The Happy Family by Jackie Kabler (electric book reader txt) 📕

said to her, blaming the stress of Finley’s accident on top of everything else that’s been going on recently, and she eventually said OK, she’d come back. She was still a little grumpy with me yesterday though – not that I blamed her – but to her credit she was her usual cheery self with the children, for which I was deeply grateful.

‘I’m glad you and Robin are friends again, Mum,’ Eloise whispered, as I kissed her goodbye when I left for work.

‘Me too,’ I whispered, although I knew we weren’t, not really. It was a start, though.

Mum had simply nodded and said, ‘All right, if that’s what you want,’ when I told her Robin would be resuming her duties, but her mouth was set in a tight line for an hour afterwards, and it was pretty obvious she didn’t approve.

But, much as I want to please my mother, I’m holding firm on this one, I think. I need Robin. It’s OK now, with Mum here, but what happens when she goes home again in September or whenever? What do I do then?

Still, her disapproval stings a little, and her mistrust of Robin makes me uneasy.

I’m still not sure I entirely trust her myself, not after recent events, but she’s back now, so—

BEEEEEP!

I jump as a car horn sounds loudly behind me and I realise the red light I’ve been sitting in front of has turned green without me noticing. I raise a hand in apology and move off again. I should be home in about five minutes now, traffic permitting, and my stomach rolls. I know the house will be immaculate – between them, Mum and Robin will have seen to that – and I’ve asked Robin to make up Eloise’s room for Liv. We’ve pre-ordered some Thai food – apparently this is my sister’s favourite – which will just need reheating, and there’s champagne chilling in the fridge. Everything is perfectly in place.

But what if she doesn’t like me? What if she thinks I’m fat and boring? What if …

I lift my right hand from the steering wheel and firmly slap my left wrist.

‘Stop it. She’s going to love you. She’s going to love all of us,’ I say loudly.

I repeat the words like a mantra the rest of the way home, but it doesn’t help much. As I put the key in the front door, my stomach is churning and my heart is beating so fast I actually feel a little faint.

Shit. Shit. I’m about to meet my sister. Is this even real?

And then I walk into the kitchen, and there they all are, my mum, my two children, and my sister. Our eyes meet and she smiles, the biggest, sunniest, most beautiful smile, and suddenly everything, everything, is OK.

‘Mum! This is her! This is Auntie Liv!’

Finley launches himself at me and I hug him and laugh, and then Eloise is hugging me too, and across the room Mum’s grinning ear to ear and Liv’s getting up from her stool and coming towards me, arms outstretched.

‘Hello, sis,’ she says, and even though Finley and Eloise are still wrapped around me she just piles on too, and it’s all four of us in a big, messy giggling cuddle, and it’s wonderful. Just. So. Wonderful.

Eventually we extricate ourselves and I get a proper look at her. Her long blonde hair is tied back in a loose ponytail today, little wisps falling around her face, and when she smiles her teeth are white and even. She’s wearing a buttery-soft navy leather jacket and tight jeans which show off long, slender legs. She smells of wildflowers and peaches, and her long nails are painted a chic nude colour. She’s gorgeous, and I suddenly feel horribly self-conscious again – lumpy and wrinkly and unstylish, sixteen years older than her but looking much older. I am her frumpy older sister. And yet she’s looking at me as if I’m the most exciting thing she’s ever seen, grabbing my hands now and pulling me across the room, telling me how lovely the house is and how great the kids are and how fabulous it is to have a niece and nephew and how she just can’t wait to get to know us all properly … And now I’m starting to feel little bubbles of joy in my tummy. My sister, here at last.

For the next hour, we all just sit in the kitchen chatting. Mum opens the champagne and pours some lemonade for Finley and Eloise. We all ‘cheers’ and toast one another, and then we chat some more, Liv and I tripping over our words in our efforts to catch up on more than twenty years of life, twenty-odd years that we’ve been sisters without knowing a thing about each other. She’s single at the moment, has had a couple of boyfriends in recent years but nobody serious. She loves her job but is keen to travel too, maybe take an adult gap-year and backpack around Asia. She’s a keen runner with several marathons under her belt. This reminds me of Robin, who’s not here – Mum must have let her go early again, but I’m not going to make an issue of it, not today.

At seven o’clock we decide we’d better eat, and Mum insists she’ll organise it while we carry on getting to know each other.

‘It just needs heating up; it won’t take long,’ she says, and shoos us all into the living room. Finley and Eloise seem as smitten with their new aunt as they were with their new grandmother. Eloise in particular is hanging on Liv’s every word. When my sister mentions loving drama classes at school, Eloise is ecstatic.

‘Me too, me too!’ she shrieks, bouncing up and down on her chair. ‘I’ve got a big part in the Easter play. We’re doing Shakespeare’s life as a musical!’

‘Well done, you!’ says Liv. ‘Must run in the family, eh Beth? Mum was into a bit of am-dram too, back in