Rainy Day Sisters Read Online Free

had stitched herself, the Edwardian washing pitcher and basin she’d found at the antiques fair in Cockermouth. And then she wondered why she cared.
    A mug slipped from her hand and broke in the bottom of the farmhouse sink she’d bought from a reclamation center. She swore softly under her breath and picked up the shattered pieces, swearing again when a jagged shard of pottery cut into her thumb, and a bright red drop of blood welled up. She wrapped the broken pieces in a paper towel and threw them in the bin before putting her thumb in her mouth and sucking at the cut.
    Then she reached for a sponge and wiped the table, swiping at the droplets of tea and the sprinkling of sugar granules that Lucy had left. Having her sister stay was going to make a mess in all sorts of ways, and stir up unwanted feelings in herself. And that was something she hadn’t expected.
    It had seemed to be both simple and generous, to invite Lucy here when her life had fallen apart in spectacular Lucy style. Lucy, Juliet had long noted from afar, never seemed to do anything by halves, or with any modicum of caution. She jumped into situations, relationships, and even college degrees with far more enthusiasm than sense. Juliet had, with a kind of smug pleasure at her own neatly ordered life, periodically checked Lucy’s enthusiastic Facebook updates:
Changed my course from history to art! So excited
and
Moved to a converted warehouse in South Boston. Love it!!!!
Never mind that she’d already done two years of her history degree, and changing to art necessitated a further two semesters of college, or that the converted warehouse hadn’t actually yet been converted into a livable dwelling. Lucy leaped. Juliet looked.
    Except, in this instance, Juliet had been the one to leap, by inviting her half sister to stay. And while it had seemed so easy when she’d suggested it on the phone—here she was, the organized, older sister, swooping in to take care of poor Lucy—now it felt . . . unsettling.
    She propped her elbows on the sink and gazed out again at the muddy fields. Peter Lanford was coming down the dirt road from Bega Farm in his battered old Land Rover, probably to check on the sheep he kept in the pasture in back of Juliet’s garden. She and Peter had gotten to know each other a little, both through their properties adjoining and being on the village’s parish council together. She might almost call him a friend, and she didn’t really do friendship. Or even relationships in general, outside of ones that were clearly and comfortingly defined. Employer/employee. Patient/doctor. Innkeeper/guest. What category did half sister fall into?
    It had been shockingly disconcerting to open the door and see Lucy standing there in the flesh, with the same sandy hair, gray eyes, and freckles that Juliet possessed, and yet looking so different. Her ballet flats, purple tights, and miniskirt decorated with lemons of all things had been ridiculous and inappropriate for the weather; Juliet was, as ever, wearing jeans and a fleece. Lucy’s hair had frizzed about her face, while Juliet kept hers subdued in a sensible ponytail. And yet there could be no denying they were sisters. Half sisters. They even had the same slightly crooked nose. Whoever their respective fathers were, neither of them seemed to have passed on many of his genes.
    And as Lucy had stepped into the foyer, seeming suddenly to fill up the space that had always been hers alone, Juliet had had a sudden and overwhelming urge to push her half sister right back out the door and then slam it in her face.
    Not exactly the most sisterly of impulses, and not one she’d expected to have. She was being kind and generous to poor, hopeless Lucy. That was what was going on here. That was what she’d signed up for.
    A knock sounded on the door, and blowing out a breath, Juliet turned from the sink. A few seconds later Rachel Campbell appeared in