Destiny glanced at the small clock on her nightstand. It was nearly ten. She stood and walked into the hallway, then knocked on Starr’s closed door.
“Hey, I just wanted to say good-night.”
There was an odd sound, then Starr said, “You can come in.”
Destiny opened the door. Her sister sat at the small desk in her room. Her tablet was on a stand.
“Emailing friends?” Destiny asked.
“Watching a movie.” Starr half turned toward her, her long hair hanging over her face. “I heard you playing.”
Destiny winced. She’d been so upset, she’d forgotten to go into the garage. Or wait until Starr was asleep.
Destiny walked over to the bed and sat down. “Yes, you did.”
“So you can play. You lied.”
“I know. I apologize.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I don’t like playing. Sometimes I can’t help doing it, but mostly I ignore it. Music isn’t my thing.”
“What if it’s my thing?” Starr brushed her hair back and glared.
Destiny saw what looked like tears on her sister’s cheeks. “Are you okay?”
Starr brushed at her face. “I’m fine. You didn’t answer the question.”
Destiny thought about life with her parents. How every moment had been dominated by music. It had always been playing in the background. There had been jam sessions in the living room. Even putting the dishes away had turned into a music extravaganza with flatware as percussion and water-filled glasses playing the melody. She thought of the laughter and later the tears. The sense of being abandoned over and over again. Of being a pawn.
“It’s complicated,” she began.
“No, it’s not. I want to play better, and you won’t teach me. We’re sisters. You’re supposed to care about me.”
“I do.”
“No, you don’t. Music is the most important part of my life, and you’re keeping me from it.”
“I’m sorry. Sorry that I lied and sorry you’re hurt now.” She paused, knowing what she had to say and not wanting to say it. No. It wasn’t the words she regretted, it was the actions that would follow.
“I can teach you to play,” she said softly. “Guitar and piano. I have a keyboard in my room.”
Starr turned away. “Never mind. I don’t want to learn anything from you.”
Destiny flinched as if she’d been hit. She’d screwed up. “Please, Starr. Don’t punish me by punishing yourself. That never goes well. Let’s spend some time playing this weekend. I can show you a few things that—”
“I said no.” Starr turned back to her computer. “It’s late. I’m tired.”
In other words, get out of my room, Destiny thought.
“Okay.” She stood. “Good night.”
She walked out and closed the door.
She told herself she would do better next time. The subject wasn’t over. She would give Starr a couple of days then bring it up again. Teaching her a few chords wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would give them something to talk about. A way to get to know each other.
Because while Destiny might not know everything Grandma Nell would do, she was sure the older woman would make Starr feel welcome and loved. It was a lesson Destiny knew she had to learn.
* * *
ANGELO’S ITALIAN CUISINA was across from the park. The whitewashed building had a large patio with plenty of outdoor dining. Kipling tasted the red wine that had just been delivered to the table.
“Very nice,” he said.
Their server nodded and poured. When he’d left, Shelby leaned toward him.
“Do you ever send the wine back just because?” she asked with a grin.
“No. Not my style.”
“I know. I’m just messing with you. I’m sure in your life, you get enough attention in other ways.”
Not lately, he thought, thinking it had been a long time between women in his life. Between recovering from the crash and then moving to Fool’s Gold, he’d avoided romantic entanglements. But if all went according to plan, he was going to be tangled up very soon. Which wasn’t a subject he would be discussing with his baby sister.
“How’s work?” he asked. They were having dinner at five in the evening. A ridiculous time, but Shelby’s job at the bakery required an early start.
“Good. I’m learning a lot. Amber is trusting me with more and more responsibility. The tourist season is bringing in a lot of business. I had no idea how many people come back year after year. They remember what they ordered last time, and we sure had better have it now.”
He nodded to show he was listening. He admired Shelby’s enthusiasm. A year ago she’d been dealing with a mother dying of cancer and a father who thought nothing of putting his fist into his only daughter’s face.
“I suggested we have a food cart at the last festival. Amber wasn’t sure it would work, but we sold out of everything before noon. It was a huge moneymaker.”
“Congratulations on impressing the boss.”
“Thanks. I have a lot of ideas.” Shelby glanced down at the table then back up. “Amber and I have been talking.”
Kipling recognized the tone and the strategy. He braced himself for something he knew he didn’t want to hear. “And?”
“When her dad retires, she’s going to take over the bookstore. There’s no way she can run two businesses at the same time. So she’s looking for a partner in the bakery. I was thinking I want to buy into the bakery with her.”