Today's Reading
"When do they think you'll get your luggage?" Savannah asked through the closed door, as if she were listening to Cora's thoughts.
"I don't know." Cora shrugged on the "Sister Squad" shirt. "Two or three days is what they told me." Although the tracking information online still listed her status as "locating" last time she checked. She gathered up her wet clothing and walked out of the bathroom in her matching pj's. "In the meantime, I guess I should throw these in the dryer."
"Here, let me." Savannah didn't even wait for an answer. She just took the clothes and disappeared into the primary bedroom and ensuite bathroom, which, Cora happened to know from previous visits, was where the stackable washer and dryer were located.
Bianca tucked her arm through Cora's and steered her toward the couch in the living room. "You should've reminded me that you don't do long road trips by yourself. I would've flown out to Houston and driven with you. You probably would've let me control the music."
"You had full control of the music until you proved you had questionable taste. That one's on you," Savannah said as she rejoined them in the living room. "Cora, are you hungry?"
"Starving," Cora said. "Sounds like road trips also haven't changed much."
"Have you heard the stuff she listens to? It's like a bad satire on indie garage bands." Savannah pulled a glass dish out of the fridge and held it up.
"Leftover spaghetti?"
Cora nodded and Savannah popped the dish into the microwave.
"It has soul," Bianca retorted. "And passion. Which is a lot more than you can say about the boring formulaic stuff you listen to."
Cora flopped down on the couch. "That's okay. I still wouldn't have let you plug in. My car, my music."
Bianca gasped in mock offense. "Seriously? My own sister."
"Also, I'm not sleeping on the top bunk in that room." Cora nodded in the direction of the room she'd be sharing with Bianca. "Or the extra mattress they keep under the bed as a trundle."
Bianca crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "On what grounds?"
"Seniority." Cora didn't miss a beat.
"What? Are we, like, twelve?" Bianca threw a pillow at her sister, as if she were answering her own question.
"Ah, fighting over beds. Feels like old times." Savannah handed Cora the steaming dish of spaghetti fresh from the microwave. "Either of you is welcome to sleep with me in the primary until Chris and the girls get here in a few weeks."
"In that tiny double?" Bianca wrinkled her nose. "Pass."
"I think it's a queen," Savannah offered.
"Still pass."
Cora tried to imagine Savannah, her husband, and their two little girls crammed into the tiny bedroom that barely seemed big enough to hold the bed. "I'll let you enjoy the space while you have it."
Savannah shrugged. "Suit yourselves. But while we're on the subject of housekeeping, I have another beach house tradition." She swiped a circle of posterboard off the kitchen table and held it up. "Ta-da!"
"Is that the chore wheel?" Cora asked, not bothering to edit the horrified tone from her voice.
"Yes!" Savannah beamed as if the tone didn't bother her. "Just like Mom used to make. With a few updates, of course."
The circle was divided into three sections, each containing cheerful script and hand-drawn illustrations. "Each section has the list of daily and weekly chores you'll be responsible for." Savannah gestured to the chart, clearly proud of what she'd done.
Bianca smirked. "You're kidding, right?"
Savannah shot her the most mom-look Cora had ever seen. "We always had a chore wheel at the beach house."
"For the record, Bianca is old enough to do the regular chores now. She doesn't get to do half the list because she's a baby." Cora blew on her steaming dinner.
"You'd better get ready to rethink your stance on the top bunk, big sis, because you can't have it both ways."
Savannah sighed as if this whole conversation had exhausted her. "Relax. If either of you had bothered to look in the room, you'd see there are two sets of bunk beds now. No one has to sleep on the top."
Bianca looked at Cora. "Do you think we still fit on a bunk bed?" Cora shrugged. "I can't even remember the last time I tried."
"You'll fit. It'll be fine. But back to the wheel." Savannah held the wheel out in front of her. "We each have a color, see? You're responsible for everything inside your color. Then we'll rotate each week."
Cora twirled spaghetti onto her fork. "Yeah, I'm not doing that."
This excerpt ends on page 12 of the paperback edition.
Monday we begin the book Murder in the Appalachians by Susan Furlong.
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