Bertrand Court Read Online Free PDF Page A

wine straight from the bottle. “This is your show.”
    â€œWell, all right.” Becca stood and placed her hands on her ample hips. “Number one,” she said, snapping the waistband of her flowing skirt, “I go commando every day.
    â€œNumber two, I got poison ivy in my hoo-ha after eating shrooms and galloping around naked in the woods at the summer camp where Adam and I met.”
    â€œHoney, you might regret this tomorrow,” Robin said gently.
    Becca ignored Robin. “Three, I flushed Isaac’s betta down the toilet, but I think it was still alive.”
    Hannah blurted, “You do so wear panties, Becca. The commando thing is the lie.”
    The women turned toward Hannah. Her elbow slipped off the wide arm of the Adirondack chair, and she tried to relocate it. “What? We do hot yoga together,” she said, inciting a round of laughter. “I’ve seen the panties. I’ve seen the hoo-ha too.”
    â€œI’m cutting you off.” Amy reached for Hannah’s bottle, but her sister clutched it to her body. Amy was more startled by Hannah’s drunkenness than she was by Becca’s statements about her lower regions. Becca was a seeker, and over the years she’d persuaded Hannah to study Kabbalah and irrigate her colon, and she was already planning their fortieth-birthday trek to Nepal, even though the milestone was three years off.
    â€œYour turn, Robin,” Becca said.
    Robin stood and unraveled herself from her Pashmina, a muted amber that matched her hair. “Past my bedtime.”
    â€œWimp!” Hannah bellowed.
    â€œI’ve got a patient coming in at seven tomorrow morning,” Robin said.
    Without Robin, Amy thought, things are going to get a little wild and mean. The scent of the smoke in the air was beginning to feel cloying.
    â€œWe’ll fill you in on everyone’s dirt.” Hannah leaned back in her chair and held out her arms to Robin.
    Robin kissed each of the women on the cheek and then walked over to Hannah, squatted down, and placed her palm on Hannah’s cheek. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” She turned to Amy. “Will you make sure she gets home?”
    â€œOf course.” The role of the responsible sibling felt like the puffy down coat her mother had bought her last year for Hanukkah —matronly, but deliciously warm on those cold January walks to the Metro.
    â€œYour turn, Hannah,” Becca said.
    â€œI’m not ready.” Hannah was watching the fire as if she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
    Becca pointed from Amy to Maggie until she stopped triumphantly at Maggie.
    â€œNo, I’m going last,” Maggie said.
    â€œAll right, I’ll go,” Amy said. “Give me one second.” She wanted a cigarette. She thought about revealing that since her father died she couldn’t shake the image of him standing behind her, guiding her through the motion of throwing a baseball. The memory of his hand cupping hers barely loosened the tight knot of tears that she would not, could not, release.
    Amy adjusted her glasses. Here’s the truth she wanted to say: Since their father’s death, she awakened every day feeling freer than ever before. She looked directly at Hannah and opened her mouth.
    â€œI don’t floss every day.”
    â€œDon’t let Robin hear you say that, Amy,” Maggie said.
    â€œNot after all the free cleanings.” Hannah chimed in.
    Becca tapped Amy on the knee. “You can do better, Amy. I told you about my hoo-ha.”
    Amy opened up her mouth to confess: She had a new lover, and he was sweet and solid, and this monogamy thing was kind of nice. Instead: “Two, in high school, I hid my weed in the basement, in one of Hannah’s ice skates.”
    Becca rose from her chair and picked up a poker from behind the pit. She stoked the fire until it spit out a fresh wave of flames.
    â€œI’ve known that for years,