Page 68 of Big & Lily

She giggles, and I roll my eyes. “No thank you. I think we’ve had enough running off with strange guys on this trip.” I laugh, but suddenly Lily is back on her heels.

“Okay, chill, Emily Post.”

“You said yourself it was a mistake—”

“Having a consensual evening between two adults isn’t exactly a federal offense.”

“Hmm, then why were you being so squirrely the next day? Why did you want me to ‘break up with him’ for you? Huh? Not very adultlike, if you ask me.”

I know we’re wet and tired. I know we missed the opportunity my sister was so excited about, and that we risked being labeled troublemakers and possibly even our lives for nothing. But I’m getting a little tired of Lily using her mood to change her tune when it suits her. “Forget it. Let’s just find our way back. At this point, we can sneak back in and pretend none of it even happened. None of it.”

“Easy for you to just brush it off. Classic you.”

“For Pete’s sake, Lily. What the f is your problem right now?”

“It’s just I don’t like you judging me. I expect it from everyone else, but you of all people.”

“No one is judging you. But if they did, can you blame them?”

“Must be nice to never make a mistake in your whole easy life.” Lily is off, stomping down the trail.

“Okay, so youdoadmit it was a mistake.”

She stops and turns to face me. Tears are streaming down her face. “Shut up, Big. Just shut up, you who never does anything wrong, plays everything by the book, you with your white picket fence and minivan in the driveway. Your two perfect kids and doting husband.”

What just happened? Moments ago, she was laughing about the stinky hiker. In all the years of Lily, she’s said some inconsiderate things to me. Mostly misdirected emotions being taken out on the person closest to her. Her sister. But she has never said anything against my children. The niece and nephew she helped raise. Calling them “perfect kids” with that disdain in her voice—she would never.

“Lily, this is not you talking. Where did this come from?”

She starts to walk backward down the trail. Putting one foot behind the other as she cries. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why do you keep saying that? What is it you don’t want to talk about? Lily, stop. Turn around and watch where—”

Of course, she doesn’t listen to me. She takes quicker steps back. “I just wanted to protect you,” she cries.

“Protectme?Lily, stop. Who fed you this perfect-life shit?”

She is too close to edge. The ravine isrightthere, and she is not paying attention to her surroundings. I stride over to her and grab her by her jacket and yank her toward me.

“Get off,” she yells as she twists herself out of my grip.

“Stop! You are acting crazy.”

I approach my sister again, slower this time. When I reach her, I try to take Lily’s shaking hands, but she whips them out of my mine, pulls her arms back, and shoves me. Hard. “Stop handling me,” she shouts as I stumble back, lose my footing, and land in the mud.

The fall sends a shooting pain across my lower back and knocks the wind out of me. When I catch my breath, I’m furious. “Are you kidding me right now? Do you see where I am because ofyou? Because I’ve been trying to helpyou? In the middle of frigging nowhere, risking my life. I came here to help you, while you do everything you can to make things worse. And what do I get for my trouble?”

“Did you ever think I don’t want your help? I don’t need another mother. I already have one, and at least she doesn’t smother me.”

Now I’m seeing red. “You begged me to come.” I clamber to my feet and move at her again. I ball up my fists.

“I wasn’t only talking about this trip,” she says. She straight-arms me as I reach her, and I start to stumble again, but this time I’m ready and catch myself after the first step.

“You are so ungrateful,” I growl, and that’s when I duck and weave past her outstretched arms and shove back.

First, there is the shock on her face. I have never pushed back. Then she starts to lose her balance. She’s at the edge of the trail. Behind her is the drop-off. I try to grab her, to stop her, but her arms are flailing, and all I get is handfuls of air. As she steps back to right herself, her heel hits a wet rock, her other foot slides on muddy leaves, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Her eyes widen, her mouth flies open, she loses her footing. And disappears.

Chapter Thirty-Four