Too Good to Be True(106)

“Can I sit with you?” she asked.

“Sure. Of course.” Natalie sat next to me. When she slipped her hand into mine, I looked down at our entwined hands. Her engagement ring caught the light. “My ring looked just like this,” I murmured.

“I know. Who buys the same ring for sisters?”

“He probably didn’t remember the one he gave to me. He can’t even pick out matching socks.”

“Pathetic,” she murmured.

“Men,” I muttered.

“So dumb.”

I agreed…in Andrew’s case, anyway. “Did he tell you about that kiss?” I whispered.

I hadn’t meant to ruin anything for Natalie. Should’ve thought about that before I opened my mouth.

She was quiet for a moment. “Yes, he told me.” A mockingbird twittered above us, a long stream of notes.

“What did he say?” I asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

“He said it was a lapse in judgment. That being in the house with you, having seen you with another guy…it made him feel a little jealous.”

I sneaked a glance at my sister. “What did you think about that?”

“Well, I thought he was an ass**le, Grace,” she said, making my mouth drop open in shock. “It was our first fight.

I told him he’d screwed up our lives enough already, and kissing you was unacceptable. Then I slammed a few doors and stomped around for a while.”

Natalie’s face was red. “How refreshing,” I murmured.

She snorted. “And I was…jealous. Not that I had a right to be, given what I did to you.”

I squeezed her hand. “You can’t help the big kablammy,” I said.

Natalie shot me a questioning glance.

“You know,” I said. “The thunderbolt. Just one look, that’s all it took, all that garbage.” I paused. “But you made up, obviously. You guys are okay, right?”

She gave a little nod. “I think so,” she whispered, looking straight ahead and squeezing my hand a little tighter.

Her eyes were full of tears. “Grace, I’m so sorry that of all the people in the world, I had to fall for him. That I hurt you.” She drew a shaking breath. “I never said it, but I’ll say it now. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Well, you know, it really sucked,” I admitted. It was a relief to say the words.

“Are you mad at me?” Two tears slipped down her cheeks.

“No,” I assured her. Then I reconsidered. “Well…not anymore. I tried not to be. I was more mad at Andrew, to be honest, but yeah, part of me was just screaming. It wasn’t fair.”

“Grace, you know you’re my favorite person in the world. The last person I’d ever willingly hurt. I never meant to. I never wanted to. I hated that I fell for Andrew. I hated it.” She was crying harder now.

I slipped my arm around her, pulling her so that our heads touched as we sat, side by side, not looking at each other. I didn’t like to have my sister crying, but maybe she just needed to. And maybe I needed to see it. “Well,” I admitted softly, “it hurt. Quite a bit. I didn’t want you to know it. But I’m over that now. I really am.”

“Making up Wyatt…” Her voice trailed off. “I think that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. And man, I jumped all over that.” She gave a grim laugh. “I kind of suspected he wasn’t real, you know. You had me up until the bit about the feral cats.” She grinned.

I rolled my eyes. “I know.”

Nat sighed. “I guess I didn’t want to know the truth.” We were quiet for a moment. “You know, Grace,” she said softly, “you don’t have to watch out for me anymore. You don’t have to protect me from every sad emotion.”

“Well,” I said, my own eyes filling. “I kind of do. That’s my job. I’m your big sister.”

“Forget the job,” she suggested, reaching out to tuck a wayward strand of frizz behind my ear. “Forget that you’re the big sister. Let’s just be plain old sisters. Equals, okay?”

I looked into the blue, clear sky. Ever since I was four, I’d been watching out for Natalie, admiring her, protecting her. It might be nice, just…just liking her. Instead of adoration, friendship. Equals, like she said.

“Like Margaret,” I mused.

“Oh, God, don’t be like Margaret!” she blurted with mock earnestness, and we both burst into laughter. Then Nat opened her purse and handed me a tissue—of course, she was armed with a cunning little tissue pack with roses on the cover—and we sat for another minute, listening to the mockingbird, holding hands.

“Grace?” she said eventually.

“Yeah?”

“I really liked Callahan.”

Hearing that was like pressing on a bruise to see if it still hurt. It did. “Me, too,” I whispered. She squeezed my hand and had the sense not to say anything else. After a moment, I cleared my throat and glanced around at the restaurant. “Want to get back?”

“Nah,” she said. “Let everyone wonder. Maybe we could fake a cat fight, just for fun.”

I laughed. My Nattie of old. “I missed you,” I admitted.

“I missed you, too. It’s been so hard, wondering if you’re really as okay as you seemed, but afraid to ask. And I’ve been jealous, you know. You and Margs, living together.”