ALONE TOGETHER I OWEN GRADY

Go Your Own Way

In the end, she'd hidden the canvas in her garage, no longer having the time to indulge in art beyond what helped pay the bills, but Karen had found it one evening whilst looking for items to donate to a charity yard sale, her sister instantly seeing it was out of the ordinary. Karen had then secretly entered Distant Horizon into a prestigious art contest, where it had taken first prize, raising Cassandra's profile to a whole new level, winning the praise of art critics and the public alike. In a fit of philanthropy, Cassandra had donated it as a prize for a charity auction, wherein the winning buyer had bided their time and then sold it on for an enormous personal profit, something that still made Cassandra writhe even now.

"What's with the long face, kiddo?"

Cassandra glanced up, startled, only to see Karen standing in the kitchen doorway, phone in hand. "Don't call me 'kiddo'," she complained, getting up from her seat, "that's what I call Morgan."

"And that's what I call you, kiddo," Karen said as she came into the kitchen, typing something into her phone as she moved, brow furrowing.

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "What's up?" she asked abruptly, craning her neck as she tried to read Karen's phone upside down, seeing a slew of words that made no sense. "Has Morgan hit Zach over the head again with the remote?"

"Nope," Karen said, coming over, hurriedly slipping her phone into her jean pocket. "Just dropping by to see if inspiration burns."

"It does indeed," Cassandra said, curious about what Karen was hiding on her phone, "well, sort of."

"Can I see?"

Cassandra wordlessly slid the sketchbook over, Karen catching it just in time before it scooted off the edge of the table. As Karen flicked through the pages, Cassandra studied her sister, noting the way the morning sun caught the gold hidden in her hair. The Dearing sisters had inherited varying shades of ginger hair from their father; Cassandra's being a deep copper whilst Claire's was a rich red, Karen's pale auburn hair almost bordering on blonde in certain lights.

"They're beautiful," Karen said sincerely, carefully putting the sketchbook back down, "honestly, you're extraordinarily talented, Cass. Mom shouldn't have been a downer on you applying for that art scholarship. You would have been a shoo-in."

"Well, what did she used to call Dad?" Cass said, striking a thoughtful pose. "A commonplace dauber?"

Karen smiled, amused against her will. "How could I forget?" she said, her gaze becoming thoughtful as she studied her sister. "But I'm glad you took up your art again. The divorce... the redundancy... they were blessings in disguise, Cass. They helped set you free."

Cassandra looked at Karen, taken aback. "I never thought of it like that," she then said slowly, pushing the hair out of her eyes, "but I suppose you're... right."

"Of course, I'm right," Karen grinned, elbowing her, "I'm your big sister and big sisters are always right, right?"

~*~

"You can't wear that, Cass!"

Cassandra whirled around from where she'd been studying Karen's wall display of paintings, which were a mixture of Cassandra's own work and reproductions of Karen's favourite Pre-Raphaelite and Impressionist pieces. "Wear what that?" she said stupidly, smoothing down her denim shirt and jeans.

"You can't double-denim on a double-date," Karen snapped. "So get upstairs and now!"

"Double-date what!?" Cassandra said in disbelief.

"Wear that velvet dress you bought last week," Karen said, ignoring her. "It's cold out and the blue brings out your eyes. I forever bless the day you discovered contacts."

Cassandra rolled her eyes at Karen's comical contempt for spectacles, having not been more than a little emotionally attached to her own before she'd finally shed them. "The dress you forced me to buy," she corrected Karen, making her sister roll her own eyes.

"Just get ready, will you?"

"Karen, have you set me up again with one of Scott's numerous redneck cousins?" Cassandra demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Isn't that bordering on incest?"

"They're not rednecks, they're just... a little rough around the edges."

"More a little racist around the edges, actually."

"Cass, please."

"I'm not doing it, Karen."

"He's not a cousin, he's a work friend of Scott's, and he's a really lovely guy," Karen said persuasively, "and, listen to this, he's a single dad too."

"Do I look like I care?"

"It's been six years, Cass."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Is Claire coming down for Christmas?" she said abruptly, turning back to the wall. "I want to finish that painting of us for Mom. I just need her to sit for it and then I'm done. Well, once I varnish it and stuff, obviously."

Karen exhaled sharply. "When does Claire ever come down for Christmas?" she then said, her voice cracking. "Or summer or Thanksgiving or anything?"

"Well, we usually see her at the family funerals, don't we?"

"Cassandra!"

"Look, she calls sometimes, doesn't she?" Cassandra pointed out. "Well, once in a blue moon, but it's better than nothing, I suppose."

"I guess we should be grateful for small mercies, then," Karen retorted, "usually it's straight to voicemail with Claire."

Cassandra studied her sister's hurt face, the sight making her shift uncomfortably on the spot. She didn't have a problem per se with Claire's prolonged absences, being closer to Karen than Claire, but it always sucked to have one sister upsetting the other, Cassandra caught in the middle as ever. "Have you got a pair of heels I can borrow?" she said even more abruptly. "I didn't pack any."

"Heels for what?"

"This double-date you were talking about with Single Dad of The Year."

Karen clapped her hands, her face lighting up. "I do," she squealed, doing a crazy little dance on the spot. "I have just the perfect pair!" She clapped her hands again before rushing up the stairs, all thoughts of Claire forgotten, even as Cassandra silently cursed Claire until kingdom come.