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Regan snorts. “You should know better. Paisley is the perpetual know it all after all.”
“Girls,” Mom berates. “Be nice.”
“I’m not the one who refuses to provide drinks to her guests,” Darcy says.
“You’re not a guest. A guest is invited. You showed up uninvited.”
Regan groans. “Talking to a robot would be easier.”
“You. Are. Not. A. Guest,” Darcy mimics a robot, and they dissolve into giggles.
This is my childhood all over again. Since the moment Mom married Conrad, Darcy and Regan teased and tortured me. They never bothered to try and get along with me. I was five years old and they didn’t try to be nice.
I sigh and push my glasses up my nose.
“Uh oh. She’s fiddling with her nerdy glasses,” Regan says between giggles.
I drop my hand with a growl. I open my mouth to argue with them about my glasses but what’s the use? If it’s not my glasses, it’ll be my looks or my clothes or my job or my house or literally anything. They can always find a reason to make fun of me.
I check the time. “I have an appointment.”
“She has an appointment,” Regan says in a stilted voice.
I bite my tongue before I tell them my voice doesn’t resemble a robot. But I don’t want to be pulled into their antics. I want nothing to do with them.
If they won’t leave, I will.
“I’m going to say hi to Luna and Emma.” I start for the door.
“But we haven’t had a chance to catch up yet,” Regan says.
“Catch up?”
Why would I want to catch up with them? We see each other on birthdays and holidays. In between those times, we have no contact with each other. I’m not even allowed to babysit my nieces. And if I happen upon my stepfather anywhere on the island, he pretends I don’t exist.
“You do know what catch up is, don’t you?” Darcy asks.
“She’s smart but her social skills...” Regan shakes her head.
I tap my foot. “Can you get to the point of your visit?”
“We’re wondering how you’re doing,” Darcy says.
“Yes. It must have been hard when your brewery was destroyed during the hurricane.”
I narrow my eyes on Regan. “The hurricane happened over a month ago.”
And they didn’t lift a hand to help or offer any sympathy at the time. While nearly all of the inhabitants of Smuggler’s Rest showed up to help us remove the debris, my family was absent. As usual.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Mom says. “I wanted to come but…” She trails off with a wave of her hand.
“But Conrad forbade it.”
I hate how my stepfather controls her. He berates her and denigrates her but she remains devoted to him. I have no idea why. I would never let a man treat me the way he treats her.
“Yes, well,” Mom glances away. She knows how I feel about Conrad.
“Not all of us want to be alone forever,” Regan sneers.