Just Like That (The Kings)

On the door of Bluebird Books, a small sign read Closed for the Bluebirds.

A huge grin pinched my cheeks. There were few things I loved more than a secret society of strong, powerful women. With my shoulders back and a confident smile, I pulled open the glass door and stepped inside. I was greeted with the warm scent of old books. Against the window there was a plush bench, perfect for reading on a rainy day. A few small tables with chairs were dotted around, inviting book lovers to enjoy the comfort and camaraderie of a quaint little bookshop.

Once inside, wooden displays revealed rows and rows of new and used books. I could hear the faint murmurs of conversation coming from the back and followed the glowing lamplight. Near the cash register, a wall of framed photos caught my eye. Some were black-and-white, while others were more modern. All were of women, and I recognized Sylvie and Lark among them. One older photograph drew my attention. The woman in it could have been Sylvie’s twin sister, had the picture not clearly been taken several years ago. The woman wore red lipstick and a sly smile. Her light-brown eyes were soft and kind, and she had the most gorgeous blond hair.

It had to be Maryann King.

Surrounded by six kids, I wondered which was JP. I leaned in, studying the picture. On one knee, she balanced a little girl who couldn’t have been more than two or three. On the other was a boy with dark hair, seafoam eyes, and a serious expression. My fingertip reached to brush across his sweet, serious brow.

JP.

Sadness rolled over me for the little boy he had been.

“Hazel. I’m glad you could make it!” I turned at Sylvie’s voice and smiled. “She was ethereal, right?”

I hummed in agreement. “So are you—you’re identical.”

Sylvie tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Thank you.” She gestured toward herself. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

I followed Sylvie and found the source of the chatter I’d heard earlier. At the back of the store, mismatched chairs, settees, and benches were placed in cozy arrangements. Women of varying ages were engaged in conversations, many with wine or other drinks in their hands.

Quiet laughter and conversation flowed into each other as I followed Sylvie into the gentle fray. Across the room, I saw Bug and waved. She returned my greeting with a nod and polite smile.

When we reached a semicircle of women, I stopped at Sylvie’s side. Most I had already met at the barbecue, and I was greeted with friendly waves and smiles.

“Ladies, most of you have already met Hazel. For those that haven’t, she’s JP’s, well . . .” She looked at me, seemingly unsure of what to say next. “She’s Teddy’s aunt and guardian.”

I moved my hand in a rainbow. “Hi.”

Annie, whom I’d briefly met at the barbecue, scooted to the side and patted the bench next to her. “Welcome!”

Kate walked over with two plastic champagne flutes. She moved one toward me. “Bubbles?”

I accepted the cup. “Are we celebrating?”

Lark laughed and propped her feet on an ottoman. “We’re always celebrating at the Bluebirds.”

JP’s little sister MJ took a sip of her own drink. “We’ve had heavy times lately. Tonight we’re all glad there’s no drama and we can just relax with friends.”

A woman across from her snorted. “No drama? Whip’s been in a tailspin since someone hemmed his work pants three inches shorter.” She gestured toward Annie with her cup. “Every. Single. Pair.”

Annie laughed and covered her mouth. “I cannot get over how much our men act like children. First they hate each other, then they become bros or something, and now they’re back to pinching each other’s butts or whatever it is they do.”

“They’re children. All of them,” Kate chimed in with a chuckle.

“It took Lee weeks of teaching himself how to sew.” Her brow furrowed as she imitated Lee’s voice. “If you’re going to do it, better do it right.”

Lark sighed and gestured toward me. “At least you don’t have to worry about JP getting caught up in all of it. Somehow, even though it’s the men being ridiculous, sometimes we get tangled in it too.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Veda, Royal’s girlfriend, popped a grape into her mouth and crossed her long legs. “My first day I got a face full of milk and eggs, thank you very much.”

The women laughed and continued chatting as I thought about JP and him asking about Teddy’s random facts book. He might not be at the forefront of the pranks, but he wasn’t above pulling some strings behind the scenes.

I smiled to myself and let the conversation roll over me, participating when I could, but mostly sitting back and observing the happy camaraderie of the women of Outtatowner. Young or old, they all laughed and shared stories, and the night went on.

He may have called it a coven to tease me, but he wasn’t wrong.

The Bluebirds were a sisterhood. A group of women bonded by love and friendship.

Unexpected emotion stung the bridge of my nose, and I poked at a tear that had formed at the corner of my eye.

Sylvie’s hand rested on my back. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed hard. “Just missing my sister a little bit.” I gave her a sad, watery smile and was comforted by her kind expression.

“Could you tell me about her?” she asked.

I shifted, scooting so my knees could face her. “Sure. She was older than me. Liked to boss me around . . . typical big-sister stuff, I guess. Olive was funny—always the life of the party. She had this knack for getting people out of their shells. Everyone loved her.”

Sylvie sighed. “Oh, sometimes I envy people like that—people who just have this glow about them, and light up a room in the best ways.”

I nodded. “Exactly. There was a spark, you know?” When my voice wobbled, I cleared my throat. “When she found out she was pregnant, she wasn’t scared. She just knew it would all be okay. Even after she told him and he⁠—”

I chewed the inside of my lip, willing the swell of emotions not to overtake me in a room full of new friends.

“Oh, honey.” Sylvie folded over me as I clamped my mouth shut.

I’d almost said it out loud and told her what he’d done—what he still wouldn’t admit actually happened between the two of them.

Guilt, slick and slimy, crept in at the edges of my awareness. I had been fighting my attraction to JP since I met him.

What kind of person did that make me?

What kind of sister?

I exhaled and sat back, swiping underneath my eyes and hoping my mascara wasn’t running all over the place.

“That’s it,” Annie said as she began texting something on her phone. “This calls for more alcohol.”

“Oh.” I laughed a watery chuckle. “I really can’t. I borrowed JP’s car and drove here.”

Annie waggled her phone with a grin. “Already taken care of. While the King men are busy having guys’ night with Teddy, the Sullivans just became our designated drivers.”

“In that case . . .” Veda held a fresh bottle of champagne and expertly popped the cork with a laugh.

Playful whoops and hollers rang out as Veda poured the champagne into our plastic cups.

Sylvie held up her drink and winked at me. “To the Bluebirds, new and old.”

Together we toasted and sipped, the champagne tickling my nose as I sent up a silent toast of my own.

To the Bluebirds . . . Olive sure would have loved you.