“I’m sorry,” Betty said eventually. “Not for what I said, because every single thing I told you is true. I’m sorry I yelled.” She gazed at Bobbi over her mug as she raised it to her lips. “It’s too early to yell. Hell, it’s not even seven.”
Bobbi blew out a long breath and stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles. She stared down at her pink fuzzy socks for so long they blurred. “You’re right,” she said softly.
“Of course I’m right.” Betty’s brow furled and she cocked her head to the side. “What part exactly are you talking about?”
A smile lifted Bobbi’s lips. “All of it.”
“Betty, are you going to be alright?” She asked, her smile fading, because there was something personal in her sister’s rant. Something painful. And for the first time in forever she’d caught a glimpse of the old Betty, but it was gone just as quick. And the new version had cracks. The new version was paper thin.
“Sure. I’m always alright, why?”
“Because you’re not always, alright?”
Betty laughed a soft, sad, sound. “Well, there is that, but if you don’t mind I’d rather not talk about the sad state of my life. I’d rather talk about Billie.”
“Wow. That’s a good deflection. I thought you didn’t give a rat’s ass about, Billie.”
“I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy talking about her.”
Bobbi pushed up from the table. “I don’t want to talk about Billie with you.” She gave her sister a hug, bent down and whispered. “Whatever it is between the two of you…this thing that’s sort of broken, you guys need to fix it, okay?”
“Sure,” Betty mumbled. “I’ll get right on that.”
Bobbi tossed her mug in the dishwasher and glanced out the window. “Holy shit!”
“What?”
Betty was beside in her in instant and the two girls stared out onto the stone pathway that led to the back garden. It looked as if a carrot tree had exploded everywhere. The path was literally covered in small, rounded, peeled carrots.
“Shit,” Bobbi murmured. “I needed those for the turnip.”
Movement caught her eyes and she grabbed Betty, pointing toward the far end of the path, right where it met the garden. A garden that was bare, brown and muddy, with parts along the edges covered in the stubborn snow that hadn’t yet melted.
A small, brown rabbit was edging closer to the carrots, its nose twitching nervously as it hopped closer and paused, still as a soldier. When it reached its prize and hunkered down to feed, Bobbi giggled.
“I guess Dad thinks we still believe in the Easter Bunny.”
Betty nodded in agreement. “Well, that’s because last night he was talking as if it was 1998.”
“I know.” Bobbi glanced at her sister. “I hope he has a good day.”
Betty pushed off from the sink and reached for the back door. “I’ll get rid of the carrots because I’m sure he’ll obsess over them if they’re there when he wakes up. And Bobbi?”
“Yeah?”
“I hope we all have a good day. It’s been a while.”
Bobbi watched her sister walk out the door and clutched her hands tight to her chest. The ever present tears she felt at the back of her eyes were there, just waiting for the chance to fall. But she couldn’t let them.
She wouldn’t let them.
With a quick nod of her head she glanced around and made a mental listt of the things she still needed to do. It was Easter Sunday and though they might not be a religious family, the Barker’s sure loved a good meal. Logan and Billie were coming over and she’d gone ahead and invited Shane’s family. Surprisingly, James and Celia had accepted.
It was too early in the morning to think about all the different ways this day could end. Instead, she decided to focus on the now and maybe when it was time for her to face the past, she’d be ready.
Maybe, this time, she would win.
Chapter Twenty-five