“I didn't say anything stupid.”

“No, but you did a lot of stupid things. Your tongue was so deep in his mouth-”

“I think,” said their mother, “that Kathleen owes you both an apology.”

Kathleen shrugged. “Sorry,” she said. “I was drunk. Sometimes I do stupid things when I’m drunk.”

“And sometimes even when she's not,” Lucy whispered to Sari, who hushed her.

“Oh, come on,” Christa said. “At least try to sound like you mean it.”

“She's right,” their mother said. “Kathleen, your sisters have been nothing but good to you and you don't seem to appreciate it. Everything you have you have because of them, but they get nothing from you in return-”

“What are you talking about? I’ve been working for them since college.”

“Yes, you have,” said her mother. “And that steady income you get is something else you owe them.”

“If you don't like the way I do my job-”

Kelly snorted. “Come on, Kathleen. All you do is make a couple of phone calls now and then.”

“No, really,” Kathleen said, standing up straight and squaring her shoulders. “If you guys don't want me around, just say so. I mean, I thought I was doing you all a favor by helping out with the company and keeping an eye on things here, but if you think the favors are all on your side…” She looked from one member of her family to another. No one said anything. “Fine,” she said then. “Fine. I don't have to stay here. And I won't. I have other options.”

“No, you don't,” said Christa, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don't.”

“Yes, she does,” said Sari, swiveling the bar stool around to face Christa directly. “I’ve been begging her for ages to come stay with me and help me out with the rent.” She rotated back around. “What do you say, Kathleen? You ready to move in with me?”

“Are you kidding? Just give me ten minutes to pack my bags.” Kathleen came around the island.

“Don't be silly,” her mother said. “Come on, Kathleen, if you're doing this to prove something, it's not worth it. You know we don't actually want you to leave.”

“Yeah,” said Kelly. “You're making too big a deal out of this.”

“We don't want you to move out,” Christa said. “We just want you to not get trashed and say stupid things anymore.”

“Live free or die,” Kathleen said, brushing past her. “That's my motto.”

“I thought that was New Hampshire 's motto,” Lucy whispered to Sari.

“It is,” Sari whispered back. “But I’ll bet you anything they don't know that.”

The twins may have been the ones with a successful television and movie career, but Kathleen had her own flair for the dramatic. She flounced out of the house half an hour later, with two packed bags, a toss of her head, and a haughty, “You can reach me on my cell,” leaving Sari and Lucy to murmur awkward goodbyes and follow her outside.

“At least it got her dressed,” Sari said as they walked toward the car.

“If you call that dressed,” Lucy said with a disgusted nod at Kathleen, who was wearing a pair of old, torn sweatpants and a tank top with no bra. Lucy only left the house in sweats when she was on her way to the gym. And she always wore a bra.

She snagged the front seat of Sari's car while Kathleen was still stowing her bags in the trunk.

Once they were well on their way down the long narrow driveway that led out of the twins’ property, Sari said over her shoulder, “Hey, Kath, you know I was just bluffing about the apartment, right? I mean, you're welcome to spend a night or two but you can't actually move in permanently. I don't even have room for me in there.”

“That's okay,” Kathleen said. “I can sleep on the floor.”

“There isn't enough space on the floor for you. For me, maybe, but not you.” Sari was almost a foot shorter than Kathleen.

“Then I’ll take the bed and you can have the floor,” Kathleen said. “Problem solved.”

“Try again, Sari said.

“I’m kidding.” Kathleen was slouched low in the backseat, her knees sticking up at chin height. She hadn't put her seatbelt on. “I’m kidding. I won't stay long. I’m planning to get my own place-there was this guy at the party last night who was bragging that he knows someone really big in real estate. I’ll see if he can help me find a cheap apartment.”

“You remember that?” Lucy said. She had pulled her knitting back out of her bag and was working on it, right there in the car. “You can't remember what you did that pissed off your sisters but you remember that some random guy at the party had a friend in real estate?”

“I wasn't drunk yet when he told me that.”

“She'd only had twelve margaritas by then,” Sari said. “Some brain cells were still functioning. So do you have that guy's number?”

“The guy who knew the guy, yeah.”

“You should call him soon. Like today soon.”

“Do I detect a note of panic?” asked Lucy, eyebrows arched.

“Not panic,” Sari said. She looked at Kathleen in the rearview mirror. Their eyes met. Sari smiled. “Notyet.”

“We'll have fun,” Kathleen told Sari's reflection.

“I know we will. But call that guy soon, anyway, will you?”

“Soon as we get to your place.”

“Oh, I know what I wanted to tell you guys,” Sari said suddenly. “Remember that woman at the knitting store in Santa Monica -the young one with the incredibly long black hair who's always just sitting there knitting, no matter what time you go in there?”

“A knitting junkie,” Lucy said. “When good girls go just a little bit bad.”

“Do you remember how the last time we saw her I said I thought she was pregnant?”

“No,” Kathleen said.

“You don't? I said her breasts had grown since the last time we'd seen her and either she was pregnant or had had a boob job and you guys voted for boob job.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lucy said. “I remember.”

“I still don't,” Kathleen said. “But I’m slightly disturbed to know you go around staring at women's breasts, Sari.”

“It's all about the envy,” said Sari, who was built like a twelve-year-old girl. She was small and slight, with cropped thick hair and enormous blue eyes-the kind of woman who would never get past being called “cute” her entire life. “Anyway,” she said, “the point is that I went in there the other day and we started talking and she is actually pregnant.”

“How old is she?” Lucy said.

“Twenty-eight,” Sari said.

“Twenty-eight?” Kathleen said. “That's way too young to start having kids.”

“No, it's not,” Sari said. “The majority of women in this country have babies by the time they're twenty-eight. Just because we're incapable of growing up-”

“Hey, hey. Speak for yourself,” Lucy said.

“Yeah,” Kathleen said. “I left home today.”

“Leaving home for the first time at the age of twenty-seven isn't grown-up,” Lucy said with a quick hard tug at a strand of yarn for emphasis. “It's pathetic.”

“It's not my first time-I went to college for four years.”

“And then moved right back in with mommy afterward. Face it-you've only ever lived off your family.”

“I wasn't living off of them,” Kathleen said. “I worked for them the entire time. Nine to five and all that.”

“Getting paid to sit at home and polish your toenails. It's a hard-knock life, isn't it?”

“I didn't say it was hard.” Kathleen leaned forward, putting a hand on each of the two front seats. She was so tall that her head barely cleared the top of Sari's small Toyota. “You sure knitting in the car is safe, Luce? Sari could hit the brake, and a needle could go right in your eye and-poof-no more hotshot research for you.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” Lucy said.

“So who was the guy you met last night?” Sari said. She was stopped at another light, so she tilted the rearview mirror to look at Kathleen. “The one with the real estate connections?”