Chapter 1
"Kylie, Terri Sinclair here. I just wanted to RSVP for your parents’ party. I had a quick question, so give me a call. Can't wait for the surprise!"
Kylie set her groceries on the counter, giving up any hope of grabbing the phone before Mrs. Sinclair hung up. She'd call her back once the food was put away. The anniversary party was going to give her ulcers. She was sure of it.
"You're fine. Just breathe, Kylie. Do your yoga breathing. If that doesn't work, have a glass of wine,” she mumbled and slammed a bottle of Chardonnay on the counter. “Jesus, now I'm talking to myself.” She hit the memory button for Fawn's work number and cradled her cell phone to her ear.
"Fawn's Designs,” her sister sang into the phone with more confidence than Kylie ever could have mustered. Fawn sounded as if she headed a mega corporation when in reality she ran a one-woman show.
"I just wanted you to know that I have hit the point where I am talking to myself.” Fawn laughed loudly and Kylie held the phone away from her ear. Her sister could find humor in everything. Damn her. “It's not funny."
"Would you please calm down about this whole thing?” Fawn soothed. “It is really no big deal. We'll have all their friends over. The family will come. We'll surprise the hell out of them and then the usual."
"The usual?"
"We eat, drink, and be merry! They think they're coming to your house for a housewarming, so the surprise part is taken care of. Where's the stress in that?"
Kylie fought the urge to beat her cell phone against the counter. It would serve Fawn right to have an eardrum blown out. While she ran her design company, Kylie worked from home. It was easy for her baby sister to dump the majority of the prep work on Kylie. You're home all day. I have to go to the office. You can send your work in on the Internet any time you want ... Kylie eyed the phone and shook her head. Best not to destroy a two hundred dollar phone when what she really wanted to do was wring Fawn's slender neck.
"Let's see. There would be the food, the booze, the cake, the gift. All the friggin’ RSVPs I am quickly losing track of. About a billion distant relatives calling to ask if I have any gift suggestions. Gift suggestions! I barely know my name these days and I don't know what the hell I'm getting them. How am I supposed to give gift suggestions?"
"Breathe!"
"Shut up, Fawn! Here's the deal. You are now in charge of the booze. That would be several kegs of microbrew and wine. Do. Not. Buy. Hard. Liquor. I can't stress that enough. If you show up with whiskey and vodka, I'll have half the family camping out. Especially Uncle Bob. He can't handle his liquor but he sure thinks he can. I do not want to wake up to Uncle Bob sleeping on my sofa in his Scooby-Doo boxer shorts. Once was enough, thanks."
"That was ten years ago.” Fawn giggled.
"It still haunts me. Now I have to go call Terri Sinclair back and answer whatever question it is she has. Most likely she'll want a gift suggestion."
"Wait!” Fawn screeched as Kylie started to disconnect.
"What?"
"What kind of beer? What kind of wine? I don't have time to do all this. I have to work."
"Well so do I, darling. I have assignments backed up so far I'm about to hyperventilate. Get any kind of beer you want. Ask the guys at The Liquor Stop for suggestions. They drink beer all day. They'll know what's good. As for wine—duh! Red, white, and blush. Cover all the bases. Now I really have to go. I have a shitload to do and no time to do it. See ya later, toots!"
She hung up and took a deep breath. Wow! She felt a little better. This had been Fawn's bright idea and although she loved her parents dearly and wanted to do something special for them, she hadn't planned on hosting it herself. Her house was still new to her. She'd worked her ass off to earn the money for it. Then worked even harder to get it the way she wanted it. The thought of forty-some people wandering around and touching
"Kylie, Terri Sinclair here. I just wanted to RSVP for your parents’ party. I had a quick question, so give me a call. Can't wait for the surprise!"
Kylie set her groceries on the counter, giving up any hope of grabbing the phone before Mrs. Sinclair hung up. She'd call her back once the food was put away. The anniversary party was going to give her ulcers. She was sure of it.
"You're fine. Just breathe, Kylie. Do your yoga breathing. If that doesn't work, have a glass of wine,” she mumbled and slammed a bottle of Chardonnay on the counter. “Jesus, now I'm talking to myself.” She hit the memory button for Fawn's work number and cradled her cell phone to her ear.
"Fawn's Designs,” her sister sang into the phone with more confidence than Kylie ever could have mustered. Fawn sounded as if she headed a mega corporation when in reality she ran a one-woman show.
"I just wanted you to know that I have hit the point where I am talking to myself.” Fawn laughed loudly and Kylie held the phone away from her ear. Her sister could find humor in everything. Damn her. “It's not funny."
"Would you please calm down about this whole thing?” Fawn soothed. “It is really no big deal. We'll have all their friends over. The family will come. We'll surprise the hell out of them and then the usual."
"The usual?"
"We eat, drink, and be merry! They think they're coming to your house for a housewarming, so the surprise part is taken care of. Where's the stress in that?"
Kylie fought the urge to beat her cell phone against the counter. It would serve Fawn right to have an eardrum blown out. While she ran her design company, Kylie worked from home. It was easy for her baby sister to dump the majority of the prep work on Kylie. You're home all day. I have to go to the office. You can send your work in on the Internet any time you want ... Kylie eyed the phone and shook her head. Best not to destroy a two hundred dollar phone when what she really wanted to do was wring Fawn's slender neck.
"Let's see. There would be the food, the booze, the cake, the gift. All the friggin’ RSVPs I am quickly losing track of. About a billion distant relatives calling to ask if I have any gift suggestions. Gift suggestions! I barely know my name these days and I don't know what the hell I'm getting them. How am I supposed to give gift suggestions?"
"Breathe!"
"Shut up, Fawn! Here's the deal. You are now in charge of the booze. That would be several kegs of microbrew and wine. Do. Not. Buy. Hard. Liquor. I can't stress that enough. If you show up with whiskey and vodka, I'll have half the family camping out. Especially Uncle Bob. He can't handle his liquor but he sure thinks he can. I do not want to wake up to Uncle Bob sleeping on my sofa in his Scooby-Doo boxer shorts. Once was enough, thanks."
"That was ten years ago.” Fawn giggled.
"It still haunts me. Now I have to go call Terri Sinclair back and answer whatever question it is she has. Most likely she'll want a gift suggestion."
"Wait!” Fawn screeched as Kylie started to disconnect.
"What?"
"What kind of beer? What kind of wine? I don't have time to do all this. I have to work."
"Well so do I, darling. I have assignments backed up so far I'm about to hyperventilate. Get any kind of beer you want. Ask the guys at The Liquor Stop for suggestions. They drink beer all day. They'll know what's good. As for wine—duh! Red, white, and blush. Cover all the bases. Now I really have to go. I have a shitload to do and no time to do it. See ya later, toots!"
She hung up and took a deep breath. Wow! She felt a little better. This had been Fawn's bright idea and although she loved her parents dearly and wanted to do something special for them, she hadn't planned on hosting it herself. Her house was still new to her. She'd worked her ass off to earn the money for it. Then worked even harder to get it the way she wanted it. The thought of forty-some people wandering around and touching
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