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

Chapter Five, Sisters in Love

Chapter Five

Danica sat in front of her television set in her favorite baggy, blue sweatpants and T-shirt, reviewing Belinda Trenton’s file. A typical Saturday night for Danica. Danica knew Belinda’s story all too well. Daddy didn’t pay enough attention to her. She reached out for sex, hoping for love, and couldn’t figure out why she was treated poorly. She had to make sure she wasn’t missing anything from their earlier sessions. She could help this girl; there was no doubt about it. It’s what she did best—helping pull the insecure and needy up by their bootstraps and start anew, with some semblance of confidence and willpower.

When her cell phone rang, she set the file down on her perfectly organized coffee table and glanced at the time.

“Hi, Kay.”

“What’s up, sis?” Her younger sister, Kaylie, was far too chipper for eleven o’clock at night. “Wait. Don’t tell me. You’re sitting in your living room poring over client files to figure out how you can help some poor sap who can’t get it up.”

“I wish it were that easy,” she answered, thinking of Belinda. “Viagra works wonders. Unfortunately, it’s not what this client needs.” Danica laughed. Her younger sister knew how to get her head out of the office.

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me?” Kaylie laughed.

Danica rolled her eyes. She’d long ago stopped trying to help Kaylie figure out that she didn’t need to sleep with any man who happened to strike her fancy. “Are you drunk?”

“Let’s just say I’m not exactly sober. Camille and the girls are here. Can you meet us?”

Danica and Kaylie had grown up on the same block as Camille Rochester, who was getting married to Jeffrey Danber in a few short weeks. They had been inseparable as kids, but now Danica was a twenty-nine-year-old therapist, working from sunup to sundown; Camille, a year younger, was wrapped up in being a bride-to-be; and Kaylie was a twenty-seven-year-old singer who lived life like a pseudo rock star.

“It’s late, and I’m comfy. Can’t Camille take care of you?”

Kaylie sighed. “You know Camille. She’s spent the last twenty years planning her wedding. It’s finally her time to shine, and I’m so sick of talking about her wedding, I could puke. So suck it up, put on something with a little cleavage, and meet me in twenty minutes. Please?”

“Cleavage?”

Kaylie laughed. “Yeah. You know those things that sit on your chest? Let them show a little. Jesus, Danica, it’s like you hole yourself up in your office and condo so often, you don’t even know how to live anymore.”

Danica surveyed her cozy living room. “At least I have a condo.”

“Shut up,” Kaylie snapped. “It’s the same as my apartment, but you have a big-ass mortgage.”

“And no bitchy roommates. I have to meet Michelle tomorrow morning.” Danica had been mentoring ninth grader Michelle Parce for the past six months through the Big Sister program. When she’d first moved back to Allure, she’d toyed with the idea of opening a recreational youth center, someplace safe where teens could gather and hang out without the constant barrage of commercialization like a mall. She’d even thrown around the idea of having free social services for teens—not exactly therapy, but an ear for listening. A sounding board. Instead, she’d fallen prey to her parents’ pressure of becoming a therapist and following the conventional route, and her dreams had fallen further and further away.  Spending time with Michelle recently had rekindled her thoughts. Michelle’s mother, Nancy, was a recovering alcoholic, and Michelle lived with her grandmother. “I can’t show up with a hangover.”