Chapter One

Lexi

It’s a Summer sister tradition that on the first Saturday of each month, the six of us get together. We take turns picking the location or activity, anything from margaritas and a movie to wine and painting classes at the small gallery uptown. One thing, though, is as certain as the sun rising over the Chesapeake Bay every morning: there will be alcohol involved.

Always.

Pumpkins and turkeys and wooden signs about being thankful cover every wall and flat surface inside the salon I call home five days a week. Thanksgiving looms in just a few weeks, and I’m not even close to being in the holiday spirit. My life is a mess, of that I’m sure, and I just can’t seem to get it together enough to care about the one holiday where you focus on all that you’re thankful for.

Sad, isn’t it?

Like many nights, I’m surrounded by laughter. Two of my sisters, Abby and Jaime, each sit at my side, our feet soaking in warm, fragrant water in pedicure chairs. Meghan and Payton both sit at one of the manicure desks, while AJ has her shoulders worked over at the massage table. Of course, it wouldn’t be a sisters’ night without booze. Tonight, we’re each holding red solo cups with fruity rum and pineapple juice concoctions. They’re yummy and provide just enough buzz to take my mind off the drama in my life.

But we don’t need to go there yet.

Tonight, we’ve taken over Hair Haven. I’m one of four stylists at the busiest salon in town. Home is Jupiter Bay, a small, friendly place in Virginia along the Chesapeake Bay, where everyone knows you and your business. During the summer months, we become a tourist trap with easy access to beaches, waterfront condos, and hotels to make your stay more comfortable.

You heard me mention my sisters, and damn, there are a lot of us. Six, to be exact. The oldest is Payton. At thirty-three, my eldest sister has finally found her happiness. She lives with her boyfriend, Dean, and his six-year-old daughter, Brielle. Payton plays with flowers all day at the flower shop she owns, Blossoms and Blooms, while Dean is an accountant at one of the best accounting firms in town. They’ve started the adoption process, and I’m so excited for Payton to officially become Brielle’s mom. Earlier in the year, she informed us all that she was diagnosed with PCOS, or polycystic ovarian syndrome, and her chances for conceiving a child naturally was slim to none. She’s keeping her head up, though, and focusing on what she has, instead of what she doesn’t.

Next comes Jaime. At thirty-one, she works at Addie’s Place, a local nonprofit organization that helps kids who are less fortunate with after-school care. They do everything from homework to movies, to just playing outside. It’s a great organization that many of us didn’t even really know about until she delivered flowers there one afternoon and fell in love with the place. Jaime’s engaged to Ryan, a construction contractor, and their wedding plans for this spring are in full swing.

Third in line is AJ, or Alison Jane as her birth certificate states. She teaches math at the junior high and is the cheer coach. At twenty-eight, AJ’s been through her fair share of frogs and remains single. It’s not that she hasn’t tried to find her Prince Charming. I think she’s looking in all the wrong places. You know, bars and beach parties. Like me, AJ likes the bad boys, and usually finds herself disappointed or with a broken heart.

Then there’s Meghan. Oh sweet, brokenhearted Meghan. Earlier this year, Meg lost her fiancé in a car crash. It was devastating for her, as well as our entire family, who all loved Josh from the moment we met him. He was pure goodness and treated her like she walked on water. Watching her grieve the loss has been especially hard in light of what’s happening on my home front. I actually had the wedding, have the house and husband, and don’t want any of it anymore.

Meg will be okay; I know it. She has the love and support of her family who will make sure that she gets up every day and smiles as much as she can. That’s our goal: to wipe away the tears and replace them with more smiles.

Finally, there’s Abby. She’s my twin, older by six minutes. We may look the same, but we’re as different as night and day. Abby’s quiet, shy, reserved, and I’m, well, not. She’s dating her best friend, Levi. (It’s about damn time.) These two have been pussyfooting around it for so long, we all thought they’d never get their heads out of their asses.

Abby is an editor for a major publishing house in New York and works from home. I used to be jealous of the friendship they’ve had since we were ten years old, but not anymore. Abby and Levi have been in love with each other before they knew what love was, and while their time with each other would take her away from me, I realized that their relationship was inevitable. Like the sun setting and the stars shining. They fought it; Lord help us all, they fought hard. But in the end, their love was too powerful.

Abby is my best friend. My other half. The six of us are all close, but nothing compares to the bond Abby and I share. It probably comes from sharing such tight living quarters for almost nine months.

In a way, I’m still jealous of her. Not in a vindictive or petty way, but more out of love. She found her soul mate, the person she’s going to spend the rest of her life with. No, that doesn’t mean Levi slid a ring on her finger–yet. But it’s coming. Even though they’ve only been a couple for a few months, it’s happening sooner rather than later. My jealousy stems from the fact that I thought I had found that. I believed I was marrying my best friend, the person I was going to grow old with, have babies with, and rock in chairs on the front porch with when we were old and gray.

I was wrong.

“When are we going dress shopping?” AJ asks Jaime.

“Right after the new year. There’s no way I’m interested in battling the holiday shoppers right now,” Jaime replies with a groan as Ella, our newest stylist, massages the soles of her feet. “That feels so wonderful. Will you come home with me and do this every night?”

“Kinky. I didn’t realize Ryan was into that kinda thing,” I quip with a smile. The alcohol definitely makes me feel no pain.

“Not that kinda thing. I don’t share my toys, Lex.” Jaime laughs.

“Neither does Abby,” AJ says with a mischievous grin. I knew someone would bring it up. We’ve been teasing her about Levi’s penis piercing since we found out about it last month. We make sure to embarrass her as much as humanly possible.

And for the record, no I’m not really interested in seeing it. Even though I might tell her I am, he’s like my brother and that would just be gross. Throw in the fact that we found out about it from our Grandma, and you’ve got a story legends are made from.

“Here we go,” Abby groans, her feet soaking in the tub and her back being massaged by the chair.

“Seriously, Abs. We just want details about it. It’s not every day you find out someone has an Apa,” Payton chimes in, her fingernails drying beneath the lamp.

“Agreed. I did some research on them after that night and wouldn’t mind seeing one in the flesh. They look interesting online.” Everyone stops and stares at Meghan. Even Barb, the salon owner, who’s painting her nails a dark shade of red, stops, her mouth hanging open.

“I’m not having my boyfriend show you his penis, even for the sake of education, Meggy,” Abby giggles, slurping another drink dry.

“Who needs a refill?” I holler, pulling my feet from the hot water. All of my sisters, as well as my three co-workers, each respond with some form of yes. Drying my feet off on the towel, I head towards our break room and mix another pitcher of Malibu and pineapple juice.

I’ve probably been drinking more than normal this last month, but it’s to be expected when your life is tossed in the washer and turned on spin cycle. You know, when your heart, soul, dreams, and future is thrown into a blender and puréed.

It’s hard to believe it was only a month ago that my world shattered. One minute I was married to my high school sweetheart, living in a cute little house on Porter Avenue, and the next I was packing my shit and leaving in the middle of the night without looking back.

That’s how it happened.

My dad had just dropped me off from one of our monthly sisters’ nights. This one was different because everyone was there. Not just us girls. I felt like a big fraud the entire night, smiling and laughing, when in reality, I was dying inside. I had discovered something just that morning. A very big something that I couldn’t unsee, couldn’t forget. After another night where Chris said he’d “try” to stop by at the gathering, I found myself completely alone. Not physically, because the asshole was sleeping in the bed we shared, but emotionally.

I had been betrayed. I had been gutted. I had been broken.

There was only one thing for me to do. I packed a big overnight bag (carefully, as to not wake the sleeping douche), left a copy of the paper I had stumbled upon with my wedding ring on the kitchen counter, and walked out the door.

Considering it was somewhere around one in the morning, I knew my destinations were limited (even though any one of my sisters would have taken me in, without a question asked). I ended up driving to Abby’s place that night. I knew she’s be staying with Levi, so my plan was to sneak into her apartment and deal with her the next day.

Unfortunately, they busted me in the parking lot. Well, I guess you could say I busted them. I’m pretty sure I pulled up at the tail end of road-head, which we had all been discussing earlier in the night. When I pulled up and got out of my car, Abby saw me from Levi’s truck. She was adjusting a pretty rough looking ponytail, and when I questioned her on it, all I got was a horrible blush. Levi, on the other hand, looked as relaxed as possible, with this big dopey grin on his face.

That grin disappeared quickly when they saw my bag and realized what was going on.

Abby let me stay at her place without question, and I’ve been there for four weeks.

My dad and grandparents stop by often; you know, just to check up on me. See, my mom died when I was ten from ovarian cancer, leaving six young girls and a husband behind. Dad has done everything a father would do for his kids, but realized he needed help. That’s where my grandparents came in. My mom’s parents, Orval and Emma, moved in with us after she died to help take care of us. They’re incredibly embarrassing and wildly inappropriate, to say the least, but I wouldn’t want them any other way. Well, maybe less talk about blowjobs and sex toys from the elders, but whatever.

We’re one big, dysfunctional family.

“Hey! Did you get lost in there? Where’s the booze!” Jaime hollers from the main area of the salon, pulling me from the memory I was lost in.

A few moments later, I rejoin my sisters with a fresh pitcher of drinks. After topping off each of their cups, I make my way back to the chair where Ella is waiting. “Your turn,” she says with a smile.

“Hey, Abs, where’d you hang your new swing?” Payton asks with an ornery grin as she heads over to the massage table.

“I wish you’d all get amnesia and forget about that,” Abby says, her face three shades of red.

“Have you used it?” I ask my twin who picks out a deep shade of purple for her toes.

“No way!”

“Why did you get the sex swing? Lexi’s more likely to use it,” AJ says, as she gets ready to have a manicure.

The sex swing is just one of the many radical gifts we’ve received over the years from our grandparents. Orval and Emma don’t know the meaning of boundaries, and think it’s natural to talk about the sex with their grandkids. It doesn’t matter how old we get, it’s still just wrong to witness their constant groping, fondling, and sex talk. And now that some of my sisters are in relationships, there’s a never-ending supply of new stories, unwanted advice, and crazy gifts showered upon us.

But for as inappropriate as they are, it’s who they are. (Well, maybe less closet nooky would be nice. Do you know how many times I’ve opened the door and found them in a compromising position?) Looking at them, that’s the way love is supposed to be. Even after sixty-plus years of marriage, they can’t keep their hands off each other.

Theirs is nothing like my marriage.

“Lex, how’s the apartment hunting?” Payton asks, causing everyone to look my way. Finally, someone addresses the elephant in the room. My sisters found out that I left my husband the day after, but haven’t pushed me for details.

Abby glances my way. I can feel her stare, but refuse to look her way. If I do, I’m liable to cry, and I hate crying. Hate. It. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable, two things I despise as of late. Mostly because that’s all I feel. Inept. Weak. Used.

“Actually,” I start, clearing my throat. “I think I’m going to stay with Abby and take over her lease.”

All eyes turn towards Abby. “And that means…” Meghan starts, letting it trail off so Abby can fill in the rest.

“I’m going to move across the hall to Levi’s,” my twin says with a shy smile.

“Finally,” Jaime says, her green eyes full of excitement.

Abby blushes again, a darling shade of red.

“Has he contacted you?” AJ asks.

Adjusting myself in the seat, I confirm, “Yeah. Every day.”

“Every day?” Meghan asks.

“He thinks I’m going to come crawling back, but I’m not,” I add, shaking my head and taking another healthy drink of my booze. “Besides, I’m sure he got the point yesterday when the divorce papers were sent to him,” I add with a smirk.

“So this is it, huh? There isn’t a cooling off period or spending time apart to make the heart grow fonder?” Meghan asks, sadness in her green eyes.

“Hell no,” I tell them. “I’m done. D. O. N. E. Done. Just stick a fork in me.” And to punctuate my statement, I finish off the rest of my cup of alcohol.

I feel their eyes on me as I set the empty cup down in the holder beside my pedicure chair. “It’s going to be okay, all right? I’m going to get through this because I have you guys. I don’t need a man who won’t make me a priority, and that’s what I realized I wanted to be. Hell, that’s what I deserve to be.” I don’t need to convince myself. I’ve already spent the last month doing that, building up the courage to be confident and content in my decision.

My sisters all nod their heads and give me a smile. Even though this is going to be hard, and Chris isn’t going to go down without a fight (his words), I know this is for the best. Plus, I can’t live with a liar, and that’s what he is. A liar. A thief. A dream killer.

With tacky nails, wet feet, and teary eyes, my sisters surround me, wrapping me in their arms and their love.

I don’t need him, I remind myself.

I don’t need a man to make my dream come true.

I got this.