Page 42 of A Christmas Duet

“Perfect.” That was about the best Hailey had to offer, and Daisy got her two favorite foods all in one processed-food offering.

“What about a salad?” Daisy opened the refrigerator and scrounged inside, shifting items about in search of lettuce.

“I’ll mix that,” Hailey volunteered. She’d picked up a second mixed greens kit when she’d shopped for the night she’d cooked for Jay.

Working together, the two sisters managed to create a decent meal.

“You know,” Daisy said as they sat across the table from each other. “All I could find in the cupboard was boxed meals. Eating all this processed food isn’t good for you.”

Hailey knew her sister was right. The same lack of fresh foods held true in Portland. At the end of the school day, she was in no mood to attempt anything culinary.

Some of her friends could read recipe books like they were novels. Hailey wasn’t one of them. The effort of figuring out what to make, shopping for the ingredients, then standing over the stove was beyond her, especially when her efforts so often failed. “Frozen dinners are fast and easy. I don’t have time to worry about my diet.”

“You need to take the time,” Daisy said, chastising her. “Feed that great brain of yours, Hailey. Diet is important.”

Hailey snickered. “You’re beginning to sound like Mom.”

Looking aghast, Daisy dropped her fork. “Say it isn’t so.”

Hailey burst out laughing and the two shared a smile.

For the next several minutes they ate in companionable silence.

“Tomorrow night you’re going to be on your own for dinner,” Hailey said. “Jay is taking me out.” Just thinking of their dinner date gave her a happy feeling.

Daisy didn’t reveal any signs of disappointment. “You’re falling for this guy, aren’t you?”

Hailey decided it was best not to feed her sister’s curiosity, and so she left the question unanswered.

“I never thought my big sister would fall for a musician.”

“I’m a musician,” Hailey reminded her.

“Yup,” Daisy said, looking down at her plate. “You were the one in the family who got all the talent.”

“That’s not true,” Hailey insisted, stunned that her sister would even suggest such a thing.

“Look at me, sis,” Daisy mumbled with a soft snicker. “I’m a hot mess, and always have been. You are the golden child, while I’ve always been the black sheep of the family.”

“Don’t say that.” Hailey wanted to wrap her arms around her sister and assure Daisy how deeply she was loved. Not until their earlier conversation had it entered her mind that her little sister would feel inferior, especially when she’d always come across as confident, if not a bit eccentric. Okay, a lot eccentric.

“I can’t seem to find my niche. It isn’t like I can make a career out of macramé and crocheting.”

“Have you tried?”

“Well, yes, I regularly sell pieces at farmers’ markets and art fairs, but I don’t earn enough to support myself.I’d gratefully work at a real job if I could. I know that Mom and Dad don’t want to pay my rent for the rest of their lives. I can’t seem to hold on to employment more than a month or two, no matter how hard I try.”

This looked to be a badly needed second heart-to-heart talk with her sister. “Do you know why that is?” Hailey had assumed Daisy’s lack of success in the business world was all due to her irresponsibility. Her sister didn’t believe in watches or keeping track of time, which was sure to be a detriment to any employer.

“I took a test…” Daisy said, lowering her voice to that of a mere whisper.

Hailey waited for her to continue, but when Daisy didn’t, she prompted her. “What kind of test?”

Daisy squared her shoulders. “I’m dyslexic,” she burst out. “That’s why I always did so poorly in school and why numbers get all twisted up in my mind. I’m terrible when it comes to stuff like that, and reading, too. The words get all jumbled up in my head.”

Stunned speechless, Hailey didn’t know what to say. “Why didn’t anyone figure that out when we were in grade school?” She was aghast that her sister had gone undiagnosed all these years.

“The only thing I can figure is that we moved so often because of Dad’s job. I lost count of how many grade schools I attended.”

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