Brianna’s jaw tightened, and her eyes suddenly watered. She looked away from Sarah. “I don’t detest her.” Her voice cracked. “Never have. How could I hate Meg? She’s a good girl. A good person.” She reached up and quickly brushed away a tear. “I just wish I’d been different. I wish I’d been less of a pothead and crazy-ass wild child. I’ve been so stupid in my life. Have made so many mistakes—”
“Everybody does,” Sarah said, sitting forward and touching Brianna’s leg, a leg that felt like nothing. Too thin, Bree was just too thin.
“But I’ve done it for years. Continued for years. Taking too many chances, taking risks, not being smart, not caring . . .” Brianna wiped away another tear. “Please ignore me. Can’t believe I’m crying in front of you.”
Sarah’s chest squeezed tight. “I don’t care.”
“I do.” Brianna sat up taller, stretching her legs out in front of her. “And we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about Meg. Meg and her guilt. Meg and her shame. We have to help her get rid of it, or she’ll never be able to be with Chad—”
“But she’ll never be with Chad again,” Sarah interrupted. “She won’t date him again. She can’t. There’s way too much water under the bridge.”
“Why?”
“Kit told me that people in Santa Rosa and Napa talked about Meg last summer. People were really harsh. Quite a few people shunned her, saying terrible things about her, and it really hurt her.”
“So? Why does she care what people think about her? Sticks and stones may break your bones—”
“Yes, but this is Meg. And Meg does care. And she cares about appearances.”
“That’s stupid. And shallow.”
“Not that shallow when you realize she does it mainly to protect the kids.”
“The kids?”
Sarah nodded. “Meg’s a mom. It’s different when you’re a mom. Different when you have kids. You’ve got to do what’s right for them, and getting back together with Chad wouldn’t be good for the kids. It’d just be opening old wounds.”
“But Meg deserves happiness.”
“She does. I completely agree with you there. But unfortunately, she won’t find it with Chad.”
“Well, I’m going to root for Chad. I’m a romantic. I like happy endings.”
Sarah blinked, surprised. “You’re a romantic?”
“Die-hard.” Brianna smiled crookedly. “You didn’t know?”
Sarah shook her head. “No.” She stared at her sister, seeing her with all new eyes. “Always?”
Brianna grinned. “Yes. But I was scared of falling in love. Scared of commitment. Scared that someone might love me and want me. Scared of finding real love and then being rejected for not being worthy.” Her grin faded, leaving her pale face open, her expression uncertain. Suddenly she looked like a girl. Young, shy, vulnerable. “You had no idea that crazy Bree was such a scaredy-cat, did you?”
Sarah stared at Brianna’s delicate profile—the small nose, the long eyelashes, the full, sensual mouth beneath a firm chin. She was beautiful. And real. And ill.
“Is it serious, Bree?” Sarah asked quietly, gently, but even then the words felt raspy and sharp in her mouth, making it hurt to speak.
Brianna turned to look at her. “What?”
Sarah held her gaze. “Did you at least tell Mom what was going on with you, before she died?”
For a moment her sister didn’t speak, and Sarah wasn’t sure she would. But then Brianna’s lips moved, and she forced out a word. “Yes.”
“You told Mom what was wrong?”
“Yes.”
“It’s . . . serious. Isn’t it?”
Brianna’s thin chest rose and fell. Her mouth worked. Then she shrugged, almost carelessly. “It’s . . . no. It’s . . . fine.”
Sarah didn’t believe her. “Are we going to lose you, too, Bree?”
“I sure as hell hope not.”
That wasn’t the same thing as no, was it? Sarah balled her hands in her lap to hide that they were shaking. “Does Dad know?”
Brianna gave her head the tiniest shake. “No.”
“Shouldn’t he?”
For a moment Brianna said nothing, then she sighed. “I was going to tell him. Mom made me promise that I’d tell him.”
“Well?”
Her shoulder shifted. “But now Jack’s died and Meg’s a little bit crazy and Tommy and Cass—”
“So?”
Brianna shrugged again. “I just . . . I can’t.”