
“You’re not losing your husband. I shouldn’t have said that yesterday. Cody adores you.”
“How can he? You were right. Everything you said last night.”
“I’m the last one to offer marital advice, sis. You know that. The only experience I have was being a witness along with you to our parents’ train wreck of a marriage. It might not have been the worst marriage ever but it would surely have a place of honor in the Bad Marriage Hall of Fame.”
Rachel eased away, wiping at her eyes with the bedraggled napkin. “Yes. If there were such a thing.”
“Yours doesn’t belong anywhere near there. You love Cody, right?”