Sisters of Heart and Snow by Margaret Dilloway Read Free Book Online Page A

her cruise was taking longer than she thought. Drew asked her if she was okay, if she needed any help, and finally, bluntly, “You know there’s not enough to cover rent.”
    Liza shrugged, or Drew imagined she shrugged. Drew couldn’t see her through the phone, obviously. “You know what, the business hasn’t been profitable for a while. Give the keys back to the owner. I’ll mail you your last check.”
    And then Drew should have shouted at Liza, told her off for being so flippant with someone else’s life. It shouldn’t have surprised Drew. An employer who made Drew look like a sensible far-thinking thrifty person was definitely not someone Drew should have trusted. Berating Liza wasn’t worth it—she’d just hang up. Drew’s got enough in the bank, thanks to a few music jobs, to cover herself for a couple of weeks. And she could always ask her father for money. She hates doing that—has eaten ramen for days and sold her television to avoid it in the past—but the reality is that her father doesn’t miss it any more than she’d miss pocket lint.
    Drew still has a key to his house. She could just walk in without Rachel and look for the book. Her mother, still legally married to Killian Snow, has the right to get her stuff out of the house, does she not? Especially because Rachel has power of attorney.
    Drew shifts on the leather seat, her backside sticking uncomfortably to the upholstery. Power of attorney is number fifty or so on a long laundry list of the reasons why Rachel and Killian are still bitter toward each other.
    To outsiders, Killian Snow seemed like a genial, gentle man. With his cheerful baritone and big teddy-bear build, Killian charmed everyone who met him. He’d played high school football and skipped college, starting a business providing window glass to high rises, as well as many other investments they didn’t really know the details about, like that telecommunications company. He was one of those guys who could sit down with a stranger in a bar and come away invited to the family reunion. Someone people didn’t believe could do any wrong. “Your dad’s so charming,” Drew’s friends would tell her. “That’s because he’s a white-collar grifter,” she always wanted to reply, but of course did not. To his family, he was someone else. It was like he erected a new and happy public face every day that slowly crumbled into dust by the time he got home, revealing his true nature.
    The earliest memory Drew has of her father is from when she was maybe three years old. Rachel was seven. Drew asked her father if Santa would bring her Spanish Barbie, a doll with a swirling red flamenco skirt and long brown curls.
    â€œNah. Santa’s going to bring you a lump of coal,” Killian said, his eyes twinkling.
    Drew began to cry. Back then, she’d believed everything her father told her. “I don’t want coal.”
    Killian turned the page of his newspaper. “Well, that’s all you’re going to get. A big lump of coal.”
    Drew tried to remember what she’d done that was so bad. She couldn’t think of anything. “But I’ve been good.”
    Now Killian was unable to back away from the narrative he’d started. Never, not at anyone’s expense, could her father cut his own pride. Never could he admit he was wrong. “That’s how Santa works, Drew. What can I tell you?”
    Her big sister, Rachel, reading a book across the room, put her book down. “That’s mean,” Rachel said quietly. “You shouldn’t make her cry.”
    Killian looked at Rachel, his forehead wrinkling in surprise. “I’m just teasing her. I always say: hope for the best but expect the worst.”
    Rachel curled her upper lip and Drew put a couch cushion in front of her, bracing herself. “That’s not telling her to hope,” Rachel said.