Chasing Daybreak

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The house was completely dark when I walked in the door. I leaned back against the smooth wood, just letting myself breathe in and out. When I felt calm again, I flipped on the light switch, tossing my keys on the table and kicking off my shoes as I moved down the hallway toward the kitchen. I hit that switch and nearly jumped out of my skin.

“What the fu—?”

“Hey, sis,” Heather said calmly, interrupting my expletive.

Phoebe smiled, dangling a DVD case from two fingers. “We brought tequila, ice cream, and Dune, the remake.”

My little sisters were sitting at the marble-top table, each grinning like they had just lit the cat on fire or something.

Heather was wearing a light blue, spaghetti-strap dress with clouds on it. Her hair was pulled into symmetrical buns over each ear, peacock feather earrings dangling from each lobe. Phoebe had on a ratty David Bowie T-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

“What is it, sneak-up-on-Isabel day or something?” I complained, clutching my chest in mock surprise.

“We knew you’d be feeling down tonight. Figured we’d come have a sleepover, keep you company.” Heather smiled and stood to make her way to the cabinets, where she started rummaging. “Let’s make popcorn.”

Phoebe slid out of her seat and gave me a hug, tequila bottle in hand, before jerking her head towards Heather. “At least we won’t have to fight her for the worm.”

I debated sending them back to Mom’s. But, truth be told, I was really glad not to be alone.

“Aha!” Heather turned, holding a bag of microwave popcorn over her head.

I snatched it away, pulled off the wrapper, and tossed it in the microwave. Then I hugged her. “Thanks for being here.”

“We’re family. Family looks out for each other, right?”

“Right,” Phoebe chimed in, retrieving some glasses from the dishwasher.

“So,” I kicked off my shoes, “what kind of ice cream did you bring?”

Phoebe moved to the freezer. “What, do I look like an amateur?” She held up a pint of triple fudge brownie.

Heather grabbed three spoons.

“Hold on there, sis. Can you eat dairy? I mean, it comes from cows,” I teased.

Heather brandished the spoons like weapons. “If you try to keep that ice cream away from me, I swear I’ll poke you in the eye with this spoon.”

Phoebe and I laughed at her serious face, then Phoebe poured a round into the shot glasses and handed them out.

“To family,” she offered.

“To family,” Heather and I said in unison.

Three glasses of tequila, a pint of ice cream, and two hours of Dune later, we were all warm and slurry. Like when we were children, I’d dragged all the blankets and pillows out, and we’d nested on the living room floor.

Heather was snoring softly as she lay snuggled on a tower of pillows.

“Izzy, can I ask you something serious?” Phoebe swallowed the last of the amber liquid in her glass.

“Oh, you can ask, but I might be too drunk to give you a serious answer.”

She shifted onto her knees. “Okay. You and Shane, what happened? I mean, the whole story.”