“I took a plane and then I drove.” A tentative smile played around the corners of Grace's mouth.
“You look great.” God, she'd missed Grace. They used to be as close as two sisters could get. It was over two years since they'd been in the same room together. Grace and her husband liked to do Christmas somewhere warm. Holly was glad for any excuse not to have to make nice with Greg.
Holly wanted to reach out to Grace She hesitated, not sure the gesture would be welcome.
“So do you.” Grace's tentative smile blossomed into a grin.
To hell with it.
Holly closed the gap between them and pulled her sister into a hug.
Grace froze for a second before her arms came up.
Holly tightened her hold. The familiar feel and scent of Grace surrounded her, and some of the bleakness receded. “I'm glad you're here.”
Her throat constricted on the words.
Grace nodded and tightened her arms briefly, then she stepped back. “This feels weird.”
“I know.” It was weird, but good weird. “Where's Greg?”
“Not here.” Grace moved to stand over at the window. “I never thought I would come back here. Ever.” She kept her gaze on something outside the window. “Have you been to the house?”
“Yes.” Holly joined her at the window. Outside, an elderly man tried to dissuade his dog's interest in an azalea bush. “You wouldn't recognize it, though. It's been completely renovated.”
“Speaking of overhauls. You look great.” Grace turned and studied her from head to toe. “No, I mean it. You look great.”
“Yeah?” The compliment warmed her from the inside out. More often than not, Grace was outspokenly vocal on Holly's complete disregard for fashion. “I can't take the credit.” Holly waved her hand breezily through the air. “I have a new consultant.”
Grace snorted.
“I strongly suspect I am being managed,” Holly said.
“You? Managed?”
“Uh-huh.”
“With your full knowledge?” Grace's eyes narrowed. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with Holly?”
Holly laughed. “Don't get excited; it's only a temporary thing.” She took a moment to study her sister's face. “I can't believe you're here.”
“Me neither.” Grace pulled out a kitchen chair and folded herself elegantly into it.
“Grace?” Emma stood poised in the kitchen doorway. “Is that you?”
“Hey, Em.” Grace greeted her from the kitchen table.
Emma stayed in the doorway.
They weren't a tactile family. It had never occurred to Holly how little affection they displayed among one another. Josh was a corrupting influence, with his constant casual touches throughout the course of a day.
Emma floated over to where Grace sat.
They couldn't have been more differentâGrace with her perfectly tailored suit and blouse, her killer heels tapping the floor, versus Emma in her tie-dyed cotton dress sweeping the ground over her bare feet. Their dissimilarity went all the way to the core.
“I knew you would come.” Emma gave Grace a smug smile.
Grace narrowed her eyes. “Wow. That's incredible, considering I didn't have any idea I was actually coming here until I got in the car.”
And Grace and Emma fit straight into their assigned roles. Tension oozed into the room.
“I wish you'd told me.” Holly tried to lighten the atmosphere. That was her role in this. Emma and Grace went head to head and Holly soothed the waters. “I was blown away.”
“I drew some cards for you.” Emma patted Grace's hand. Her bracelets clattered against the wooden table. “I thought they were for me, but they didn't make any sense, so they must have been for you.”
“Thanks, Em.” Grace shifted uncomfortably.
“Don't you want to know what they said?” Emma never knew when to let something go.
“Maybe later.” Grace gave her a weak smile. “So, tell me about Portia.”
“Portia is fighting a war within herself.” Emma blinked mistily. “The cards are cautioning her to take it easy and to be herself.”
“She's bipolar,” Grace said. “I don't think the cards cover that.”
Emma stiffened.
“It's okay, Gracie.” Holly stepped in quickly. “That's what Emma means.”
“Then she should say so.” Grace rose to her feet and stalked back to the window. “So, give me the facts.”
“Portia is on a quest.” Emma's eyes grew unfocused.
Grace made a growling noise.
“No, she's right. Sort of.” Holly held up a hand to forestall Grace. “Like I said, I think this has something to do with Melissa.”
Grace paled and leaned against the counter for support. “Melissa?”
“Why do you always call Mummy Melissa?” Emma looked from Holly to Grace.
“Habit.” Grace motioned for Holly to continue.
“I think Portia's pregnancy is the reason for this sudden interest in Melissa.” The old bickering made her tired. Holly took the seat opposite Emma. In as few words as possible, she told Grace more about the pregnancy and Portia's fixation on Josh.
“He's being rather understanding,” she said. “But for everyone's sake, we need to get this sorted out.”
Emma clasped her hands together on the table in front of her carefully, like a nun preparing herself for prayer. Her rings and bracelets rattled loudly against the wood as Emma lowered them to the table. “You mean for your sake.”
“What am I missing?” Grace looked from one to the other.
Emma shook her head and continued to study her jewelry with a pious air of martyrdom.
“Emma doesn't approve of myâme and Josh Hunter.” To put it mildly. Holly folded her arms over her chest.
Grace's eyes gleamed with lively curiosity. “Is there a you and Josh?”
“Yes. No. I don't know.”
Brilliant answer, Holly
. “It's complicated.”
“Tell me about it.” Grace snorted.
Holly got the feeling she was talking about something entirely different.
“Have you been doing the wild thing with him?” Grace cut straight to the chase.
“Uh-huh.” Holly's cheeks heated.
Grace threw up her hands triumphantly. “I knew it.”
“I knew it.” Emma's head shot up and her eyes narrowed on Holly. “I knew you were doing that with him instead ofâ”
“You go, girl,” Grace said. “If he's as hot as he was in high school, you are my new hero.”
Emma curled her lip. “It's disgusting.”
“No, it's not.” Grace glared at Emma. “It's high time Holly got some action.”
“She has Steven.” Emma's eyes widened.
“Steven.” Grace managed to load the name with a huge dollop of contempt. “No woman in her right mind would choose Steven over Josh.”
“Not the point, Grace.” Emma smacked her palms on the table. Jewelry clanked and scraped. “What about Portia? I cannot believe both of you can be this selfish. This will drive her over the edge.”
“She's already over the edge.” Grace turned on Emma suddenly.
Emma gasped. “That's a horrible thing to say.”
“Why? It's the truth.” Grace stuck her chin out.
“I think what Grace is sayingâ”
“You're being awful and unkind.” Emma shot to her feet, the bench screeching against the floor.
“Bullshit, Emma. She's ill, sick.” Grace tapped her temple with her forefinger. “In here, Emma, something doesn't work properly.”
Emma gasped, her eyes going even wider.
Grace rolled right over her. “It doesn't make any difference what any one of us does or doesn't do. Because Portia is not going to get better. She's not ever going to be right again.
Do. You. Get. That?
” Grace's cheeks flushed and her eyes glittered.
Emma imploded on a sob and crumpled back onto the bench.
Grace dropped into her seat. “Shit.”
“Gracie?” Holly approached her sister slowly. There was so much going on beneath the surface. Grace's reaction had shocked her as well. Her sister had a hair-trigger temper, but this was something else.
“Where did that come from?” Grace raked her shaking fingers over her cheeks and down, as if she could pull her skin off her bones. “Where the hell did that come from, Holly?”
“It's being here,” Holly said into the silence. “It's being in this place and with Portia cycling. It brings it back.”
Grace's eye entreated Holly to toss her this bone. “For you, too?”
“For me, too.”
“Man.” Grace exhaled loudly. “It's like Melissa all over again. Are we screwed up or what?”
Beside Holly, Emma stopped crying and looked from one to the other of them. “You never talk about her,” she said suddenly. “About Mummy; you never talk about her.”
Grace flinched at Emma's choice of words.
The word
mummy
jangled inside Holly, tightening her stomach and making her chest ache. “We can't.”
Grace shook her head and shrugged.
“Butâ?”
“Leave it, Em.” Emma had no sense of self-preservation. “Not now.”
“Then when?” Tears spilled down Emma's cheeks. “Portia and I have the right to know.”
Holly's heart sank as Emma lit the fuse that was Grace.
The menace resonated off Grace as she turned to Emma. “What did you say?”
“Grace.” Holly didn't disagree with Grace. Emma and her whining about her rights and what mattered to her was enough to make a saint snap, but they had enough on their plates right now.
Grace shook her off.
“I said,” Emma swallowed convulsively and stuck her chin out, “Portia and I have rights in this family, too.”
“Rights.” Grace threw up her hands. “Rights?”
“Yes,” Emma said doggedly.
“Don't you dare talk to me and Holly about your rights.” Grace rounded on Emma like a feral thing. “You had the right to be taken care of, to be fed, to wear clean clothes, to get to school, and we made sure of that. Holly and I, we gave up everything for your damn rights.”
“Gracie . . .” Holly tried to reel her in.
“No.” Grace shook her head. “She needs to hear this. She can't keep hiding behind you or the mystic shit she mouths off. We protected the two of them so well, Holly, but we forgot about ourselves. Who took care of us, Holly? Who? And who's stopping us from screwing up our lives now? They have you.” She pointed at Emma. “Who do we have?”
Thunderous silence filled with the heavy choke of the tears Grace still didn't shed.
Grace's words sank in, finding the cracks in Holly's armor and widening them.
“I can't deal with this shit.” Grace scraped her chair back loudly. “I've been traveling and I'm tired and sticky and I want to . . . I need . . .”
“I'll show you where you can get settled.” Donna stood in the doorway with Josh.
Holly could barely look at them. She had no idea how much they'd heard and she felt stripped right down to the bone and exposed. The Partridge girls in all their dysfunctional glory.
Emma shot out of her chair and ran from the room. She pushed past Grace on her way up the stairs.
“This way.” Donna led Grace out of the kitchen.
Holly was hollow, detached inside.
Emma would find Portia and comfort there.
Grace's words still rang in her ears. Who would comfort Grace? Who would comfort Holly?
“Emma and Grace, they don't get on.” Holly raised her hand and dropped it again.
Josh was beside her. “Holly?”
“I'm fine.”
He reached for her and she stepped away.
He dropped his hands and shoved them into his pockets.
He saw too much. She couldn't control it when he gave her his empathy. “Grace is angry.”
He grunted his agreement, his gaze heavy on her.
She couldn't look up. If she did, it would be over; she would walk into his arms and the comfort they offered. It wouldn't change a damn thing, however. “She's been holding it together for so long she's frightened if she lets it go, it will overwhelm her.”
Still he didn't move or speak.
“It's like this big sore festering inside her, and she's terrified of what will happen if she exposes it. It could poison everything around her.”
“I don't think that will happen,” he said.
“You don't?”
“No, I don't. Because she was strong enough to survive in the first place, and she'll be strong enough to handle what happens next.”
“But you can't be sure.” Holly turned to look at him, unable not to. “You can't be sure she'll be okay.”
“Yes, I can, because she's strong.” He stepped toward her. “She's stronger than she knows.”
“No, she isn't.” Holly gave a brittle little laugh. “She isn't strong at all. It's an act, and it's going to come crashing down around her ears any day now.”
“Holly.” He reached for her.
Holly shook her head and dodged him. “I can't.” How to make him understand when her mind kept yelling its defiance? “I can't do any of it. You have to see that.” Please, God, don't let him make her explain. “It's too difficult.”
“Josh?” Donna appeared in the doorway. “Could you drop me home?”
Josh took a step back. “I'll come back later.”
“No.” Holly took the escape offered. “I need to go and see if my sister is all right.”