Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

"I'M SO GLAD my brother married into your family," Lavinia said on the phone the next month, as she and Donna looked through the digital photo proofs from the wedding in a shared online folder. Donna sat cross-legged on her bed, her laptop resting on her actual lap, while Lavinia's was balanced on a treadmill desk in her high-rise Boston apartment overlooking Fenway Park.

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," Donna joked. She wasn't directly involved in the early drama between Lavinia and her older sisters, particularly Audrey and Cat, but she knew things had gotten off to a rocky start.

"These photos are a content goldmine," Lavinia said, brushing past Donna's comment. "And to think there will be five more weddings to come! Let's see if we can get one of your sisters married every year for the next 5 years. That would really help the blog's bottom line."

"Looks like your wish will be coming true next year at least," Donna said.

"Have you heard anything?" Lavinia asked breathlessly.

"Nothing from Cat," Donna said. And she should know, as they were currently roommates in the apartment above Abba and Papa Walt's detached garage. "Any hints from Liam?"

"Not directly," Lavinia said. "But a little birdie tells me he was spotted ring shopping last month."

"A little birdie known as Veronica Westerbrook?"

"Naturally," Lavinia said. "Mom's intimately acquainted with all the major jewelers in Boston. And she's in a book club with Liam's mother. Not that they read the books. They just get together to gossip, show off their houses, and drink."

"My kind of book club," Donna laughed.

"You probably see Liam more than I do these days, though," Lavinia said. "I don't know why he doesn't just move to California officially."

"That's one of the problems, actually," Donna said. "Of all of us, Cat has always been the biggest homebody. She figures since Liam isn't very close to his family, he should just move here to be closer to hers."

"But Liam's career is in Boston," Lavinia said.

"Hence the conundrum," Donna said. "But Cat seems to think he could do that work anywhere."

"Oh, I'm sure they'll figure it out," Lavinia said. "Ty had no trouble relocating, after all. And he doesn't seem to be overly suffocated by the lot of you."

Donna could hear the begrudging affection in Lavinia's voice. Not too long ago, those very same words coming from Lavinia's mouth would have had a bitter edge.

"We try to give him space when he needs it," Donna laughed. "We're overwhelming, I get it."

"But at least you're photogenic," Lavinia said. "Did you see the one of all seven of you under the treehouse?"

"That's my favorite!" Donna gushed. It was an outtake as the photographer was trying to get the sisters posed for a formal shot. Audrey and Betty were laughing into each others' eyes. Donna stood in semi-profile, reaching up to fix Betty's hair. Elizabeth had an arm around Cat, who gazed directly at the camera. And the twins were hamming it up, pretending to strike their best model poses, with hands on hips and pursed lips. Frank Sinatra in his bowtie sat just barely in the foreground, perfectly posed, mouth open in a panting smile, as though he were the star of the photo shoot, and the Gable sisters were his props. (Which was also how he lived his whole life, to be honest.)

Donna's second favorite photo from the day was of Gavin and Betty embracing in the tree house, with the six remaining sisters holding hands in a circle around the tree trunk, looking up at them. The photo was zoomed out to capture the entire tree, with the sunset peeking through the leaves and the twinkle lights aglow. You couldn't see any individual person in the photo very well, but the overall effect was magical.

"I'm serious about this one wedding a year thing," Lavinia said, but her light tone belied her words. "If Cat and Liam have next year covered, and I think they do, that means you're up in 2010. And how old will Elizabeth be in 2011?"

"She'll be 20. So that'll be a no," Donna laughed. "And you can forget about Ginger or Grace for 2012. They're graduating from high school that summer."

"Fine, fine," Lavinia said. "But let's talk about you. Would you prefer a summer or fall wedding in 2010? Or perhaps winter, to give you more time?"

"Hold up, hold up," Donna said. "We're forgetting about one important person here."

"Who?"

"YOU, dummy," Donna laughed. "And you actually have a boyfriend. Why can't you be the one to get married in 2010?"

"Hmm," Lavinia said, her voice taking on a warm, honey-like tone—which tended to happen any time Mason was mentioned. "That might not be a bad idea. I'll see if I can manage 2010. You just plan on 2011 for me, would you?"

"I'll get right on that," Donna laughed. She wondered if Lavinia had forgotten that Donna was a whole decade younger than she was. She didn't need to be in any hurry. Least not for the purposes of blog content.

The family trend so far was to wait to get married until after one's brain had fully developed—Audrey at 28 1/2 and Betty one month shy of her 28 th birthday. Donna intended to follow suit.

Besides, it was hard to imagine finding her forever someone in just 3 short years. She'd still only be 23. Which, she realized, was Cat's exact age right now! And she would probably be heading down the aisle within the next year.

Somehow, 23 didn't seem too young for Cat, though. She'd always been an old soul. Mature beyond her years. Quiet and careful. Disciplined and meticulous. In other words, Donna's polar opposite.

Donna hopped off her bed and stepped over a pair of shoes, relieved that Cat couldn't say anything about it, now that she had her very own room. With a door that could be shut to hide the clutter within.

She headed to the kitchen to see what delectable leftovers Cat had left in the refrigerator, encountering three sticky notes written in Cat's impeccable penmanship on the way.

On top of a towel protruding ever so slightly into the hallway from the bathroom floor, a pink note read, "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!" Donna laughed and obeyed the note, only to discover a green note stuck to the bathroom faucet: "Clean me, Seymour!" So Donna rinsed this morning's crusty toothpaste spit out of the sink, appreciating the Little Shop of Horrors reference. Cat certainly knew her audience.

In the kitchen, a blue note reading "Disgrossting!" was stuck to the top of Donna's lunch container from the previous day, which hadn't been emptied of the remaining bits of lettuce and salad dressing. Rather than subject herself to the foul smell that awaited her, Donna threw the whole thing away. Problem solved.

Donna really was trying to clean up her act, even though it felt as unnatural to her as speaking a foreign language. And Cat was doing her best to absorb the concept that there was more to life than crumb-free countertops. Living together was an exercise in patience for them both.

Nobody expected Donna's and Cat's living arrangement to work out. They'd shared a bedroom for a year or two in their teens—a situation that their mother remedied as soon as possible.

Even back then, Cat kept her half of the room tidy. She hung framed artwork of sheet music overlaid with rose petals above her headboard. She carefully made her bed each morning, and stacked her decorative pillows neatly on the floor each night, artfully returning them to the bed each morning.

Donna, meanwhile, put the "throw" into throw pillows. They spent more time strewn about the room than adorning her bed. Her side was an explosion of color and chaos, with a perpetually rumpled bed and clothing piled on the floor. She used tape and sticky tack to cover her walls with posters, theater playbills, and photos taken at school dances.

At one point, the sisters ran a line of blue painter's tape down the center of the room. Any objects that crossed over the line became the property of the other person. It's not hard to guess which sister was more prone to losing objects and which tended to collect them.

But now that they were adults sharing "The Launchpad"—Donna's nickname for the apartment at Abba and Papa Walt's house—no tape was needed. Just the occasional passive-aggressive sticky note to preserve sisterly harmony.

It also helped that Donna was rarely there, busy as she was with two jobs, community college classes, and evening theater. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she was home in the evening and Cat wasn't.

Donna found some leftover wonton soup and popped it in the microwave for dinner, tapping her neon-green fingernails on the cobalt blue countertop tiles. The place looked roughly the same as it had when Julie lived here with her two tiny daughters, getting her bearings after the tragic accident that killed her first husband. Almost more than her own parents, Abba and Papa Walt had been Julie's primary lifeline at the time. And they'd gone on to offer the living quarters to any of their grandchildren—biological or otherwise—who needed a place to stay while they figured out who they were and what they wanted to do with their lives.

This was where Audrey and then Betty spent their first few years out of high school, followed by Betty and Cat, and now Cat and Donna.

Finished with her soup, Donna sprawled across the sofa in the dark, facing down a rare evening alone, with no rehearsal to go to and no roommate to talk to. Cat usually spent her mornings baking at a gourmet cupcake shop, her afternoons teaching private violin lessons, and her evenings padding around the apartment in cozy socks, doing small catering jobs for family and friends, organizing closets and drawers, and cleaning for fun. For fun! Donna couldn't wrap her head around it.

But tonight, Liam was in town, and Cat had dragged him to WonderLand again. Donna used to be puzzled that her refined, classic, beautiful, old-soul sister was so drawn to Southern California's favorite amusement park. Doubly puzzled that she'd roped Liam into her obsession. But Liam was the one who'd helped Donna make sense of it.

"So you know Cat, she loves nothing more than fulfilling expectations, right?" Liam had said. "You know how she doesn't know what to do with herself if she's not doing something for someone or checking something off a list?"

"For sure," Donna said.

"Well at WonderLand, fun is the expectation. She can just walk through those gates, and she knows what the job is. Have fun, let go, be silly. Cat at WonderLand might just be my favorite Cat of all."

"Meanwhile I am a walking, talking amusement park all on my own," Donna mused, "which is why you'll rarely find me at the alleged ‘happiest place in the world.'"

"There might actually be something to that," Liam said.

"Also, I'm afraid of flying monkeys."

"As you should be," Liam said, rubbing the spot above his ear where he'd been concussed by a Wizard of Oz-themed ride while defending Cat from a saxophone-playing stalker.

Amused at the absurdity of the memory, Donna propped her aching feet, encased in one fuzzy polka-dot sock and one striped, on a pile of pillows at the end of the couch. Dancing in character shoes all week had taken its toll. She was a Hot Box Girl in a local production of Guys and Dolls . Opening night was next week, and she'd been driving Cat crazy for weeks with her faux New York accent. She even used the accent at the diner. More than one customer asked what part of Brooklyn she was from, which pleased her to no end.

Her accent was even better than the actress playing Miss Adelaide, one of the female leads. Everyone said so. Donna would have killed to play Miss Adelaide, but she didn't have a stand-out solo voice like Trynn Gentry's. Nobody could compete with Trynn, and Trynn knew it.

When a key finally rattled in the doorknob, Donna had become one with the sofa. She couldn't be bothered to get up and let Cat in. The rattling paused and Donna heard muffled voices and laughter on the landing. Cat and Liam were taking their sweet time parting, as they always did. That narrow landing at the top of the stairs had seen more action than the inside of the apartment. Good thing it was on the opposite side of the garage, so it couldn't be seen from the main house.

When Liam visited, he slept in one of Abba and Walt's spare rooms, out of respect for their traditional views. At first, Liam had insisted on staying at a hotel, but he proved to be no match for Abba's powers of persuasion. And, having bonded with Papa Walt over a shared love of classic cars, it had long ceased to be awkward.

Eventually, Cat slipped in and shut the door behind her, leaning against it with a dreamy look on her face, her hands clasped over her heart. She clearly hadn't spotted Donna yet, lurking there beneath the window. Donna was just about to speak when she noticed Cat stretch her hand in front of her, fingers splayed. Her left hand. She angled it this way and that, trying to catch a few rays from the streetlights shining in through the window.

Forgetting about her feet, Donna shot up from the couch with a squeal, startling Cat half to death.

"He did it! He did it! He popped the question!" Donna yelped, jumping up and down. Then she grabbed Cat's hands and started dancing her around the room and singing. "He liked it so he went and put a ring on it! He liked it so he went and put a ring on it, oh-oh-OH-oh-oh-OH!"

She heard Liam chuckling as he descended the stairs outside her window. Cat's initially startled face broke into a wide, infectious smile.

"You always give the best reactions," Cat laughed, breathless, leaning into Donna's fierce hug. "I'm glad you're the first to know."

"I'm the first to know?" Donna yelped. "Take that Audrey, take that Betty, take that Mom and Dad." She punched the air in front of her as if she was knocking them out one by one.

"But you don't get to steal my thunder," Cat warned. "You have to let me tell everyone myself. I know it will practically kill you. But mum's the word."

Donna groaned.

"Okay, okay, but be quick about it," she said. "I can't keep this in for long. What brought him around, besides being over the moon in love with you, of course."

"I think it was Betty's wedding," Cat said. "Love being in the air, and all that."

"Can you get married next year?" Donna asked. "It would really mean so much to Lavinia."

Cat laughed.

"Not sure we can wait that long," Cat said. "We're thinking October."

"Well Lavinia will have to deal," Donna said. "I'm so excited for you! And I have 5,000 questions for you, but I will save them. Do I get to help with the dresses?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Cat said.

Donna squealed again.