Page 5

Of course one of the nannies is there. God forbid she should have to do anything for herself. “Oh, Daphne, that would be so great. Can I bring anything?”
“No, just yourself. See you soon.”
When Amber pulled up to the house, she got out her phone and texted Daphne:I’m here. Didn’t want to ring and wake the girls.
The door opened, and Daphne motioned her in. “How thoughtful of you to text first.”
“Thanks for having me over.” Amber handed her a bottle of red wine.
Daphne hugged her. “Thank you, but you shouldn’t have.”
Amber shrugged. It was a cheap merlot, eight bucks at the liquor store. She knew Daphne would never drink it.
“Come on.” Daphne led her into the sunroom, where there was already a bottle of wine open and two half-filled glasses on the coffee table.
“Have you had dinner?”
Amber shook her head. “No, but I’m not really hungry.” She sat, picked up a wineglass, and took a small sip. “This is very nice.”
Daphne sat down, picked up her own glass, and held it up.
“Here’s to our sisters who live on in our hearts.”
Amber touched her glass to Daphne’s and took another swallow. She brushed a nonexistent tear from her eye.
“I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a basket case.”
Daphne shook her head. “Of course not. It’s okay. You can talk about it to me. Tell me about her.”
Amber paused. “Charlene was my best friend. We shared a room, and we’d talk late into the night about what we were going to do when we grew up and got out of that house.” She frowned and took another long sip of her wine. “Our mother used to throw a shoe at the door if she thought we were up too late. We’d whisper so she wouldn’t hear us. We’d tell each other everything. All our dreams, our hopes...”
Daphne kept quiet while Amber continued, but her beautiful blue eyes filled with compassion.
“She was golden. Everybody loved her, but it didn’t go to her head, you know? Some kids, they would have become bratty, but not Char. She was beautiful, on the inside and out. People would just stare at her when we were out, that’s how gorgeous she was.” Amber hesitated and cocked her head. “Sort of like you.”
A nervous laugh escaped from Daphne’s lips. “I would hardly say that about myself.”
Yeah, right, Amber thought. “Beautiful women take it for granted. They can’t see what everyone else does. My parents used to joke that she got the beauty, and I got the brains.”
“How cruel. That’s terrible, Amber. You are a beautiful person—inside and out.”
It was almost too easy, Amber thought—get a bad haircut, leave off the makeup, don a pair of eyeglasses, slouch your shoulders, and voilà! Poor homely girl was born. Daphne needed to save someone, and Amber was happy to oblige. She smiled at Daphne.
“You’re just saying that. It’s okay. Not everyone has to be beautiful.” She picked up a photo of Tallulah and Bella, this one in a cloth frame. “Your daughters are gorgeous too.”
Daphne’s face lit up. “They’re great kids. I’m extremely blessed.”
Amber continued to study the photograph. Tallulah looked like a little adult with her serious expression and hideous glasses, while Bella, with her blond curls and blue eyes, looked like a little princess. There was going to be a lot of rivalry in their future, Amber thought. She wondered how many boyfriends Bella would steal from her plain older sister when they were teenagers.
“Do you have a picture of Julie?”
“Of course.” Daphne got up and retrieved a photograph from the console table. “Here she is,” she said, handing the frame to Amber.
Amber stared at the young woman, who must have been around fifteen when the picture was taken. She was beautiful in an almost otherworldly way, her big brown eyes bright and shining.
“She’s lovely,” Amber said, looking up at Daphne. “It doesn’t get any easier, does it?”
“No, not really. Some days it’s even harder.”