Sisters by Choice (Blackberry Island #4)(90)

Heather felt too awful to smile. Instead, she offered a half-hearted wave and headed for the front door.

It was only when she was by the front door that she thought to wonder why there was a van in the driveway. Her mother drove a Subaru and was at work.

The bathroom, she thought with a groan as her stomach twisted and turned.

Today was the hall bathroom redo. The tub-shower combo was getting one of those re-covering jobs and the vanity and sink were being replaced. For the next couple of days she was going to have to share her mother’s bathroom.

She staggered into the house with the idea she would change into yoga pants and a T-shirt and then maybe—

But whatever plans she’d had quickly changed as she was forced to bolt for the master bath. She barely made it in time, retching until she thought she was in danger of something coming loose. She sank onto the floor where she tried to catch her breath.

A few minutes later she crawled to the sink and pulled herself to a standing position. She washed her face with cold water and rinsed out her mouth, then managed to get to her bedroom where she quickly changed all the while hearing hammering and cheerful conversation between a couple of guys she didn’t know.

One of them stepped into the hallway. “We’re doing the bathroom today,” he said. “We talked to your mom when we arrived.”

Heather nodded. “Don’t mind me. I came home early because I don’t feel well. I’ll stay out of your way.”

She thought about getting something to drink, but it seemed like too much effort. Instead, she went to the linen closet where she pulled out a spare blanket and pillow, then dragged both into the master and laid them on the floor. She lay down and waited to see what would happen next.

Morning passed into early afternoon. She threw up twice more before managing to get a cup of ice and a can of Sprite. She sipped slowly, careful not to tax her system. Despite the pounding, a radio playing and guys talking, she slept a little. She woke up in the late afternoon feeling marginally better. She wasn’t the least bit hungry, but she no longer felt the cramping and twisting in her belly.

She rolled onto her back and thought maybe she would try getting up. She could sit on the sofa and—

The bedroom door opened and her mother walked in. Heather stared in surprise, thinking it was either later than she thought or her mother had come home early. Even as the thoughts formed, she saw Amber carrying several large plastic trash bags filled with cat beds and toys and throws—all with the CK logo.

Amber stared at her. “What are you doing in my bedroom?”

“I got food poisoning and came home. Tina drove me. I couldn’t stay in my room because they’re working on my bathroom.”

“Oh. No one told me.” Her mother walked around her and shoved the bags into the closet, then shut the door. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Heather sat up. “Mom, what’s all that stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“The bags you just put into the closet.”

Amber leaned over and touched her forehead. “You might have a fever. Did you take your temperature?”

“Mom, the bags.”

“There are no bags.”

Heather got to her feet. The room spun a little before settling into place. “I saw them.” The bags were important, she thought, trying to focus. Because there was no way Amber had bought all those things. There was no reason. Which only left one ugly possibility.

“Mom, you’re not stealing from Sophie, are you?”

The slap came out of nowhere. Heather staggered back a step, then pressed a hand to her stinging cheek.

“How dare you,” Amber said, her voice low and angry. “What a terrible thing to say. I bought those things. I paid for them myself.”

Her chin came up as she spoke and her gaze was steady. Heather willed herself to believe. She wanted to know it was going to be okay—that her mother wasn’t really stealing from her own cousin, but there was no getting around the truth.

“Why?” she asked softly, dropping her hand to her side. “We have good jobs. We’re well paid. Why would you do that?”

“She’s not paying us enough. I want that apartment and this is your fault. If you would just sign the lease, then everything would be fine. You’re so selfish. I don’t know where I went wrong with you.”

Heather knew there was a message here—one she needed to listen to—but she wasn’t able to pull it all together. Sadness overwhelmed her, along with a sense of loss and the knowledge that she was well and truly trapped in circumstances she couldn’t control. The only possible plan was to escape. Only how? And—

Her stomach lurched and she had to run to the bathroom to throw up yet again. This time was one of the worst. There was nothing in her stomach, but no part of her body seemed to care as powerful muscles caused her to retch over and over again.

When she could finally breathe, she sank onto the tile floor, pulling her knees to her chest. She felt a cool, damp cloth against the back of her neck.

“Just try to relax,” Amber said. “I’ll go get you more Sprite with fresh ice. Then I’ll check on the workmen and find out how much longer they’re going to be. You need to sleep. Later, I’ll heat you some chicken noodle soup. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Thanks, Mom.”