Sisters by Choice (Blackberry Island #4)(85)

Two hours later she’d gone through her things and had started on the stuff from the house. There were broken toasters and mismatched dishes, old towels, a record player and stacks of records.

She sorted as best she could, putting things in the giveaway pile, the trash pile or the “to be discussed” pile. She thought the records might have value. There was an antiques store on the island, Blackberry Preserves. After clearing it with her mother, Heather would take them there to see if they wanted to buy them.

Around eleven in the morning, Amber wandered out.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Cleaning out the garage. We talked about it last night at dinner.”

“I didn’t think you meant it.”

“Someone has to do it.” Heather tried to keep her tone neutral, but knew she wasn’t successful when her mother’s gaze sharpened.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing, Mom. I want to take a few things over to Blackberry Preserves and see if we can sell them. Once I’ve sorted through everything, you’ll need to tell me what you want to keep.”

Amber looked around. “It’s all junk. I don’t care about any of it.”

Heather knew the trap of that. If she did as her mother said and got rid of it all, she would hear about it for months. How “treasures” had been cavalierly tossed into the trash heap.

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to have you double-check.”

“Fine. Whatever. We need to go sign the lease for the apartment.”

A subject they had carefully avoided, Heather thought grimly.

“The one with the view?” she asked, hoping she was wrong.

“It was so beautiful. You have to admit it’s so much nicer than this place. We’ll love it there.”

“We can’t afford it.”

“Sophie’s giving me a raise. That will help.”

“Why would Sophie give you a raise?”

“Because I deserve it. I’m an excellent employee. Plus, I talked to her about the apartment and she wants to help. She told me so.”

Heather had no idea what the actual conversation had been, but she wasn’t going to get into that now. Yes, the apartment was nice, but there was no way they could come up with the money for it. Even if her mom did get a raise. Besides, there was no way of knowing how long Amber would keep her job. She was notorious for quitting without warning.

Even more troubling was the reality that if Heather managed to escape the island, there was no way she could earn enough to support herself and her mother—especially in the high-rent apartment. It was just too risky.

“I can’t,” she said, bracing herself for the outburst. “I can’t sign that lease.”

Her mother’s face tightened. “What did you say?”

“It’s too expensive. I won’t take on that much of a payment.”

“You can’t tell me no. You ungrateful brat. You know I can’t get the lease on my own. You’re doing this on purpose. You want to punish me. How could you?” Her mother’s voice was a scream. Her whole body began to shake. “I can’t believe you’re being like this. I will never forgive you, Heather. Do you hear me? Never!”

Amber ran out of the garage and into the house. The door slammed behind her. Heather had never refused her mother anything. She always gave in. Only this time she couldn’t. It was too much money that she didn’t have.

“I’m putting on my own oxygen mask,” she whispered, doing her best not to give in to the need to throw up. “I’m saving myself. I’m allowed to do that. It’s going to be okay.”

The words were all lies, but she kept repeating them on the unlikely chance that one day they would be true.



Chapter Twenty-Three


Sophie had a lot of feelings and nowhere to put them. She’d spent over two hours playing with the kittens, stopping only when they collapsed in exhaustion. She’d cleaned her house and brushed the mama cats and got groceries. By then it was three on a Sunday afternoon and she still had too much energy to just sit and read or watch a movie.

This was when it would be good to be the kind of person who went for a run, she thought. But she wasn’t. And with things still weird with Dugan, she hadn’t even gone to his class that morning. Which made no sense—the man had done as he’d promised. He’d moved Judy to the Blackberry Island Inn. So where was the bad?

It was a question without answer so she did the only thing that made sense. She drove to the warehouse. After deactivating the alarm code, she prowled the shelves, scowling at the changes Bear had made. By the huge overhead doors, she saw several pallets of merchandise that must have been delivered late on Friday. Her spirits lifted. At last, something to do that would leave her tired enough to ignore the churning in her brain.

She used the forklift to move the pallets, then removed the protective layer of plastic and began logging in the items. As she worked, she tried to figure out why Dugan had been so accommodating. That was better than dissecting the whole “I’m crazy about you” line he’d fed her. He couldn’t be. She was grumpy and stubborn and now she wouldn’t sleep with him. No way he could still like her.

But thinking about him not liking her wasn’t fun, either. Maybe if she could define what they had. It wasn’t a relationship—not in the traditional sense. She couldn’t do that. Not anymore. She’d tried with Mark and all that had gotten her was a ridiculous alimony payout for his half of a business he’d never had anything to do with.