Whiskey Island by Emilie Richards Read Free Book Online Page B

that morning’s Plain Dealer Metro section, Megan’s day had been one long barrage of calls and surprise visits from worried relatives who wanted to make sure the sisters were really all right. By noon it had been clear a celebration was expected. By one Megan had been enmeshed in planning, ordering and cooking. She had not had ten minutes all day to talk to either Casey or Peggy.
    “It’s great to have you home,” Megan said, “but somebody would have taken an extra shift to help out. You’re supposed to be doing more important things.”
    “What could be more important than a family reunion?”
    Megan knew better than to quiz Peggy here and now, but she decided to put out a feeler. “I’m thrilled you and Casey are here, but I thought classes started this week.”
    “They do.”
    “And it doesn’t matter if you miss a couple?”
    “I was only home for two days over Christmas break. When Casey told me what she was planning, the hospital agreed I could take some time off.”
    During the school year, Peggy, who was hoping to enter med school next year, worked part-time as a receptionist in an emergency room. Although the job didn’t pay well, it did give her valuable experience. When the hospital scheduled her to work over the holidays, she’d been forced to agree or lose her position.
    Megan rested a hand on Peggy’s shoulder. “You know me. It’s my job to worry about you. And I don’t want you to think you have to run interference between Casey and me, if that’s why you’re here.”
    “Hey, can’t I just come home when I want to? Without an ulterior motive?”
    “Of course, and I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you, too. I’m just sorry you got caught up in that business in the parking lot last night.”
    “Don’t worry. In a day or two I’ll just think of it as a good look into the minds of a couple of psychopaths. Some up-close training, free of charge.”
    Megan turned her sister to face her, searching her features for some sign of damage, some sign of unhappiness, as she always did. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about psychiatry?”
    Peggy smiled. “Why not? We need a psychiatrist in this family.”
    “Are you kidding? You’ll be so busy with relatives, you won’t have time for anybody else.”
    “No problem. I’ll just charge double. The way you always overcharge them for drinks.”
    “I don’t overcharge, they overtip. But Uncle Den on your couch?” Megan pretended to shudder. “Maybe you should try sports medicine. There’s not an athlete in the bunch.”
    “We don’t have to decide right now, do we? If I don’t get the chowder out to Uncle Den, who knows what else he’ll find to keep him occupied.”
    Megan dropped her hand. “Put me on your schedule for a good long talk, would you? I’d like to catch up.”
    Peggy’s smile disappeared. “You’d like to grill me. And a warning’s in order. I don’t want to be grilled. I just needed to be here with my sisters, and I needed some downtime. Okay?”
    There was an edge to Peggy’s soft voice that took Megan by surprise. “How much downtime?”
    “As much as I need. Can you respect that?”
    Megan’s internal radar was flashing Mayday, but she nodded. “Sure. I’m here if and when you want to talk. Otherwise I’ll stick to the weather and next season’s batting lineup.”
    Peggy relaxed a little. “The Indians are always safe.”
    “Unless they’re losing.”
    Peggy set the chowder on her tray. “Bite your tongue.”
    Back in the saloon, Megan chatted with more relatives and patrons and filled a few glasses before she crossed to the corner by the door, where Peggy was now chatting with an aunt and uncle. Frank Grogan stood as Megan approached, and held out his arms. She dutifully went into them for a kiss and hug.
    Deirdre Grogan reached out for a hug, too. She was a small, feminine woman who always seemed on the verge of an important revelation. Once her hair had been the copper of Casey’s, but