Henry's Sisters. Cathy Lamb
^OUTSTANDING PRAISE FOR CATHY LAMB AND HER NOVELS
THE LANGUAGE OF SISTERS
“Lamb once again draws readers into the joys and sorrows of family life. With fascinating, memorable characters and a deeply engaging plot, her latest is a captivating look at the different lives shared by one family and the power of their love to bring them through life’s best and darkest hours.”
—Booklist
THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF MY LIFE
“The blending of three or more generations and the secrets they harbor keeps this story moving briskly, culminating in a satisfying ending that makes us believe that despite heartache and angst, there can be such a thing as happily ever after.”
—New York Journal of Books
SUCH A PRETTY FACE
“Stevie’s a winning heroine.”
—Publishers Weekly
HENRY’S SISTERS
An Indie Next List Notable Book
“A story of strength and reconciliation and change.”
—The Sunday Oregonian
THE LAST TIME I WAS ME
“Charming.”
—Publishers Weekly
JULIA’S CHOCOLATES
“Julia's Chocolates is wise, tender, and very funny. In Julia Bennett, Cathy Lamb has created a deeply wonderful character, brave and true. I loved this beguiling novel about love, friendship and the enchantment of really good chocolate.”
—Luanne Rice, New York Times bestselling author
Books by Cathy Lamb
JULIA’S CHOCOLATES
THE LAST TIME I WAS ME
HENRY’S SISTERS
SUCH A PRETTY FACE
THE FIRST DAY OF THE REST OF MY LIFE
A DIFFERENT KIND OF NORMAL
IF YOU COULD SEE WHAT I SEE
WHAT I REMEMBER MOST
MY VERY BEST FRIEND
THE LANGUAGE OF SISTERS
NO PLACE I’D RATHER BE
THE MAN SHE MARRIED
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
Henry’s Sisters
CATHY LAMB
KENSINGTON BOOKS
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2009 by Cathy Lamb
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, and educational or institutional use.
Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4967-1572-2
ISBN-10: 1-4967-1572-1
First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: August 2009
eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-4480-2
eISBN-10: 0-7582-4480-0
20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9
Printed in the United States of America
To JayRae, RaeMac, and The “T” Man
with love
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
A Reading Group Guide
Discussion Questions
1
I would have to light my bra on fire.
And my thong.
It is unfortunate that I feel compelled to do this, because I am particular about my bras and underwear. I spent most of my childhood in near poverty, wearing scraggly underwear and fraying bras held together with safety pins or paper clips, so now I insist on wearing only the truly elegant stuff.
“Burn, bra, burn,” I whispered, as the golden lights of morning illuminated me to myself. “Burn, thong, burn.”
I studied the man sprawled next to me under my white sheets and white comforter, amidst my white pillows. He was muscled, tanned, had a thick head of longish black hair, and needed a shave.
He had been quite kind.
I would use the lighter with the red handle!
I envisioned the flame crawling its way over each cup like a fire-serpent, crinkling my thong and turning the crotch black and crusty.
Lovely.
I stretched, pushed my skinny brown braids out of my face, fumbled under the bed, and found my bottle of Kahlúa.
I swigged a few swallows as rain splattered on the windows,