The Wilder Sisters by Jo-Ann Mapson

Author:Jo-Ann Mapson [Mapson, Jo-Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Literary
ISBN: 9780061757556
Google: yARNXb3Y55IC
Amazon: B000OYEWLU
Publisher: Harper Collins
Published: 2009-10-12T16:00:00+00:00

He left the storeroom, and Rose sat down hard on the floor in her black jeans, mentally cussing him. The pants were size six Calvins, one full size smaller than what she usually wore. Until this week they’d been tucked into a far corner of the bureau drawer that used to be Philip’s, but she’d lost weight from not eating regular meals, and now they fit her again. She was wearing a new Liz Claiborne shirt, plaid with muted pinks and dove gray, featuring a thin stripe of black that complemented the jeans. Unlike most of her clothes, which were loose and serviceable, this shirt was fitted, the fabric clung close to her breasts, the cut emphasized her waist, and when she looked at herself in the dressing-room mirror she was absolutely shocked at how attractive she looked. The hell with what Lily and Amanda said about the outlet stores, for $19.95, this shirt was a real find. She sniffed the cuff, pulled it back and smelled her wrist. No scent there but her regular old self. Either Austin’s sobriety had heightened his senses or he was lying in order to manipulate her into going to the rodeo. Well, if she went, which would only be to check on his possible concussion, she would remain steadfastly out of reach, her newly developed shields all the way up. After that night with the polvos, Rose had decided that love and all its trappings were ridiculous, something for young people who didn’t yet know better, which she certainly did. She put the candles on a shelf in the kitchen pantry in case of electrical failure, tucked the powders into a drawer, and tried to forget the whole embarrassing episode with the curandera.

Upstairs in her office she began to tidy up the week’s invoices so she could go home with a clear conscience. Just as she reached for her purse, the phone rang. It was Mami. “Have you heard from your sister?” she asked.

“I thought Lily was at the ranch with you and Pop.”

Mami hedged. “Oh, probably she’s around here somewhere.

Forget I asked. How are you, mija? You never call your mother.”

You’re never home, Rose wanted to say. You’re either in your Cessna 150 flying track dogs to freedom or you’re gallivanting around in fancy clothes making infomercials. I’m where I always am, nine to five; you know where you can find me if you want to talk so badly. Rose knew full well that this line of attack indicated something was up with Lily. Something not quite right. Mami’s free spirit would never admit to outright alarm, but deep down she was a mother or she wouldn’t have called. “What happened? Did you two have a fight?”

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