Page 3 of Waves of Time

But when she finally looked over at Sam, Sam’s face was beet-red with anger. “Why do you always have to act like that!” she cried.

Hilary gaped at her, at a loss. “Like what?”

“Like you’re better than everyone else!” Sam cried. “Just because you work as this hot-shot interior designer, you think your opinion on all things related to art is better than anyone else’s?”

“I don’t actually think that.”

“You do! And you always have!” Sam shot back. “I just wanted to have you over to show off my new art piece because I loved it, Hilary! I loved it so much!”

“Well, it was ugly. And it was fake,” Hilary returned.

Sam’s hands were in fists. She continued to glare at Hilary, who glared back with just as much intensity. Hilary half-expected their mother, Estelle, to storm in and demand that they stop yelling at one another.

Suddenly, Hilary’s cell phone buzzed in her purse.

“Just take it,” Sam ordered. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, anyway.”

It was her boss from Sotheby’s, Josh, with whom she’d worked for the past ten years. Hilary brightened her voice as she answered it, her eyes out the window to avoid Sam and the mangled chandelier. She half-expected Josh to be able to sense that she was in the company of the ugliest chandelier in the world and fire her on the spot.

“Hilary, darling!” Josh greeted. “How are you doing today?”

“Just fine, Josh. Great, actually.”

Behind Hilary, Sam scoffed and stepped gingerly over the back of the couch, probably to fetch a broom and some hard shoes.

“Listen, I have a client for you. He wants help as soon as possible on his new penthouse apartment in San Francisco and says his eyes are simply dying with boredom at the current state of the place. I told him I have the answer to his prayers, and her name is Hilary Coleman.”

“You’re too kind, Josh.” Hilary blushed slightly. “San Francisco, huh? I haven’t been out there in ages.”

“I’m going to have my secretary book a flight for you tomorrow,” Josh continued. “That isn’t too soon for you, is it?”

“Anything for you, Josh,” Hilary said.

“And I’m assuming you want your little intern to come along with you?”

Hilary laughed. “Aria is a necessary part of my work these days.”

“As long as you train her to be half as good as you are, I think we can take her on at Sotheby’s within the next few years,” Josh promised. “The two of you have such vision! Can you imagine where we’d be without you?”

Hilary got off the phone and turned to find Sam in a pair of working boots, her hair tied up, sweeping glass shards mixed with plastic into a dustpan.

“Let me help you,” Hilary said with a sigh.

Sam lifted her gaze. “Don’t bother. Sounds like you’re needed elsewhere.” Her tone was icy.

“Sam…” Hilary sighed, wanting to ask:why were they always so frigid with one another? Why couldn’t they overcome the darkness of their relationship, especially now, after their family had come back together again? Where had this lingering resentment come from?

But as she gazed down at her sister, another white spot appeared in the corner of her vision, and it frightened Hilary so much that she didn’t say anything at all.

“Just go,” Sam insisted, walking around the couch to put down a piece of cardboard for Hilary to walk safely toward the door. “I’ll see you when you get back from California.”

“All right,” Hilary said. “Take care.”

ChapterTwo

Robby’s Crab Cabin, located right off the pier, had been Aria’s place of employment since she’d left Tufts University a year and a half ago. As a server, her tips boomed in the summertime, and as she still lived with her mother in their lilac Victorian home, she was able to save most of the money she made for a future she still wasn’t sure about. It was devastating to her that she had to get older, that she had so many decisions to make. It didn’t seem fair that she couldn’t be approximately sixteen forever, living with her mother in their cozy home.

It was four-thirty at the restaurant, still long before the dinner rush, and Aria wiped down tables and sang along to the radio on the speakers. Her boss, Robby, was in the back doing payroll, and her co-worker, Violet, would be in by five. Aria loved this time of the day best before everything got frantic, at which point her thoughts spun with dinner orders, of various types of fish, potatoes made in different ways, thousands of sauces and spices, and so on. Everyone who came in seemed to have some kind of allergy or food requirement, and it was often hard to keep up with. She lived in fear that she would accidentally give gluten to a gluten-intolerant or crab to someone who was allergic. So far, though, that hadn’t happened.

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