The Language of Sisters by Cathy Lamb

Author:Cathy Lamb [Lamb, Cathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

The photographer had taken super photos of Leah and her tiny house on wheels. One was of the whole home, flowerpots on the porch. Others were of her loft with her fluffy comforters, her kitchen, her living space, and her flower paintings. The last photo was a picture of Leah sitting outside reading in front of her tiny home and old blue truck, a lantern nearby, the sunset spreading behind her, on fire with cotton candy pinks, tomato reds, and swirling purples.

Ricki came by the morning after she saw the photos. “Leah made me want to chuck everything and buy a small house and drive it from Alaska to Florida, like her.”

“You couldn’t,” I told her.

“Why? I could be outdoorsy. Fish. Hunt. I could learn how to use a lantern. I could learn how to be quiet in nature.”

“There would be no room for your shoes.”

Ricki grimaced. “Now that would be a problem. Megaprob-lem. Insurmountable problem.” She snapped her fingers. “Maybe I could have the tiny house, and pull it with my new bright red truck, and inside the truck I could have boxes and boxes of my shoes.”

“I don’t think that’s the point of tiny-house-on-wheels living.” I mused. “And what about your handbags?”

She puzzled that one out. She snapped her fingers again. “That guy I’m dating. He could follow me in another truck, and that truck could hold the handbags and clothes.”

“I think you’re set then, Ricki.”

“Me too. I like being a cougar.”

“You’re not a cougar. Men aren’t called cougars for going after younger women, so why do you have to have an animalistic label because your boyfriend is younger?”

“True. But we call men who go after much younger women lechers. Or midlife crisis creeps. Or dirty old men. Or pathetic. Or victims of young women who want them only for their money. Personally, I’d rather be called a cougar than that. Cougars are sleek, dangerous, smart. Me.”

“You have me there. I’d take the cougar title over midlife crisis creep any day.”

“He is chocolate chip cookie batter to me, though.” She turned. “Want to get a drink after work?”

“You betcha.”

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