Sex Drive by Susan Lyons Read Free Book Online Page A

criticize.”
    “I like things to be done right,” I muttered.
    “ Your idea of right, Ms. Perfectionist.”
    Why could we never act like rational adults? “Let’s not argue. We all said we wanted to give Merilee a great wedding, so we need to cooperate. I’ll set up a project plan and work out the tasks, then we can figure out who does what.”
    “Yeah, sure, a project plan,” she said disdainfully. “Whatever.”
    “Of course, you can’t actually do anything until you get to Vancouver,” I added.
    She sighed. “I’m trying. Honest, Tree.” Jenna was the only one who used nicknames. I was Tree because that’s how she’d first pronounced my name. “But it’s not easy. I need to raise some money.”
    “Money?”
    “Yeah, like to fly home?”
    “You don’t have money for the flight?” Hadn’t she been working?
    “The peregrine falcon survey is volunteer work. I’ve been waitressing some evenings, but I’m not making a lot.”
    How could she live like that, especially now she was turning thirty? Normally I wouldn’t have bailed her out, but damn it, Merilee was getting married. “When I get to Vancouver tomorrow, I’ll book a flight for you and I’ll pay.”
    “Shit, Theresa, I don’t need your charity.”
    Couldn’t she just say “thank you”? Annoyed, I sniped back. “Sounds to me like you do. Or, if you won’t take it from me, call Mom and Dad. I’m sure they’ll pay to fly you home.”
    “Not going to happen.”
    Damn her. Ninety-nine percent of the time she was easygoing, but every once in a while—at the most inconvenient moments—she got stubborn. “So, what’s your plan? ” My guess was, she didn’t have one. “It’ll break Merilee’s heart if you’re not home for the wedding.”
    “I’ll be there! Honest to God, Theresa, lay off. I’ll figure it out.”
    My headache was returning. “Well, if you have any brilliant ideas about the wedding, give me a call or drop me an e-mail.”
    “You’ve got the location booked, right?”
    “No, I don’t. I haven’t even started the project plan. Since Merilee called, I’ve been kind of busy. Booking a flight, reorganizing my schedule, getting someone else to monitor exams, packing. I’ll find a location as soon as I get home.”
    “A location? You know where it has to be, don’t you?”
    I’d barely given it a moment’s thought. “Where?”
    “VanDusen Gardens.”
    “Why do you…Oh. Oh, yeah.” Our gran, Mom’s mother—who unfortunately now suffered from Alzheimer’s—used to take us girls on an outing every Sunday afternoon. Science World, the Aquarium, the beach at Spanish Banks, VanDusen Gardens. Merilee had always loved the rambling, naturally landscaped gardens. I did remember her saying she wanted to get married there. How could I have forgotten?
    Could it have something to do with the fact that Merilee, the late addition to our three-pack of sisters, had rarely been the focus of my attention? Or Mom’s or Dad’s, or Kat’s or Jenna’s, for that matter. By the time Merilee came along, we were wrapped up in our own lives.
    “It’s June,” I said. “It’ll be booked on a Saturday.”
    “It’s a big place. I bet they could squeeze us in.”
    To put it kindly, Jenna was an eternal optimist. To put it more accurately, she tended to ignore reality. “I’ll ask.” There might be a last-minute cancellation. Merilee would be so excited if we could hold the wedding at VanDusen. “And if not, maybe one of the other gardens Gran used to take us to.”
    “Talk to Mom and Dad,” Jenna said. “They must know someone who can make it happen. Play the guilt card.”
    “The guilt card. That’s a thought.” Our father, who worked at the University of British Columbia, was one of Canada’s leaders in researching genetic links to cancer, and was busy with the final draft of a report. Mom was a prominent personal injury lawyer and right now she was preparing to present an appeal in the Supreme Court of