The Chicken Sisters(47)

To Mae, it was as if the lights were flashing and thunder crashing, even if those reactions came from her heart and mind. Amanda could see them too; Mae knew she could. The screen door had flown open and a gust of wind rushed from the pass-through toward the door, pushing them, although the night had been still. Mimi’s might not speak to Andy, but it was howling at the two Moore girls.

Amanda had only been inside Mimi’s once since marrying Frank and taking up her work at Frannie’s. It had been the day after his funeral, when she had come quietly in and sat and watched Mae helping Barbara prep, and they hadn’t said anything. The air had gone out of the kitchen and things became very quiet, just the three of them, until Barbara took an apron from the hook on the wall and held it out to Amanda.

Amanda shook her head.

Barbara held the apron out again, and again Amanda shook her head.

And Barbara, as if possessed, started shaking the apron at Amanda, saying nothing, flicking it at her, flapping until Amanda fled her stool, urging her toward the door.

“I thought you were coming back to us,” Barbara said, staring straight ahead. “If you’re not, go home. You’ve got another family now.”

Amanda struggled with the door, which finally burst open, then ran, slamming it behind her, never once looking at Mae. Barbara resumed her work as if nothing had happened.

As if Amanda had never been there at all.

At the time, Mae felt like her mother took the whole thing with Amanda and Frannie’s more than a little too far. She had tried to go after Amanda but known instantly by the look on Barbara’s face that it would be the wrong move, that staying, then trying to bring them together later, would have a better chance at working.

It hadn’t. Amanda hadn’t wanted her, either. And seeing Amanda, here, now—Barbara was right. Amanda had chosen. And now she needed to live with that choice and leave Mimi’s alone.

But Andy did not seem inclined to follow the rules.

“What the hell are you doing?” He put a hand on Mae, who knocked it away—what, did he think she was actually going to punch her sister? She might have wanted to, but they weren’t twelve. She kept her hands on her hips, very aware that Sabrina had just appeared in the doorway, phone in her hand. Although her stance was casual, Mae was dead certain she was filming.

Sabrina smiled as though nothing was happening. “Amanda, you found Andy—great! But I guess I thought you didn’t usually go into Mimi’s?”

Mae had to admire the lure Sabrina tossed out there. As angry as she still was—and she was; she was shaking all over—she mentally willed her sister to show a little sense for a change. Say anything at all, and Sabrina would have some interesting footage. But if they kept quiet—she pressed her lips together and tried to give both Andy and Amanda an intense look. Just shut up, she thought. She’s setting us up. Just shut up and go. Don’t give it to her. Well played by Sabrina, yes. And Mae owed her sister one, and Amanda was going to get it. But it was still possible to keep a little family dignity, if only Amanda and Andy would play this cool.

They did not.

“I asked her in,” Andy snapped.

“No, she’s right, I shouldn’t have come in,” said Amanda, wildly looking around, smoothing the long hair she no longer had, then hopping on one foot to put her second flip-flop back on. “I knew it, I’m sorry. I’ll just go now.” She wasn’t meeting Andy’s eyes, or Mae’s, and she couldn’t seem to stop talking. “I should get home anyway, I don’t know why I came in, just dumb, I guess, I didn’t really have a reason . . .”

We all know your reason, thought Mae. Now that she could see Sabrina’s machine working, it was far easier to tuck away her anger over Amanda’s betrayal and follow her own script, not Sabrina’s. Fine, she had a scene. But let it be a scene of Mae calmly handling an unwanted intrusion, not losing it. She shifted her tone, hoping that Sabrina’s phone hadn’t caught her earlier. “It’s no big deal, Amanda,” she said, ignoring the looks on Amanda’s and Andy’s faces. “You said hi, and, yeah, you can just head out.” Just basically say nothing, she told herself. “Here’s your bag.” She picked up Amanda’s tote bag from the floor where it had fallen. Her phone had spilled out, along with her Frannie’s shirt from earlier.

“I see you changed before you came,” Mae said, holding one strap of the bag as Amanda reached out and took the other. Their eyes met. She wanted Amanda to know that she knew what Amanda had done—and that there would be payback. “Guess you probably weren’t planning to strip down here.” Mae held the bag for just an instant too long, knowing her face was away from the camera, and she dropped everything fake and friendly from her face while keeping her voice light. Let the viewers hear her containing her anger, but Amanda was going to see it loud and clear. “Have a nice night.”

She saw understanding in Amanda’s eyes before she turned away, hearing rather than seeing her sister slip out the door.

Amanda, it seemed, was going to break every rule. She didn’t respect the rules, or the past, or, clearly, Mae and Barbara. Or even Andy, who was still gazing after her sister, actually looking hurt, the fool. Jerk though he might be, he could probably have any single woman in this town through sheer lack of competition, and he actually had a thing for Amanda?

He’d regret it. Because if Amanda wasn’t going to play by the rules, Mae wasn’t either. Plan A had been making Mimi’s look good while Frannie’s took the crown, but Plan B was even better: Mimi’s triumphs, and Frannie’s looks like the Olive Garden wannabe that it had turned itself into. She’d highlight the authenticity that was Mimi’s, the way nothing ever changed because it didn’t need to and the hell with the kale salad. She’d use everything she had to make this story go her way, and she could do it, too. She knew how this worked, and Amanda didn’t have a clue.