Danielle Steel - Sisters

He saw them walk into the room with smiling faces, and they each kissed him and told him how much it meant to them to have their mother's things. He had kept her wedding ring and engagement ring, which had a very small stone, and put them in a little box on his desk, where he could see them whenever he wanted. He couldn't have parted with them.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Candy said, sitting down next to him, and holding his hand.

They were well aware of how hard it must have been for him to lay her things out and give them away so soon, and what a loving gesture it had been. “You can go through her other things later and see if there's anything you want.” She had had some beautiful handbags, and some lovely clothes, which only Tammy could have worn since she was so small. But there was no rush for that. The jewelry had seemed important to him, as they needed to be together to do it, and he didn't want to wait five months, when they came back for Thanksgiving. It had shaken them to see her things at first, and to help themselves to them, but it had been done in an orderly, loving way. They had been as respectful to each other as they had been to their mother. It was typical of them, and what she had taught them as they grew up, to love each other, with kindness, generosity, and compassion. They had learned the lesson well.

Their father and Chris had ordered dinner while the sisters were looking at the jewelry. They had ordered curry from a nearby Indian restaurant, and it was very good. They chatted over dinner, and for a moment life almost seemed normal as they talked and laughed and teased each other. It was hard to believe they had just divided up their mother's jewelry, buried her that afternoon, and had a funeral for her yesterday. It was all so surreal.

As they cleaned up the kitchen, Tammy realized how much she was going to miss her sisters when she went back to L.A. Despite the sad occasion, she loved being with them. This was where she was happiest, in their midst. And whenever she was with her family, her life in California seemed so distant and without meaning. This was what mattered most to her. It was hard to compare the two worlds, and yet that was where she lived and worked, and what seemed so important when she was there, especially the show she had helped to create and which was so precious to her. But it was nothing compared to all this. She looked at her sisters as they left the kitchen, and Sabrina put an arm around her, and gave her a hug.

“We're going to miss you when you go back. I always do.”

“Me too,” Tammy said sadly. Her life there seemed so empty, without her sisters. Here they shared family meals, she could talk to them at any hour of the day, and their father looked over them benevolently. It reminded her of their childhood, which she thought had been perfect in every way, and so rare. And nothing had changed, except that they all lived all over the world. Or they had—now they'd all be living together, when Annie got out of the hospital, and she'd be living three thousand miles away. But there was no other way. She couldn't give up what she had there. It would have destroyed the career she had worked so hard to build. It was a tough choice for her to make.

The three dogs followed each other out of the kitchen, as the sisters went upstairs. It appeared to be a temporary truce of sorts, but Beulah and Juanita had become best friends in the past few days. Candy's Yorkie Zoe never left her side, or was always sitting on her lap. Juanita and Beulah had taken to sleeping together, and the chihuahua nipped playfully at Beulah's long silky ears. They had even chased a rabbit together in the backyard. They made everybody laugh. Zoe was the most elegant of the trio with a rhinestone collar and pink bows. Juanita was the fiercest, and Chris commented that Beulah hadn't looked depressed since they arrived. He said she needed siblings and clearly didn't like being an only child. Candy promised to send rhinestone collars for the others, which made Chris roll his eyes.

“She's a hunting dog, Candy, not a supermodel.”

“You need to give her a little style,” Candy said with a grin. “That's probably why she's been depressed.” Her old leather collar was faded and worn, and as they said it, the basset looked up and wagged her tail. “See, she knows what I mean. I have a fabulous woman who makes Zoe clothes in Paris. I'll measure Beulah before we leave and get her some stuff.”

“Now I'm getting depressed. You're corrupting our dog,” Chris said firmly. Beulah was the only thing that he and Sabrina officially shared. They had their own apartments, never commingled money, and were careful to keep things separate. As attorneys, they knew the mess it could make otherwise, if they ever broke up. But Beulah was the child they shared. Sabrina always laughed and said they'd need a joint custody agreement for her if they ever split up. Chris had a better idea and would have preferred getting married, if nothing else to protect the dog, he liked to tease her. But marriage just hadn't been in the cards for her so far, and wouldn't be for a while.

“Why not?” Tammy asked her the next day, as they were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee. Everyone else had gone out. Their father and Chris were doing errands, and Candy was checking out a new gym nearby. She said she was falling apart not doing her Pilates for the last week, and she said she was gaining weight, which seemed like good news to all of them. She said her body was turning to mush, or it felt that way to her. Hard to believe at twenty-one.

“I don't know,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “I just can't see myself getting married. I hear such bad stories all day, about how people screw each other over, cheat, used to love each other and messed it all up when they got married. It doesn't make it very appealing, no matter how nice a guy Chris is. They all are in the beginning, and then everything gets fucked up.”

“Look at Mom and Dad,” Tammy pointed out. They were her role models for the perfect marriage. She still wanted one of those, if she ever found a man like their dad. The ones she met in L.A., particularly in show business, were all crazy, players, narcissists, or generally bad guys. She seemed to meet them all. She said she was a magnet for nuts and shits, mostly nuts.

“Yeah, look at Mom and Dad,” Sabrina said, looking glum. “They were perfect together. How could we ever find something like that? It only happens once. Mom used to say that too. She always said how lucky they were. I'm not sure I'd have the same luck, and if I didn't, I'd feel cheated, I don't want anything less. They set the bar pretty high.”

“I think Chris comes pretty close. You found a good one. That's not easy to do. Besides, Mom and Dad worked at it. It didn't just happen. They used to fight when we were kids.”

“Not often. And usually about something we did, that they didn't agree on. Like when I sneaked out at night during the week. Dad thought she should say something and let it go at that. Mom put me on restriction for three weeks. She was a lot tougher than he was.”

“Maybe that's why they got along. But I can't remember them ever having serious fights. Maybe once, when he got drunk on New Year's Eve. I don't think she talked to him for a week.” They both laughed at the memory. Even with a little too much to drink, he had been cute. Their mother had said he embarrassed her with their friends. Neither of them had been a heavy drinker, and none of their daughters was, although they drank more than their parents had. Candy partied harder than the others, but she was still young, and moved in a faster crowd, because of her work. None of the others was out of control, and Candy was still within the norm. They knew Annie smoked dope with her artist friends, but she was so serious about her work, she didn't like getting stoned often. She had done more of it when she was in college, but none of them had substance abuse problems, and neither had their parents. They were a pretty wholesome group. Chris drank more than Sabrina did, and liked his vodka when he went out, but he didn't do it to excess. He seemed like the perfect man to Tammy, particularly compared to the freaks she met.