Brayden, Melissa - How Sweet It Is

“So that was little sister?” Eden began the process of moving warm oatmeal cookies from the silver tray in her hands to the display case.

“Uh-huh.”

Eden whistled low and Molly regarded her with a long look.

“What? What does that mean? Explain your pointed whistling.”

“Well, she’s ridiculously dreamy is all. Strikingly beautiful. A looker. I see what Summer’s been going on about now.” Eden picked up the empty tray and sauntered back into the kitchen.

But something about the comment didn’t sit well with Molly and she was forced by an act of nature to follow. She pushed open the swinging door and sidled up next to Eden at the sink where she stood washing the tray.

“What do you mean? What did Summer say exactly?” She tried her best to be nonchalant, but wasn’t sure how effective she was. So she picked up a mixing bowl and began to wash. Keeping busy would help.

Eden paused in the midst of washing. “Would take less time to tell you what she didn’t say, if you catch my drift. Can’t say I blame her. I’m straight as the day is long, but I know a gorgeous woman when I see one, and trust me, I just saw one.”

“So you’re saying Summer’s interested ? In Jordan.”

Eden threw her a curious glance. “That’s what I’m saying. I’m also saying that if you scrub that bowl any harder, we’re gonna have a plate on our hands.”

“Huh?”

Eden turned the water off. “It’s clean. Give me that.” She placed the bowl on the top shelf of the cabinet and turned back to Molly. “You don’t like this at all. Just look at you, all worked up and steely eyed.”

“What? No. Summer and Jordan can do as they please. I was just curious about the gossip. You always seem to have it all before me. Never fair. How are we doing on apple scones?”

“We’re fine. Are you?”

Molly settled in atop the small stepladder. “Of course I am. Jordan is capable of making her own decisions. But if you must know, I happen to think that Summer is all wrong for her and I can’t help but feel, I don’t know, protective.” Molly sighed. “Jordan needs someone caring, someone sensitive who gets her and will let her be who she is. Summer’s about as warm and cuddly as a pit viper, and that might even be generous.”

Eden grinned at her widely, knowingly even, and it was annoying. “If you say so.”

“I do. And don’t look at me like that.”

Eden snapped her on the backside with a dishtowel as she passed. “You’re a complicated woman, Molly O’Brien. But it certainly keeps things interesting around here.”

*

It was after eight when Jordan made it home from Molly’s place. Thank God daylight was holding on longer now that they were into spring. The shutters looked great if she did say so herself. It was entirely possible she had a future in home repair. Her arms were a bit sore from painting, and it was plausible she wore home a higher percentage of the dusty blue paint than was actually on the shutters themselves, but it was a worthy cause.

Molly hadn’t made an appearance, but it was probably for the best. Watching her glammed up and hopeful as she headed out for the evening with some random woman was a memory she could live without. Though she did hope for Molly’s sake that the evening went well. She deserved to be happy, more than anyone she knew. She wanted that for her.

“Hey there, sweetie. You’re looking especially…blue.” Her mom grinned at her own joke as she stood in front of the microwave heating something in a small dish. No doubt her dinner. She was still wearing her scrubs, which indicated she hadn’t been home from the clinic long.

“Yeah, it’s a new look I’m trying out. I call it Shutter Smurf. No Dad tonight?”

“He’ll be along shortly. Mr. Rubenstein stopped in after closing with pain in his heel. Might be that bone spur acting up again. Your father agreed to stay and take a look.”

“Nice of him.”

“Some warmed up spaghetti?” Her mother held up the Tupperware bowl from the microwave. She looked tired. The day must have been a long one for her, as were most. Her parents had opened the one and only medical clinic in Applewood eighteen years prior and gave generously of their time to the members of the community. One of the many things she admired about them.

“Give me about thirty minutes and I’ll gladly arm wrestle you for some of that, but I think I need a quick shower first.” She pushed off the counter and started in the direction of the hall.

“Jordan, before you go…”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll notice I put a box in front of your bed with some things for you to go through.”

“No problem.”

“Some things of Cassie’s. We held on to them for you, just in case.”

Jordan nodded appreciatively, but didn’t say anything because the lump in her throat was in the way.

Her mother’s face softened in understanding. “Take some time and see if there’s anything you might want to keep for yourself. No rush.”

And there it was.

That sinking feeling she got whenever she allowed her mind to acknowledge the accident. It was like all the color in the room faded at the reality check. However, she did her damndest to push through it. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”

But fifteen minutes later, as she sat on the floor of her childhood bedroom, wet hair from the shower dripping on the carpet, the box a few feet away was a little too daunting. So instead of moving through the items in the box, she stared at it, letting her thoughts travel where they may.

The soccer ball peeking out from on top was familiar to her right off. But it hadn’t technically been Cassie’s. It was hers, on loan to her sister from the night before Cassie’d left for college in Chicago so many years before.

That night was still so incredibly vivid in her memory. She had been fourteen then and it had been warm out, one of the last lingering days of summer. She was sad at the thought of Cassie leaving home, which had manifested itself into despondency. She’d never been good at dealing with heavy emotion. So instead of sitting around the kitchen table and having one last dinner with her family before Cassie left for school, she’d taken her ball, and without permission, headed to the soccer field at the high school.

The daylight was fading as dusk shifted to night, but she could still make out the lines on the field as she practiced her footwork. Anything not to think about the next day, and what life would be like at home from here forward. Her brother had moved out two years prior, but it hadn’t carried the same weight. The age difference was wider, and her relationship with Cassie was, well, different. They did stuff together, played soccer, watched movies, hung out. Okay, sometimes she annoyed Cassie when Molly or her friends were around, but in the scheme of things, that was no big deal.

She’d be all alone now.

Maybe she was acting childish, feeling sorry for herself, whatever. But she couldn’t help it. As she dribbled, she felt the tears touch her eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of the ball.”

She paused and turned at the sound of the voice. “What?”

Cassie stood a few yards behind her, arms folded as she watched, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Stop doing that. You always get ahead and it screws up your control. If you want to make varsity this year, you have to work off of technique, not just speed and tenacity.”

No longer alone, she swallowed the emotion and quickly swiped at her cheek to erase any evidence of shed tears. “Yeah, well, we can’t all start our freshman year.”

“And that’s the second thing that’s going to get in your way.”