The Lemon Sisters Read online

  They made a run to McDonald’s first because . . . well, hash browns and sausage biscuits were Mindy’s very secret passion. Almost as good as orgasms, but since she could hardly remember those, maybe hash browns were even better. She pulled up to the pay window and a teenage kid stuck his head out. “Mindy, right?”

  “Yes,” Mindy said warily.

  He thrust a bag at her. “A guy came through about half an hour ago and paid for your order. He said you were hot, and that you should have a nice day.”

  Mindy turned to look at Brooke in shock.

  “Something you want to tell me?” Brooke asked.

  “It’s Linc. It’s got to be.”

  Brooke gave her a long look.

  “What?” Mindy asked defensively.

  “That’s some serious relationship goals right there, Min.”

  “Stop.”

  “No, you stop. You should marry that man. Oh wait, you already did.”

  “Yeah.” Mindy found a smile. “I know he’s amazing. I do. I just can’t seem to . . .”

  “Find your happy?” Brooke asked, humor gone, and in its place was genuine concern.

  “Yeah,” she admitted. “I’m having a lot of trouble with that.”

  “I get that. More than you know. And I also know it might be hard to hear, but a therapist could really help. Or maybe even meds. There’s no shame in that, Min.”

  Mindy looked at her in surprise. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

  “I saw a therapist and took anxiety meds for two years after the helicopter crash.”

  “Oh, Brooke,” she murmured, her heart squeezing hard. “I wish—”

  “No, it’s okay. I needed to be alone. I needed to process. And I did. I mean, I’m still the same Brooke, which means I’m often restless, and the OCD thing still flares up sometimes . . .”

  Mindy bit her lower lip.

  “Or a lot,” Brooke said with a rueful smile. “But therapy helped me with the anxiety and also with finding some happy. I’m just saying, it’s an option.”

  “I know. But I think I’m okay,” Mindy said. “Really.”

  “Okay, good. Because it seems to me Linc’s trying really hard, and I don’t know much, but I do know it’ll take both of you to make it happen.”

  “I know,” Mindy said softly. “And we’re working on it.” And she’d work harder. If Brooke could come back from what she’d faced, Mindy could find her way back, too.

  A few minutes later, they were at the gorgeous Capriotti winery. She’d just found Linc and the kids when she discovered a bigger problem than all her other ones: The theme of the party was clowns.

  “Uh-oh,” Brooke said.

  “What?” Linc asked.

  “Your wife’s terrified of clowns.”

  It was true. Mindy had frozen to the spot. She’d been about to thank Linc for the McDonald’s, but she couldn’t breathe. There were clown balloons. Clown posters. Clown games . . .

  Brooke turned to Linc. “Remember in high school when they hired a clown troupe for an assembly and she threw up on the lead clown’s big red shoes?” She looked at Mindy. “You going to survive?”

  “Who, me? Of course.” Mindy forced an easy shrug, but she was thinking meds would be great right about now. She managed a smile at Linc, who smiled back and then got pulled away by a parent they knew from school. She waited a beat, then turned to Brooke and hissed, “I’m totally not going to survive.”

  “Yes, you are,” Brooke whispered back. “We’re the Lemon sisters. We survive everything and keep on ticking. There are tons of people here. Surely we can find someone to gossip about and take your mind off the silly decorations. And hey, bonus, I only see one actual clown.”

  Carefully averting her gaze from said clown, Mindy eyed the crowd. “Everyone’s skinny and beautiful.”

  “Yeah, so feel sorry for them because of all the Taco Tuesdays they’ve clearly missed.”

  Mindy choked out a half laugh, half sob. “God, I love you.”

  “Hey, look,” Brooke said. “Brit’s here.” She pointed to their nanny, standing by an ice cream bar with a beautiful young woman about her age.

  “Brit’s a Capriotti,” Mindy said, locking her gaze on their nanny and her girlfriend instead of the clown. They were holding hands and smiling, and when they both reached to lick their shared ice cream at the same time, they laughed and kissed. Mindy sighed in envy. Tonight. Tonight she’d get Linc back where he belonged, she vowed. In her damn arms.

  “Inappropriate,” a nearby mom said disapprovingly, eyes locked on Brittney and her girlfriend.

  Mindy looked over at her in surprise. “What?”

  “It’s entirely inappropriate.”

  “Really?” Mindy asked. “Which part—the genuine young love, or that they’re sharing what looks to be mint chocolate chip ice cream? Because let’s be honest, mint in ice cream is entirely inappropriate. And disgusting.”

  “Bite your tongue, Min,” Brooke said. “Mint ice cream is the bomb.”

  “My daughter’s four,” the woman said. “I’m not prepared to explain a gay couple to her.”

  “Sure.” Mindy nodded. “Because you’d rather tell her about an immortal fat guy in a red suit who lives at the North Pole and travels around the world one night a year in a sleigh driven by flying reindeer than tell her about two people in love. Makes a lot of sense.”

  The woman rolled her eyes and walked off.

  “Nicely done, Lemon,” Brooke said, but Mindy let out a breath and shook her head.

  “That was the room mother from Millie’s class. I need wine, stat.”

  “On it,” Brooke said, and walked off in search of wine.

  The clown walked by Mindy and then stopped and did a double take. And then pantomimed something that Mindy didn’t quite get because her heart was suddenly pounding in her ears. “Go on,” she said, and gave a “shoo” gesture. “Nothing to see here.”

  The clown gave her a slow smile, a creepy-ass smile, and came a little closer.

  “No, seriously. Back off.”

  The clown took another step toward her.

  “Listen,” Mindy said. “Don’t mess with me, okay? Take one more step and you’ll be sorry.”

  So of course the clown took one more step, just as Brooke reappeared with Mindy’s wine. “Hey, jackass,” Brooke said, stepping in front of Mindy, blocking her from the clown. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

  The clown flipped Brooke off and then made an even cruder gesture toward Mindy.

  “Are you kidding me?” Brooke asked, handing Mindy her wine. “You think just because you’re behind the questionable protection of a stupid clown suit that you can just blindly come on to a woman? Stop being a big fat bag of dicks and back up out of our space.”

  The clown took a step into Brooke and chest-bumped her.

  And Brooke punched him in his big red nose.

  The clown fell backward on his ass, his nose fell off, and . . .

  It was a woman, Mindy realized in shock. It was Michelle Avery, her high school mortal enemy. Michelle had been more popular than Mindy, prettier than her and smarter than her. And yet Michelle had made it her personal mission to make Mindy’s life at school a personal hell. She’d stolen Mindy’s iPod, she’d told teachers that Mindy had cheated off her, she’d tried to steal Linc on numerous occasions, and during their junior year, when Mindy and Linc had been on a break from each other, Michelle had kissed him.

  Mindy hated her.

  “You bitch!” Michelle screeched, and flew at Brooke, taking her by surprise.

  They both hit the dirt, hard, Brooke on the bottom, appearing momentarily stunned by the clown sitting on her chest. “Get your fat ass off me!”

  “Fat? How dare you!” Michelle screamed, and then they were rolling, vying for top position. Michelle pulled Brooke’s hair and swung a punch that only grazed Brooke’s jaw because Brooke managed to get an elbow in Michelle’s gut. But then Michelle pulled back her fist