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That Friday afternoon, Tabitha sat with her sister at the kitchen table. Dion was nursing a cup of chamomile and Tabitha was obsessing over whether or not she should bother calling Wes.

"Do you have something against dating a cute guy?" Dion asked rubbing her hand in slow deliberate circles on her baby bump.

"No."

"Then what the hell is your problem?" Dion snapped rolling her eyes.

Tabitha sighed, but didn't answer. She just watched her sister sip her tea. Dion was beautiful. She had shoulder length black hair—relaxed straight, and milk chocolate brown skin and dark eyes. The two sisters looked completely different. They had different fathers; Dion had taken after their mother, but Tabitha looked like her father.





"Well?" Dion probed. "Are you going to answer me?"

Tabitha rolled her eyes. "I hate it when you get all high and mighty."

Dion laughed but didn't let the subject drop. "You said he's cute and he's obviously likes you if he asked you out while you were huffing, puffing, and sweating on the treadmill."

"I'll have you know I look totally hot when I work out."

"I'm sure, just like every other second of every day." Dion's usual good humor faltered for a second.

"What does that mean?" asked Tabitha.

"Nothing," Dion dropped her gaze to the table and worried her bottom lip.

"Gosh, Dee I know I pick on you about always being pregnant, but you won't be pregnant forever. You'll be back to normal in a matter of months."

Dion chuckled. "I know that. I don't have issues with being pregnant. I love it." She placed both hands on her belly and smiled.

"Then what's up?" Tabitha leaned and added her hand to Dion's bump.

"Maybe its just hormones," Dion muttered, "but ever since Posie's visit, I've been wondering if Rick is blind...and if he's not, what could he possibly see in me?"

"Wait a minute," said Tabitha, "are you saying that you're jealous of your sister-in-law?" Posie Solomon had been in town for a three day visit the week before. She'd attended Patrick's concert, but had left after curtain call to catch her flight back to London. Posie was a bonafied bomb-shell. She had long blonde hair, sparkling sapphire eyes, delicate bone structure, and a slight figure. Even her coloring was dainty, flawless pale skin with a natural pink blush along her cheeks. She looked a lot like her brother, Patrick had the same coloring, hair, and eyes, but he had a masculine build and a better sense of humor.

"Yes," Dion sighed, "You saw her! I mean, between her arched eyebrows, flawless complexion, and model-perfect body, all I can think is, 'he grew up with someone like her, he shouldn't be attracted to someone like me.'"

Tabitha's head jerked back as if she'd been slapped. "But you're beautiful."

Dion rolled her eyes.

"You know you're gorgeous," Tabitha pressed, "You look just like mom!"

Dion frowned and shook her head. "All mom ever talked about was 'Thank God Tabitha got her father's good hair, and height, and skin color. She never needs a relaxer, her eye color is so unique, and she's got that nice, light skin.'"

Tabitha felt herself shrink. She pulled her hand away from Dion's stomach and tucked it into the other one on her lap. She felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyes and cast her gaze down to her hands. "Growing up I wanted to look like you. You and mom could see yourselves in each other. I was the odd one out."

"You were special."

Tabitha felt sick. Dion Marie Solomon was not just her sister. She was her hero! Dion got married before she had kids...to a man that treated her like she was the only woman in the world. When Rick went out of town on business, he always brought her a gift...not because he'd been unfaithful, but because he'd missed her. He took the kids on an outing every weekend so Dion could have private time to herself after five days of being an amazing mother to their three beautiful children. Rick took her out to dinner and a grown-up movie once a month. He surprised her with concert tickets every now and then and Tabitha had caught him marveling at his wife while she wasn't looking. That wasn't exactly the caliber of men Tabitha and Dion had been exposed to growing up. Their mother dated men that used her for one thing or another, barely concealing the fact that they didn't give a shit about her or her kids.

What was most amazing about her brother-in-law was the fact that the impression he made was his true character. He didn't pretend to be a nice guy while his family cowered in fear when he got home from work. Dion never had to dress strategically to cover up bruises. Rick didn't drink himself numb. He didn't spend weekends on the golf course. He never went to a bar or club unless Dion was there with him.

The Solomon family took weekend trips and family vacations. The kids had everything they needed—dozens of pairs of shoes, more than one winter coat, their own rooms full of toys, a playroom in every house their parents owned. They took tennis, ballet, and karate lessons, and had the opportunity to participate in any team sport they wanted from soccer to lacrosse.

Dion had done well. She'd managed to break the pattern set by their mother and grandmother. She'd had a successful career, wonderful kids, an amazing husband, and she'd yet to have to compromise herself for any of her achievements.

Yet, in the middle of her spotless kitchen at the ornately carved table in the breakfast nook, Dion was saying that she fell short...in looks! That was ridiculous. She had black eyes that sparkled with excitement and humor, warm brown skin with red undertones, and thick black hair. Tabitha had always admired her older sister...mainly for the patience she'd shown her twenty years before; when she was a petulant child—the same patience she now showed her own children.

"Doesn't Rick tell you that you're beautiful?" asked Tabitha.

Dion smiled. "Yes, of course, but he has to tell me that. He's my husband."

"He tells you that because he means it, and because it's true. I'm your sister; I don't have to kiss you're ass. Trust me, you're beautiful! Your kids are friggin' gorgeous and they got half their genes from you!"

"They look like their dad," Dion said with a shrug.

Tabitha glared at her. "They look like the both of you. Rose has your ears, Patrick has your eyes, Lily has your chin, and they all have your nose...which I also have because it's just like mom's."

"Okay, okay," muttered Dion as she dabbed at tears that were beginning to slip down her cheeks.

"Mum! Mum! Mum!" a small voice sang over the baby monitor on the table between them.

"My niece is awake!" squealed Tabitha as she pushed away from the table.

"She's calling me," Dion teased.

"That's just because she doesn't know that her Auntie is here!"

"Fine," said Dion waving a hand dismissively, "you climb those stairs and get her."

When Tabitha got back in the kitchen, Lily was tucked against her chest, still a bit groggy from her nap. Tabitha reclaimed her seat and began rubbing Lily's back so she could wake up slowly.

"So, when are you leaving?" she asked when Dion settled back at the table armed wit a sippy-cup full of apple juice.

Dion set the cup on the table within Lily's reach.

"Five weeks, just before I'm too pregnant to fly."

"Which house?" The question made sense considering they had a flat in London and a townhouse in Bath.

"The house outside Birmingham," Dion answered.

"Ah, the biggest one."

"I'll need the space," Dion said indicating her protruding belly.

"This time I'm going to fly over to witness the birth of my niece or nephew. It would be nice if I could just drive to the hospital instead." Tabitha gave a long, drawn out sigh.

"I want my kids to have dual citizenship."

Tabitha looked down at Lily who returned her gaze for a few seconds before reaching for the cup of juice.

"Funny," said Tabitha, "she doesn't look like a foreigner."

"Don't be an ass," Dion said with a chuckle. "Tell me about this guy already."

Tabitha groaned. "I thought we were done with that topic of discussion."

"Since when do I let a subject drop when I haven't gotten the answers I'm seeking?"

"Never."

"Damn right," Dion said with a nod.

"Okay, well, you already know he's cute. He seems pretty cool; he's got some interesting tattoos."

"Oh, hell, Tabitha, is this another one of those wild party boys to which you love to attach yourself?"

"I wouldn't know," Tabitha said.

"You can't keep dating these worthless, tattooed, chain-smoking, half-dead creeps. When are you going to get serious about settling down and starting a family?"

Tabitha rolled her eyes. "First of all, who says I even want to have kids?"

Dion quirked an eyebrow and glanced down at her youngest daughter, safe and happy in her sister's arms.

"Second," Tabitha continued. "Wes is not a party boy. He works in a music store for Pete's sake. He's probably nice, and reliable. Hell, he probably has health insurance!"

"So call him, already," snapped Dion. "Now give me my daughter unless you want to change her diaper."

Tabitha wrinkled her nose. "You can have her!"