The Sullivan Sisters

The Road Ahead

Exquisite—that was the only word, Quinn decided, that could remotely describe Agatha Christie's captivating mystery novel. It had taken months, but she had finally gotten around to it, cracking open Ross' gift and giving it an ardent go.

Quinn would be lying if she said that it hadn't been a rather trying experience, one that consisted of reading, rereading and...rereading again the same sentences over and over. Sentences that she pleaded with for understanding. All the while, spewing a few choice, ungodly words under her breath.

Still, if nothing more, through every turn of a page, the book proved its worth. She found herself curled up on the guest bedroom's nook, welcoming the sunshine that flooded in through the window and bathed her in its glorious light. A fading sweatshirt—belonging to her sister—hung from her body, and drowned her in the most satisfactory way with its excessive material.

The serene location, illumination from the sun, and comfort from the clothing all reacquainted her with feelings that stemmed from before the night that injured her brain, painted her body with ghastly lacerations, and disrobed her of her dignity far more times than she could count. So, she thoroughly appreciated the normalcy the reading nook provided.

The only thing that could make the peaceful atmosphere better was a cup of coffee. At the thought alone, Quinn could practically feel the delectable caffeine washing over her taste buds.

The urge growing too strong to fight, Quinn bookmarked her page and moved with reluctance, leaving her state of luxury to complete the environment by acquiring a cup of her favorite, hot beverage.

A curious smile etched its way onto the ginger's lips because, really, she and her sister were riding the same mental wavelength.

Paloma extended her hand, offering Quinn coffee encased by a styrofoam cup, holding the logo of a local bakery that was deemed the 'treat shop' by all members of the Sullivan household whenever they had an especially sweet tooth. Which, judging by the smell of freshly baked apple pastries from the kitchen, it was definitely one of those days.

Handing off the cup, Paloma smirked. "Just letting you know, by accepting this, you're agreeing to come with me."

Not skipping a beat, Quinn sampled the coffee and, after the way her taste buds shivered with pleasure, she didn't exactly care what she was agreeing to.

"Where?" she got out between sips.

Paloma made her eyebrows perform a dance number. "Gonna hit up a few car dealerships today. I need someone to help me find the vehicle that I'll be pouring my paycheck into for the next few years. Figured it could be you."

"And you thought you needed a bribe for that?"

Quinn patted her thigh, summoning Siberia to follow them out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Ava sat at the island bar, perched over her laptop as she typed feverishly.

"As you can see," Paloma commenced with a petite pout, "Ava refuses to play hooky."

Momentarily giving her fingers a rest, Ava looked at the sisters with counterfeit enthusiasm. "Yeah, well, it's either play hooky or stay employed."

"Working on the weekend?" the teenager asked.

Exhaling, the other redhead nodded. "Unfortunately. Things have taken off a lot more in my department, which is great," she admitted with the brief wave of her hands, "but with more popularity comes more work. Like...a shit ton of work. And who does it fall on if not me?"

Ava abandoned her exaggerated smile and melted into the simple yet amorous kiss that her girlfriend engaged her in.

Paloma modestly tossed her keys up into the air then started for the exit once gravity drew them back down into the palm of her hand. "Alright, well, we'll try to have fun without you."