Sisters in Love (Snow Sisters, Book One: Love in Bloom Series #1) by Melissa Foster Page B

people
who could relay what they were thinking—even if they didn’t realize
that what they said wasn’t exactly what troubled them. People were
easy for Danica. She could tell when someone was twisted in knots
and needed help finding the way to straighten their spine. Art, not
so much.
    “What do you think it represents?” Danica
asked.
    Michelle shrugged. “I just like looking at
it.”
    Danica was glad that Michelle was taking
interest in something. Now, if she could only get her talking.
“Does it remind you of anything?” She looked at the picture,
turning her head one way, then the other. There were two eyes, but
they were floating amidst what looked like a child’s painting of
fish gone wrong and uneven streaks, with splotches of colors and
what looked like two mouths eking out of the corners of the canvas.
Something that looked strangely like a three-fingered hand reached
down from the top edge.
    Michelle glanced over with a wrinkled brow.
“I’m not sure. I just remember it from last time, and I like
it.”
    Danica walked around the little room,
secretly watching Michelle. Michelle crossed her arms, then
uncrossed them. She put her hands on her hips, then dropped them,
as if her arms were some sort of strange appendages that she wasn’t
used to. She obviously felt out of place in school, hadn’t had a
boyfriend the entire time Danica had known her, and wasn’t about to
open up today. Come to think of it, Danica hadn’t had a boyfriend
in an even longer time. No time for one , she reminded
herself, and thought about the files she’d review later in the
afternoon. Her professional life had seeped into every spare moment
she had. Maybe it was time for a change, she mused.
    Danica had to find a way to break through to
Michelle. She sidled up next to her. “Maybe it reminds you of your
life? You know, all the pieces are there, but you can’t really make
sense of them right now?”
    “Whatever,” Michelle said, and walked out of
the room with Danica on her heels.
    Danica’s cell phone buzzed, indicating a new
message had been left on her office voicemail. She’d be sure to
check it as soon as she was done spending time with Michelle.
     
    Two hours later, Danica and Michelle stood on
Nola's front porch. Michelle opened the door, and a familiar smell
that Danica likened to the smell of old people’s houses—a mixture
of mothballs, too-warm air, and floral perfume—wafted out the door
of the small brick rambler. Danica made a mental note to remember
that Michelle was only fourteen and the smell of patchouli was
probably cool and fun to her while Grandma’s house was the epitome
of someplace she wouldn’t want to bring friends to visit. She’d
have to find someplace hip to take her next week. Maybe she’d ask
Kaylie for a suggestion.

Chapter Ten
    At seven o’clock Monday morning, Danica sat
in her office reviewing the file of her first client and ignoring
the flashing red message light on her phone. She always arrived
early to prepare for the day, and most days she had a client come
in before they had to go to their own job. She set the file down on
her neatly organized desk and glanced at the time. Like every
morning, she had just enough time to run down to the local café and
grab a cup of coffee before her client arrived. She stared at the
blinking light. She’d already let it go overnight. Ever since
Saturday night, Danica had been thinking about trying to strike a
balance between work and some sort of social life. Who was she
kidding? She had no social life, and the one time she tried to go
out and pretend to have one, she’d obviously gone way overboard and
drank too much, which she not only regretted, but was terribly
embarrassed about. Not answering her messages over the weekend was
one of the changes she hoped to make. Reclaiming her weekends was a
good start, she decided, but as she noticed the time—7:07—her foot
tapped and her heart raced. It was one thing to leave messages
until