Sisters In Love (Snow Sisters, Book One: Love in Bloom Series)

Chapter Sixteen, Sisters in Love

“Sounds like he’s got a lot to deal with right now. Besides, why do you want someone other than Chad?”

“Chaz.”

“Chaz,” Danica repeated. Chaz could be Rick, Steve, Dean, or Carl, for all she cared. She didn’t invest too much energy into Kaylie’s men. They came and went faster than the wind changed direction.

Kaylie kicked her UGGs up onto the coffee table. Danica reached over and took her sister’s boots off of her feet, then set them on the floor.

“Thanks,” Kaylie said in her best little-girl voice. “Do you think it’s me?” she asked.

“You? No. You said yourself that he’s got stuff going on in his life, and it sounds like heavy stuff. I would steer clear of him.” She had to get her off of the Blake track. He would do nothing but hurt her in the long run. Danica thought about that for a second, then decided that Kaylie was equally as capable of hurting him, especially in his current state. She’d seen men go through the great realization before: They weren't the man they thought they were; they drank too much, played around too much, ate too much, hated women, hated their mothers, hated life. She had a long way to go with Blake before she would understand his real issues, but there was one thing she did know. Breaking through and revealing his faults the way he had was painful for him, and now she also saw that it had had a tremendous impact. What he did with that knowledge over the next few weeks would prove whether he was capable of changing his behavior. More important, whether he really wanted to change. Turning away from Barbie-doll Kaylie was a step in the right direction.

“What on earth are you wearing?” Kaylie asked with a laugh.

Danica looked down at her flowing jacket. “What? I like it. I took Michelle to the Village this weekend, and it made me realize that I dress like an old lady.”

“It took a trip to the Village for you to realize that? You mean my constant reminding did nothing to tip you off?” She smiled and kicked her stockinged foot in Danica’s direction.

“Do you like it?” she asked tentatively.

Kaylie assessed Danica’s outfit. “Yeah, I do, even if it doesn’t really match your slacks.”

“What do you mean? Black matches everything.” She looked down at her slacks.

“Usually that’s true, but that jacket belongs with jeans and UGGs, not slacks and heels. You look like Cloris Leachman, or Maude, or one of those women.”

“Really?” No wonder Blake had been looking at her that way. And there she was, feeling so confident in just another old-lady outfit.

Kaylie took Danica’s hand and dragged her toward the stairs. “Come on, sis. I’ve been dying to give you a makeover for years.” Kaylie ran up the stairs like a teenager ready to trade secrets.

Danica followed behind, sighing along the way.

Upstairs, in Danica’s room, Kaylie passed the bed and said, “No Twizzlers?”

“A whole drawer full, unfortunately,” Danica joked.

Kaylie rummaged through Danica’s closet, pulling shirts and blouses down and tossing them at her. “Put these on the bed.”

Danica sifted through the mismatched jackets, jeans, leggings, and shirts. She sat on the bed and watched Kaylie move from the closet to the dresser, weeding through Danica’s jewelry and laying out necklaces and earrings across the top. She pulled open Danica’s top drawer.

“Hey, no need to go in there,” Danica said.

“Are you kidding me?” Kaylie dug through Danica’s lingerie, withdrawing the laciest—and the most uncomfortable—bras and panties that Danica owned.

Danica watched, shaking her head.

“Never in your life have you let me help you with this,” Kaylie said with her back to Danica.

“Well, maybe change is good.”

Kaylie turned around. “Yeah, maybe it is.” She came and sat down next to Danica. They both faced the mirror above the dresser. “Why do I do it?”

Danica tilted her head. “Because you love clothes and I have a very tenuous relationship with them.”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean with guys. Chaz is so nice. He’s really good to me, and he’s definitely hot. So, why do I, you know, try to get other guys when I’m happy?”

Danica knew better than to answer.

“Come on. You’re a therapist. Can’t you help me?” Kaylie pleaded.

They stared at each other through their reflections. Danica leaned her head on Kaylie’s. “You don’t want my help, Kaylie.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Kaylie said. “But I get it, you know? I know you think there’s something wrong with what I’m doing.”

“I don’t judge you. I love you,” Danica answered.

“Thank God someone does.” Kaylie jumped up and began putting together outfits.

Danica’s heart broke with the realization she so often had—that everyone carries baggage. Some people’s was just lighter than others’.