The Sullivan Sisters

Hell to Pay

Breakfast time was sacred. It was an opportunity for bonding, singing off-key to the classics—bearing effortless smiles all the way. The event was a family affair that called for elegant cutlery; anything less was inappropriate, rude, barbaric even, according to Ava.

Too often, the Sullivans raced out the front door, stale Fruit Loops and nearly-expired milk splashing out of their paper cups. It only took one instance of Ava witnessing their pathetic attempt at breakfast for the mahogany-haired woman to declare war on their shameful ways.

So, they gathered around the dining table, clinking their coffee mugs in a brief toast, in preparation for some fine dining.

"You've got your omelet-making skills down to a science, kid. Color me impressed."

Paloma shot Ava a pointed look. "Not as good as mine, though."

"No, baby, of course not," said Ava, leaning over just enough to engage Paloma in a fleeting kiss.

As the days snowballed into weeks, Ava's presence became an expectation, not a luxury. The consistency incited an unexpected sense of reassurance in Paloma. The pet names, the calculated kisses, the instances of intimacy—slowly but surely, it was all becoming commonplace for Paloma.

Sex was still off the table. They'd gotten so close a few times that even Paloma thought she might give in, but it never happened. As far as Paloma could tell, Ava's patience wasn't wearing thin. For that, she was grateful.

On the other side of the table, Quinn grimaced. "Get a room."

"What's the point?" asked Ava, grinning. "You'd just barge in anyway." That bought her an insincere eye roll.

Breakfast had become an hour-long affair, only now, Quinn found herself gathering her empty plate in anticipation for her departure just ten minutes in. She could barely rise from her chair when Paloma held out her hand to stop her.

"Where ya running off to?"

"Charlie should be here soon."

The brunette dropped her utensils in her plate with an obnoxious clank. "What's with you dipping out so early these days? School doesn't start for another hour."

Quinn signaled her departure with a mere shrug, so Paloma followed her into the kitchen, Ava trailing behind.

The girl tucked her plate into the dishwasher then threw her sister a glance. "We like to get there early so we can have a little time before classes start."

"Mhm." Paloma's suspicions were too palpable to hide, not that she tried. "Time to do things like..."

"It's way too early in the morning for your mind to be this dirty."

"This how it's gonna be from now on?" asked Paloma. "The two of you?"

"Looks like it." A mischievous grin etched its way onto Ava's lips. "Gotta admit, it's pretty adorable." She rustled Quinn's hair; the girl hastily evaded her touch seconds later.

Paloma laughed, then dealt a single nod. "Yeah, well, tell that kid to have you back in time for dinner. Ava's trying some vegan recipe and, if I have to suffer, so do you."

Ava didn't dignify that with a response, but Quinn did. "I won't be back until after dinner. A girl I know is having a get-together tonight. Charlie and I plan to swing by."

In an instant, Paloma looked just as austere as their late father—authoritarian glower and all.

"If that's okay..."

"A 'get together,' huh? One of the alcoholic variety, I take it?"

"Just a night of engaging, intellectual conversation. Care to join us?"