The Pretty One: A Novel About Sisters Read Online Free PDF Page B

out—”
    “It’s fine,” said Perri, inhaling through her nose. As if she were trying not to be mad but not trying all that hard. So everyone would understand the vast burdens shouldered by the Martyrs of This World, such as herself. “All the stores in town are closed. But I might have a few cans of emergency concentrate in the basement freezer. I’ll run down there as soon as I finish cooking for all nine of you!”
    Olympia was tempted to point out that hosting New Year’s brunch had been Perri’s idea. (In years past, the event had taken place at their parents’ house in Hastings-on-Hudson, with Carol playing hostess and chief dispenser of rancid cold cuts.) Olympia also wished to have it noted that, should she have forgotten the requested bagels, Perri would most definitely have gone ballistic. But in the interest of keeping the peace, she kept silent.
    “Speaking of beverages, who’s game for a Bloody Mary?” said Mike. “What about you, Olympia? Hair of the dog never hurt anyone.” He had a can of tomato juice in one hand and a bottle of Absolut in the other.
    “So right you are,” said Olympia, now seated on a tufted ottoman next to the fireplace, leafing through a coffee table book about the great beach houses of the Connecticut Sound. “Just make it a virgin.”
    “Virgin Mary it is,” he noted with a sidelong glance, followedby a wink. “I always assumed Lola was born by immaculate conception.”
    “Read between the lines,” muttered Olympia, her three middle fingers lifted into the air, her eyes still on a boathouse in Old Lyme.
    Just then, a cry came through the baby monitor. “Well, that was the shortest nap in world history,” said Perri, sounding aggrieved yet again as she stomped out of the room in her patent leather flats.
    No one asked you to have three kids, Olympia thought but didn’t say.
    Perri reappeared five minutes later with Noah balanced on her hip. His face was the color of rhubarb; his eyes were as narrow as slits; his hair (what there was of it) was yellow gold. He had the vaguely competitive, vaguely intoxicated expression of someone who’d been playing beer pong until all hours. Which is to say, he looked like a clone of his father. With his fat legs and triple chin, he was also ridiculously cute. “Can you say hi to Grandma?” said Perri, putting the two in striking distance of each other.
    “Gama,” he said, touching Carol’s nose.
    “Hello, bubala,” said Carol, tickling her grandson’s chin. She turned to Perri. “You know, he really has that presidential look.”
    “Except not the current presidential look,” Gus cut in, “since that guy is black.”
    Carol scowled. She and Gus had tension over politics as well, since Gus felt her mother wasn’t sufficiently left-wing.
    “May I?” said Olympia, extending her arms toward her nephew.
    But her older sister had other ideas first. Seemingly out of nowhere, a shot of hand sanitizer appeared on Olympia’s palms. “Sorry—if you don’t mind,” said Perri, smiling meekly. As Olympia dutifully rubbed her palms together, she allowed herself a gentle lift of the eyebrows. Finally, Perri handed him over with a “Here you go!”
    Olympia pressed Noah’s hot cheek into her own, breathed in his nutmeg scent, and found herself longing for another child—and didn’t see how it was possible, financially or otherwise. “Do you know who I am? Can you say ‘Aunt Pia’?” she asked.
    In response, Noah gazed quizzically at his aunt—before inserting a finger up her nose.
    “Hey, buddy, no treasure hunting today,” she said, head flung back to expel the digit.
    There was laughter all around, pleasing Olympia, who liked to be liked by her family more than she liked to admit to herself. Even Perri, not known for her sense of humor and usually repelled by all mention of bodily orifices, chortled heartily and, apparently resisting the urge to whip out more hand sanitizer, mysteriously declared, “Great. I’ve