The Glass Kitchen Read Online Free PDF Page A

had made her daughters promise that no matter where they were or how angry they were at each other at the time, if one of them needed the other, they would be there. No questions asked.
    Which meant Portia knew what would happen next.
    Cordelia sailed into the apartment like a perfectly dressed mother duck, not a hair out of place on her head, her subtle hints of makeup perfectly done, her blue eyes alert, determined as she set her expensive handbag on a chair.
    At thirteen, Cordelia had perfected the jaundiced arrogance of a girl who believed she had all the answers. At thirty-five, Cordelia still felt she had all the answers. Where Olivia had always been considered the passionate sister, the oldest Cuthcart girl never showed any sort of emotion at all.
    “We saw the news,” Portia said. “Is everything okay with James?”
    Cordelia’s always stiff upper lip trembled.
    “Jesus, Cordie,” Olivia stated with all the calm certainty that there was no problem too big to be solved. “Is James getting arrested?”
    “Olivia,” Portia barked, just as Cordelia blurted, “No!”
    Portia sagged. “What a relief.”
    “Not a relief,” Cordelia stated. “He wasn’t a party to the bad deals, but part of the two billion dollars was every penny of our life savings.”
    Cordelia stood there in her cashmere and pearls, her standard uniform for all the charity work she did in the city, tears in her eyes.
    Portia wrapped her arms around Cordelia. Olivia just stood there. Portia gave her a look, after which Olivia gave a silent sigh, then came over and joined the hug.
    “I am not crying,” Cordelia stated, even as tears rolled.
    “Of course not,” Portia said.
    “Nope, not you,” Olivia added.
    They stood that way for a few seconds, their hearts beating nearly as one until Portia broke the spell. “Stop stepping on my toes, Olivia.”
    Olivia burst out laughing. “I knew you couldn’t take more than a few seconds of hugging.”
    “I can take hugging, Olivia. You’re the one who can’t take it. That’s why you stepped on my toes.”
    But then they turned back to Cordelia.
    “You’re going to be okay,” Portia said.
    “Absolutely,” Olivia added.
    Cordelia stepped away, smoothed her bob, straightened her blouse, and drew a deep breath. “I love you guys,” she whispered, and quickly cleared her throat. “It really is okay. But I’m stressed and I can’t show it in front of James.”
    If Olivia was like a decadent chocolate-covered strawberry, and Portia a pineapple-and-spice hummingbird cupcake, then Cordelia was peanut brittle, still sweet, though with something more substantial added by way of peanuts, but unbendable.
    “James says it’ll be fine. So it will be.” She raised her chin. “I’m sure it’s not every cent of our life’s savings. I’m overreacting, which is childish.” Tears welled once more; Cordelia drew a deep breath and shook them away. “I just needed to let it out, then see that it isn’t so dire. I couldn’t do that at home.”
    Portia shot Olivia a quick glance, but she didn’t say what she was thinking—that Cordelia always put a good face on a bad situation.
    Cordelia caught sight of the food in the little kitchen, then turned and stared at the wooden stools around the island, the plates, the flowers. But when Olivia caught Cordelia’s eye and raised a brow, Cordelia looked away. Portia had asked her oldest sister once why she hated the knowing so much that she generally pretended it didn’t exist. Cordelia had dismissed the question out of hand. But Portia still wondered.
    The three of them pulled up around the makeshift table and served each other plates piled high with Portia’s feast. No one mentioned the unspoken question hanging in the air. Who was the last seat for? Instead, Portia and Olivia caught up on every bit of Texas gossip until Cordelia was able to breathe again, quickly turning back into the oldest sister.
    “It’s time to talk. I’m not the only one