Meet Me at Sunset (Evening Island) - Olivia Miles Page 0,2

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Hope sailed into the room in navy linen pants and a pale pink blouse, looking fresh and relaxed. Her honey-colored hair trailed down her back in a low ponytail. Gemma caught a waft of her peony-scented perfume as she reached in for a hug, and whispered in Gemma’s ear, “Thank God you’re here.”

Gemma pulled back, perplexed, but still smiling. It was only when she held out the gifts that she noticed the slightly wild look to her sister’s eyes. It was the stress of the party, she decided. Hope was too hard on herself, always had been. No doubt she wanted everything to look perfect. And it certainly couldn’t be easy to host fifteen four-year-olds when you had those white sofas.

They walked into the equally white kitchen, where a three-tiered cake with pink frosting was resting on the center island. It had been doused in colorful sprinkles, looking like something you’d see front and center in a bakery window, but Gemma knew her sister well enough to know that Hope had made it herself.

Through the screen doors, Gemma saw that Rose and Victoria were dancing around with fistfuls of balloons in bright, happy colors that were a contrast to their white party dresses. On their heads they wore gold crowns that matched their gold Mary Jane shoes, to show everyone that they were the birthday girls. The entire patio had been set up with tiny tables for the kids, a food station for the parents (complete with a drinks bar), and centerpieces of colorful spring arrangements. At the edge of the fenced-in yard, Gemma saw that a man was leading a white pony by a glittering gold harness.

Gemma squinted out the window as something caught her eye. “Is that?” It couldn’t be! The pony wasn’t just a pony. It was…She turned, catching Hope’s failed attempt at a casual shrug. “It is! Oh, Hope! A unicorn?”

“The girls think it’s real, so don’t tell them it isn’t!”

Gemma laughed and turned back to the window to admire the majestic gold horn that was attached to the pony’s head by a strap.

“Did you tell Mom?” she asked, accepting a glass of chilled white wine. It went down easily and helped dull the nagging dread she felt about her deadline. Coming up here was always a good distraction, she thought. She hadn’t thought about Sean in—she checked the clock on the wall and calculated how long it had been since she’d gotten off the train—eleven minutes!

Her shoulders slumped. Now she’d have to restart the timer.

Hope took a sip from her own glass. Gemma noted that her fingernails were painted the exact shade of pink as her blouse. Growing up, Gemma always thought Hope adhered to these habits because it was expected of her, but as she’d carried these traits through to her married life, it became clear that Hope preferred it this way.

“I sent her a picture but I think they’re in France now, right? Or was it Spain?”

“Neither,” Gemma replied. “They’re in Iceland. I’m surprised it’s not on your calendar,” she joked. Everything was on Hope’s calendar. Her entire life was planned out by the hour.

The doorbell rang, and Hope sighed, took another swig of wine, and then breezed into the hall. A moment later, voices could be heard greeting each other, and Gemma took this as her cue to go outside, where Evan was now trying to keep the girls from the pony—ahem, unicorn.

“Auntie Gemma!” the girls cried when they saw her. They ran toward her, arms outstretched, baby teeth on full display, and for a moment, all was right in the world.

Gemma squatted down, opening her arms to pull them in, hoping that she wouldn’t accidentally spill the glass of wine she was clutching in one hand on the back of Rose’s white dress.

“We have a unicorn,” Victoria said, whispering reverently and then clasping her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

“I saw!” Gemma rounded her eyes, playing along.

When the twins ran toward the door to the house to greet their friends, she saw Evan raise an eyebrow. “Hope had to have a unicorn.”

“Or the girls did?” Gemma tried.

Evan gave her a knowing look before he crossed the patio toward the door to greet some new arrivals.

The backyard filled quickly, and more than once she heard Hope remark that she was happy the rain had cleared. Rain meant no unicorn, Gemma supposed. It also meant a lot of people in a very pristine house, many under the age of five. Really,