“This is nice,” Sarah said softly. “So quiet even though we are in a neighborhood. We hardly spend time together anymore, so I’ve really cherished this past month.”

Meghan felt a surge of guilt—sure, all four sisters were busy, but they had an active text chain. Necessary as they hardly saw each other—usually because she was out of town.

“I think Jessica and Storm have found each other again,” Sarah sighed, her smile turned sly. “What’s that trope called, as they weren’t exactly high school sweethearts but more like frenemies?”

Sarah took a last swallow of her tea and carefully placed the mug under her chair.

“I overheard them arguing that he’d eaten one of her practice tortes for the party—the one Jessica baked using the love spells book. She’d left that unusual fairy she’d found in the garden watching”—Sarah made air quotes for the last word—“while she cooked. She was convinced Storm would declare undying love from the book’s magic rather than falling in love with her naturally.”

“Do you think the book has a touch of magic?” Meghan asked, curiously.

Sarah was always calm in every storm—not given to flights of fancy and wild bouts of imagination like Chloe, or dramatics like Jessica, nor did she have a contentious bone in her body like Meghan.

“It’s kind of a sweet idea, isn’t it?” Sarah asked.

Her green eyes looked luminous with emotion, and it struck Meghan hard in her chest that perhaps Sarah, who’d seemed like she’d be a widow forever, was lonely. Ready to bust out of her widow weeds or whatever they called them in the ridiculous historical romances Sarah and Jessica had loved so much in high school.

“Do you want to fall in love again?” Meghan asked, feeling rather stupid that she hadn’t thought about it before.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

“Love does feel magic,” Sarah said, dreamily. “Have you ever been in love before, Meghan? Do you want to be?”

Meghan felt spotlighted. She looked at the book, propped up on one of the Adirondack chairs like it was listening. Chloe had brought the book out earlier when they’d made s’mores and shared a bottle of bubbly to cap off the evening.

“We were talking about you,” she hedged.

“No.” Sarah tucked feet up on the chair, and played with her long, silky dark auburn hair—taking it out of its customary French twist, running her fingers through it.

She sat forward, expression intent. “We weren’t. We were talking about the book. Jessica and Storm. Chloe and Rustin.” She wound her hair back up again, but looser, a few tendrils falling. “I feel like we’ve all been suspended in a way. Waiting. And then Grandma Millie made her announcement last Christmas that it was time we all stepped up and became more involved in the community. Chloe naturally jumped all in, found the book, and has thrown us all into change chaos.”

“Change can be good,” Meghan said, not sure she believed it.

Sarah laughed, clearly hearing the doubt.

Meghan frowned at her across the fire and tried to ignore the book looking back at her, the remaining gold leaf in the title winked in the firelight. She felt mocked.

“What? I can change.” Not that she had to. Right? Her career was the envy of many of her law school classmates.

“What would you change?” Sarah asked, her expression speculative.

“What would you?” Meghan countered.

“So, like a lawyer.” Sarah’s mouth made a moue. “I moved to Belmont, bought a house, and joined a new practice last year.” She held up her pinkie finger. “Jessica moved to the farmhouse and started rehabbing the greenhouses and supervising some remodeling and designing Grandma Millie wanted to do.” She held up her ring finger. “And”—her middle finger joined it—“Chloe hosted the Movable Feast and fell in love and got engaged.”

Sarah used her index finger to point at her. “What’s next for you?”

Meghan felt pinned to her chair. Judged. Ridiculous as Sarah was the least judgy person she knew.

I’m so alone. Stuck.

The words—plucked from her subconscious—startled her, and she barely swallowed them before blurting them aloud.

“Dream a little, Meghan,” Sarah said softly. “If I had a wand…” She held her arm up and out like she was about to conduct a symphony orchestra and waved her hand like she held the sparkly magic wand she’d received one Christmas long ago. “Or better, yet…” She smiled and picked up the book. “If you could change one thing about your life now, what would it be?”

Meghan grabbed the book from her sister. It felt warm to the touch though the evening was cool. She didn’t want to play this what-if game. They’d done it as kids, and her eyes burned with the memories, and her chest felt compressed. For a moment, she was terrified that she would confess her growing fear that she was on the wrong path. That she barely recognized herself and who she’d once been. She opened her mouth to say… what? She had no idea, but they both turned at the sound of feet running on the newly laid pea gravel.

“Sarah, come quick.” Chloe’s pansy eyes were wild with fear. “It’s Grandma Millie. Something’s wrong. We’re taking her to the hospital.”