Chapter One
Abby
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.
The pleasant July night is perfect for a beachside round of disc golf; or at least that’s what AJ said. It was her month to choose our activity, and since she’s enjoying the heck out of her summer away from the teenage kids she teaches at the junior high, she opted to live it up along the Bay. We’re one of several groups playing tonight, which is higher than normal. Of course, the main reason for the extra bodies on the beach isn’t just because of the gorgeous evening. It’s because the band Crush is playing.
Levi’s band.
As much as I try to tune them out, his deep vocals can be heard all the way over here, on the opposite end of the public beach. He’s been the lead guitar player and backup vocalist since they started the band when we were nineteen. I can still recall the day he called me at school and told me his news. We celebrated together on my next trip home from college the one way we always did: a movie and strawberry ice cream.
I push the memory out of my mind and focus on now. My next throw is coming, and I’m trying to figure out how to get out of it. I hate sports. Okay, I don’t hate them, I’m just not good at them. Bowling, mini golf, Frisbee golf, you name it, I stink at it. The whole sports gene was just used up by the rest of the Summer sisters by the time I came along.
Let’s roll back around to disc golf, or Frisbee golf as some like to call it. The object is to take your plastic disc (think Frisbee) and throw it into a basket on a pole. There are chains and a technique to it, but I don’t really care about all of that. I’m basically here for the margaritas. Oh, back to the game. It’s like golf, except without the club. You throw your disc and try to get it in the basket. The person with the least amount of throws wins. I never win.
Our beach is considered a nine-hole course. It’s not sanctioned by the powers that be, the Professional Disc Golf Association. (Yes, that’s a real organization. Look it up.) It serves its purpose to those who enjoy the game in Jupiter Bay. Six holes are positioned along the beach, whereas the remaining three can be found just off the sand in areas of dunes and tall grass.
I suck not only at sports, but well, anything that doesn’t involve words. I like to read, always have, which is why my job as an editor for Stonewell Publishing is heaven-sent. I get to work from home, editing and correcting manuscripts for romance authors all over the world. The best of the best write under the Stonewell name, and I’m lucky to be attached.
“Abby, your turn,” Payton hollers as she stands by and waits for me to throw.
“Are you all set to move at the end of the month?” I ask, taking aim at the big chain-made basket.
“All set. Everyone’s available to help, right?” she asks, opening another can of beer.
“Did you really leave us a choice?” AJ quips, a smile on her face.
“Nope. You’ll all be there. I’ll make lunch,” Payton adds.
“You’ll make lunch?” Lexi asks, her eyebrow posed high into her hairline, an ornery smirk on her face.
“Well, Dean will make lunch. Whatever. Same thing. Don’t be a brat, just be at my house at eight a.m.”
“We only get lunch? You’re making us move everything out of your place and into either storage, take it to Goodwill, or to Dean’s. That calls for dinner too, I believe,” Jaime says, glancing over her shoulder towards the crowd on the beach.
“Stop it. He’s out there somewhere watching you. His lips are probably going to fall off because he hasn’t kissed you in like,” AJ says, checking her watch, “fifty-five minutes. Poor baby.”
“What did I do to you? Is tonight pick on Jaime night?”
“Nope, that was last night,” Payton adds.
I can’t help but laugh. “Anyway, I’ll be there,” I tell Payton.
“Good. Bring Levi. We need more muscle.”
Ah yes, Levi. The man we’re not discussing right now.
I don’t acknowledge the statement, but instead, turn towards the basket. I let the disc fly, but it doesn’t go anywhere near the intended target. Instead, it flies to the right by a good ten feet. At this rate, I’ll never get that stupid round thing inside the stupid hole.
Huh. Much like my sex life.
“Grandpa stopped by the shop yesterday and grabbed flowers for Grandma,” Payton says.
“That’s sweet,” I chime in.
“It was, until he asked me to make an arrangement with pussy willows and poppies,” she mumbles.
“Gross. Why is there a flower called pussy willow?” Meghan asks.
“It’s not even a flower. It’s a plant. It’s actually called the Salix Discolor, and they grow wild along ditches and places where water gathers.”
“But why pussy willow? They look more like cocks than pussies.” Lexi looks deep in thought as she contemplates the answer to her question.
“Why are we talking about this?” I ask.
“Because our grandparents always talk about the sex, and they’re rubbing off on us,” Jaime says. We all giggle at her reference of the sex. It’s how Grandma always refers to it.
“Poppies are fairly popular though, right?” AJ asks, taking her shot at the basket.
“Yeah, if you like hairy ball sacks. Grandma always says they look like balls.”
“Or vaginas! Don’t forget that everything looks like a vagina,” Meghan adds through her laughter. It’s so nice to see her smile.
Our grandparents helped raise us, and are the most inappropriate couple on the face of the planet. Their constant groping, mixed with language that would make a sailor blush, makes them over the top in the PDA and embarrassment departments. But we love them, even with the constant mortification that follows in their wake.
Our dad, Brian, is amazing. When my mom died sixteen years ago from ovarian cancer, it took a toll on everyone, especially him. He was left alone to raise six girls ranging from nine to seventeen. But he did it. Sure, he had the help of our grandparents, our mother’s parents, but he made sure to stay an active part in our lives. He took a job flying private planes that didn’t take him away as much as the commercial jets, he did everything he could to attend ballgames, dance recitals, and award assemblies. He rarely missed a milestone and has remained very much a part of all of our lives.
My sisters all talk over each other, laughing at stories and teasing each other mercilessly. We’re brutal in a pack, competitive by nature, and loyal to a fault. I’m second to youngest of six girls. Yes, all girls. I’m also a twin. I can see you now, panicking at the thought of trying to keep all of us straight, so I’ll try to help you out and keep it simple.
First, there’s Payton. She’s the oldest and owns Blossoms and Blooms, the small floral shop in downtown Jupiter Bay. She’s also getting ready to move in with her boyfriend, Dean, and his daughter, Brielle. I adore that little girl. She’s the first child in the Summer family, even though she’s technically not flesh and blood. But that doesn’t matter to us. She’s already as much a part of the family as if she were actually born into it.
Up next comes Jaime. She works for Addy’s Place, a program where kids who come from hard situations can go after school for help with homework, a healthy snack, or just to hang out socially. She’s dating Ryan, though my sisters and I all expect a proposal soon. They live together with their deranged cat, Boots.
Third is Alison, or AJ. Teacher. Coach. Smartass. She’s one of the remaining single ones, and I don’t foresee that changing anytime soon.
Meghan. Oh, sweet, heartbroken Meghan. It’s hard to talk about Meg. She’s fourth in line, and recently lost her fiancé in a car accident. Josh was…everything to her, and our family. She’s learning to navigate a new normal right now, and all we can do is be there for her when she needs us.
As I mentioned, I’m a twin, so that leaves Lexi. Alexis is my mirror image, even though we are nothing alike. She’s fierce and feisty, and loves to stir the pot with her big wooden spoon. She’s married to her high school sweetheart, Chris, but there are rocky waters there.
She’s also my other half. When I need to talk, to cry, to laugh, she’s my first call. Lexi and I share a special bond that most don’t quite understand. I mean, we shared womb space for nine months; that’s something pretty gargantuan.
Then there’s Levi, but we don’t need to get into him right now. I’m here tonight to have a good time with my sisters and don’t need the distraction of letting my mind wander in his direction. Just know that he’s my friend.
My best friend.
And I might be a little bit in love with him.