Between Sisters Read Online Free PDF

their number down to four. They'd each missed a year now and then, but for the most part, they met there year after year. At first they'd been young and wild and driven to pick up local boys. Gradually, as they'd started dragging bassinets and car seats with them, the vacation had settled down a bit. Now that the kids were old enough to swim and play on the playground alone, the girls—women—had refound a slice of their previous freedom.
    “Mom
my
. You're spacing out.”
    “Oh. Sorry, honey.”
    “I
said
, we get the honeymoon cabin this year, remember?” She bounced even harder in her seat. “
Yippee!
We get the big bathtub. And this year I get to jump off the dock, don't forget. You
promised
. Bonnie got to jump when she was five.” Alison sighed dramatically and crossed her arms. “Can I jump off the dock or not?”
    Claire wanted to go against her overprotective nature, but when you'd grown up in a house where your Mama allowed
anything
, you learned fast how easy it was to get hurt. It made you afraid. “Let's see the dock, okay? And we'll see how you're swimming. Then we'll see.”
    “‘We'll see' always means no. You
promised
.”
    “I did not promise. I remember it distinctly, Alison Katherine. We were in the water; you were on my back, with your legs wrapped around me. We were watching Willie and Bonnie jump into the water. You said, ‘Next year I'll be five.' And I said, ‘Yes, you will.' And you pointed out that Bonnie was five. I pointed out that she was almost six.”
    “I'm almost six.” Alison crossed her arms. “I'm jumping.”
    “We'll see.”
    “You're not the boss of me.”
    Claire always laughed at that. Lately it was her daughter's favorite comeback. “Oh, yes I am.”
    Alison turned her face toward the window. She was quiet for a long time—almost two minutes. Finally, she said, “Marybeth threw Amy's clay handprint in the toilet last week.”
    “Really? That wasn't very nice.”
    “I know. Mrs. Schmidt gave her a
long
time-out. Did you bring my skateboard?”
    “No, you're too young to ride it.”
    “Stevie Wain rides his all the time.”
    “Isn't that the boy who fell and broke his nose and knocked out two front teeth?”
    “They were
baby
teeth, Mommy. He said they were loose anyway. How come Aunt Meg never comes to visit us?”
    “I've told you this before, remember? Aunt Meg is so busy she hardly has time to breathe.”
    “Eliot Zane turned blue when he didn't breathe. The amb'lance came to get him.”
    “I didn't mean that. I just meant Meg is superbusy helping people.”
    “Oh.”
    Claire steeled herself for her daughter's next question. There was
always
a next question with Alison, and you could never predict what it would be.
    “Is this the desert already?”
    Claire nodded. Her daughter always called eastern Washington the desert. It was easy to see why. After the lush green of Hayden, this yellow-and-brown landscape seemed desolate and scorched. The black ribbon of asphalt stretched forever through the prairie.
    “There's the water slide!” Alison said at last. She leaned forward, counting out loud. When she got to forty-seven, she yelled, “There's the lake!”
    Lake Chelan filled their view to the left, a huge crystal-blue lake tucked into a golden hillside. They drove over the bridge that led into town.
    Two decades ago, this town had been less than three blocks long, without a national franchise to be found. But over time, word of the weather had spread west, to those soggy coastal towns that so prized their plate-size rhododendrons and car-size ferns. Gradually, Seattleites turned their attention eastward. It became a summer tradition, the trek across the mountains toward the flat, scorched plains. As the tourists came, so did the development. Condominium complexes sprouted along the water's edge. As one filled up, another was built beside it, and so on and so on, until, at the millennium, this was a thriving vacation destination, with all the