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A tinkling of dishware and a murmur of voices filtered up to the bedroom in Sadie and Grant’s house where Ginny had been staying for the past few months.

Some part of her knew the sounds meant something, but they fluttered through her dulled consciousness like butterflies refusing to land.

She remained balled up in her bed, trying to make sense of yet another night of maddening dreams.

She’d lost the house, so why did she keep dreaming about Nico? Nico walking toward her with his sexy gait; Nico’s sure hands feeling her ankle for breaks; Nico looking adorably out-of-place on a breezy mountaintop; Nico kneeling before her and taking her hand…

It wasn’t enough that he had betrayed her—her own subconscious had to betray her too, over and over again!

Someone knocked lightly on the bedroom door.

“Yes?” Ginny said, so softly they might not even hear her.

“It’s Sunday Sister Brunch,” Sadie said through the door, her voice gentle and sweet. “Grant is about to dish up.”

“Oh. Right,” Ginny replied in a mumble. That explained the sounds. For a half moment, she considered going downstairs, but Grant and Sadie would be so chipper and lovey-dovey, and Monique would be so…Monique. “I’m not feeling great. You go ahead and I’ll join you in a bit.”

There was silence from the hall, and Ginny thought Sadie had tip-toed away, but then she saw the doorknob turning. She rolled over to face the wall, feeling like a little kid faking illness to skip school. She felt Sadie sit down on the edge of the bed.

“Hey, big sis,” Sadie said softly. She rubbed Ginny’s foot through the blanket twisted round it. “It’s been two months since…it happened…and other than cleaning properties and taking care of the dogs, you’re like a snail crawling deeper into your shell.”

“If only,” Ginny said. “Somebody smashed my snail house to pieces.”

There was an even longer pause before Sadie said, her voice as tentative as someone reaching to touch something that might be hot, “I know, but…this isn’t like you.”

Ginny rolled partway over to glare at her uncomprehending sister. “I lost everything but the dogs, Sadie.”

“No, no, not that. You have every right to be sad, or mad, or whatever you feel about that. It’s just… you’re letting him win .”

Ginny started to reply, but ended up blinking up at the ceiling, astonished at the truth of it.

Not only was moping through her days letting him win, but it was the very thing she’d promised herself she’d never let him do.

She flipped the rest of the way over till she was facing Sadie. “I am, aren’t I?”

Sadie bobbed her head up and down, her strawberry-blonde curls shimmering in the late morning light.

“It’s just not like you. You’re the strongest, most independent person I know.

..” She laughed lightly. “…and I know Monique . Losing a house – as much as I know it meant to you—would only fuel Ginny Heppner’s fire.

Is there something else going on here you haven’t told us? ”

Ginny swallowed. She’d been beyond furious over the smashing of her house, and she’d grieved it too, hard.

But eventually, it felt like she’d accepted that loss.

It was only a thing, after all, an object (or a collection of them).

She’d even thought she would be ready soon to find a new place to start fixing up.

But then the nightly dreams of Nico had started, and her emotional recovery had taken a giant leap backwards.

Should she tell Sadie about her dreams? About how they’d kissed?

About their promises to see each other again?

Ordinarily, she would have after two months.

She and Sadie never kept secrets for very long, but she’d held tightly to this one.

Telling Sadie now seemed both pointless and asking for trouble, because she’d never have anything more to do with Nico, and she’d definitely transgressed the spinster pact.

Plus, it was embarrassing having been so easily taken in by such a smooth-talking cad.

Great Aunt Lydia must be rolling in her grave.

She detangled the blanket from her legs and got up, forcing Sadie to stand in the process.

“There’s nothing else,” she said simply.

“But you’re right. I have been letting him win.

I’m done hiding.” She grabbed the bathrobe Sadie had lent her and slipped it on before heading toward the door.

“Is that pancakes I smell? I’m starving. ”

Monique and Grant sat waiting for them at the table by the kidney-shaped pool.

Mick, Jack, and Annie lay on the other side of the sparkling water, their dripping fur making doggy-shaped dark spots on the brick surround.

Unbeknownst to Ginny, her street mutts were really water dogs.

They looked up languidly at Ginny, offering up a few soft “woofs” of greeting before returning to their basking.

Hollywood was treating them well .

Grant was his usual relaxed and contented self, but Ginny detected relief in his eyes when she appeared. Apparently, he’d been worried about her too.

Also as usual, Monique was dressed as if her next stop after brunch was the 400-meter Olympic relay.

As Grant brought out a platter piled with inch-thick pancakes, Ginny decided to do something nice for her oldest sister.

Monique had, after all, let Ginny and her dogs stay with her for three whole days before she’d moved to Sadie and Grants’ place.

Ginny was also in a mood to test her resolve as a winner—someone who could deal with anything.

She threw caution to the wind and asked her big sister how her running was going.

Monique smiled in surprise before releasing a firehose of information about the tweaks she’d made to her complicated monthly exercise schedule and the latest exciting developments in EVA foam soles.

It was just the sort of detail-infested lecture Ginny would ordinarily have put a quick stop to through a series of increasingly snarky remarks.

Instead, as a thank you, Ginny sat there feigning interest and feeling magnanimous as she drowned cloud-fluffy pancakes in syrup and gulped down iced coffee.

In the end, it was Sadie who, when Monique made the mistake of breathing, jumped in. “Let’s do the toast.”

Monique looked startled for a second. “Oh, sorry, yes. I get a little excited about my running.”

“I don’t mind,” Grant said. “I always learn so much from you. Maybe after breakfast you could take a look at the wear pattern on my new running shoes? I think I may be pronating more in them than with my old ones.”

“I’d be happy to,” Monique said.

The sisters lifted whatever beverage they were working on and said, in unison, “To Mom and Dad.”

“And we might as well do the spinster pact too,” Monique said. “No dates for me.”

Ginny wondered whether dreams counted as dating but quickly decided they did not. Plus, having romantic feelings for Nico would not count as winning, and so therefore she didn’t have any feelings whatsoever for Nico.

Suddenly, they were all looking at her expectantly. “What? Sheesh, I’ve been taking turns living with you guys for weeks. You know I'm not dating anyone.”

“It took you a while to answer,” Sadie said.

Ginny gave them all a coy look. “That’s because…

well…there is someone who’s been on my mind…

” Sadie and Grant leaned forward while Monique noticeably stiffened.

This was just the response Ginny expected.

“Ohhh, yes,” she said with a sexy lilt. “He’s got the biggest brown eyes, and he rubs his butt all over the carpets. ”

Grant and Sadie let out a laugh. “Mick!”

“It’s good to have you back,” Grant said, lifting a glass in toast to her.

Monique made a disgusted face. “I had all my rugs cleaned the day you moved out and came here.”

“I am sorry about the dogs,” Ginny said to her hosts. “They can be a lot.”

“Are you kidding?” Grant said, “I’m a dog person. I love them.”

Sadie rested her chin on one hand and scrunched up her face. “Don’t get me wrong—we love having you stay with us—but I’m more of a ceramic dog person. Though I am looking forward to getting brand new carpets out of the deal once you do find your own place.”

“Carpets?” Monique said with almost as much disdain as she’d shown for the dogs. “Hardwood floors and Persian rugs would be a much better investment.”

Sadie sat up straight and clapped her hands giddily. “Oh, yes! What a great idea! Don’t you think so, Grant?”

He kissed her on the cheek. “If it will make you happy, my love, it will make me happy.”

Sadie gave him a peck on the lips. “You make me happy.”

“No, you do,” he said, his voice lowering.

Monique smacked both hands onto the table’s edge loud enough it startled the dogs. “Okay, okay. Enough with the domestic bliss.”

“Yeah, and I could do with a lot less discussion of home improvements?” Ginny added.

Sadie stuck the barest tip of her tongue out at Monique but sent sympathetic eyes toward Ginny. “Sorry, sweetie.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Sadie reached across the table and poked Monique’s hand playfully. “Speaking of which, don’t you have something to tell Ginny?”

Monique pulled her hand away, frowning. “No.”

“Something about work ?” Sadie pressed.

Monique added head shaking to her frown. “There was something you said I should tell her but, in my personal opinion, it’s not a good idea.”

Sadie poked Ginny’s hand next. “Don’t you want to know about this thing that happened at Monique’s work?”

Ginny one-shoulder shrugged. “Not particularly.” She’d heard enough about Monique’s life already at this brunch.

Monique ran a finger along the edge of her unused butter knife. “It’s about Nico. Do you really not care?”

“I care even less if it’s about that evil jerk.” But even as she said the words, Ginny felt her heart beat faster.