I nod, and she bounces off to find Grant, to fix the chair issue. I watch her stride away and for the millionth time wonder how she and I are sisters, twins even.
I love my sister. I truly do; but thirty-two years of being second best has done a number on my self-esteem. In my younger years, I aimlessly followed behind her, but lately, my irritation with her has grown. I didn’t always want to be in her shadow. Part of me wants to be completely independent of her, but the other part has no idea how that would work. She is part of me.
Due to my choices, now I live next door to her and run a bakery with her, we’re together all the time, like it’s always been. Pangs of independence exist in me, the desire to be my own person, but there’s no follow-through.
I shouldn’t complain. Life is pretty good. Comfortable house in the suburbs, only a short train ride into the city. Tabitha and I often go into Manhattan for lunch and shopping, sometimes a show in the theater district. Now, our business is thriving. Our reputation high throughout Little Beak, NY and beyond for our specialty cakes and cupcakes. Tabitha is the baker, and I am the decorator. Little Beak Sweets started small in Tabitha’s home kitchen. Now we have a store on Main Street in the upscale town. I love decorating cakes. It’s an art form to me. My creations can be cute and whimsical or elegant and chic. Even sassy and funny. I always do my best to create whatever theme the customer sees in their mind for their occasion.
“Hey, Talia, where do you want me to set this up?” A tall, handsome man with stylish, neatly clipped dark hair emerges from the French doors on the patio. Zach. My husband. He holds a dinosaur pinata in his right hand.
“Oh, hang it on the tree over here.” I point.
“Whatever you say, beautiful,” Zach says, winking at me.
“Always a charmer,” I tease back. “Just not too high.”
“So, six-year-old height.”
“Right.” I laugh.
He smiles at me and nods, going about his task. I turn back to the cake table and eye it one more time to make sure everything is in order. Zach. Kind, loving Zach is the one thing I have but Tabitha does not. Sure, she has Grant, a nice guy, if a bit consumed with himself. But Zach is thoughtful, attentive, sometimes a bit overemotional, but that’s better than distant, in my opinion.
Zach grew up with us in our little town in the Finger Lakes area. We’d been neighbors and friends since childhood, nestled in the beautiful town of Watkins Glen. I always harbored a crush on him, but he’d had an unrequited crush on Tabitha, at least until after college, when we started dating. We fell hard for each other. Love, marriage, a life together. Hopefully, one day, a baby. It’s something we dream about happening in our lives. But every month comes the hope and then the disappointment. Tabitha frequently asks when we are going to have a baby, even though she knows that we are trying but it’s not happening. If I mention to her how I don’t want constant reminders of our struggle, her response would be I’m being oversensitive. I’m the sensitive one in the family. Like that’s a bad thing. But Zach is always there for me. He is my rock. I couldn’t imagine life without him in it.
I’m still staring at the two-tiered dinosaur cake with red frosted lava flowing down the left side when a loud horn breaks into my thoughts. My head jerks up and my gaze travels to Zach.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Probably another moving van,” he says. “There was one parked next door. The new neighbor is moving in.”
The new neighbor is all anyone has talked about over the past week on our street. Rumor has it that Anne Graveley bought the house. She’s a mystery author. Not uber famous, but she has had a couple successful novels. I am most curious about her.
“Talia!” Tabitha calls from the side yard. “I need help with these chairs.”
The queen beckons and I run to her, as always.
*
EMAIL SIGNUP
If you’d like to hear when my next book is out, sign up below to my mailing list.
We won’t share your email address, and you can unsubscribe any time.
ALSO BY SALLY ROYER-DERR
High Bluffs Trilogy
A LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR
Huge thanks for reading The Forever Home; I hope you were hooked by Aimee’s dramatic life, both in the present and the past. If you want to join other readers in hearing all about my new releases and bonus content, you can sign up for my newsletter.
If you enjoyed this book and could spare a few moments to leave a review that would be hugely appreciated. Even a short review can make all the difference in encouraging a reader to discover my books for the first time. Thank you so much!
The Forever Home started with a few ideas and developed into a complicated, dramatic story that was exciting to write and I hope exciting for you to read. The changes suggested by my editor, Emily Gowers, gave this story even more dramatic impact. I’m so happy to share this book with my readers and look forward to hearing your thoughts about the story.
Thanks again for being part of this amazing journey with me and I hope you’ll stay in touch—I have so many more stories and ideas to entertain you with!
Sally
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many thanks to my editor, Emily Gowers. Collaborating with you inspires my creativity and working on this book with you has been a pleasure. Also, thank you to the entire team at Storm Publishing. Your support and thoughtfulness are very much appreciated.
Thanks to Mike, Bradley, and Bella—I love you. Thanks to all my family and friends who have supported my writing throughout the years. Your excitement for my writing journey means so much to me.
A warm thank you to my readers for reading my books and writing wonderful reviews. I am deeply grateful for your support.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © Sally Royer-Derr, 2024
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
