Free Beachcombers by Nancy Thayer

keep an eye on her, right?"
    "I can't spy on her twenty-four hours a day."
    Tears welled in Lily's eyes. "I don't want Emma to be so sad."
    Abbie put the bowl down and crossed the room. She took her baby sister in her arms. "I don't want her to be so sad, either, honey. But sometimes life is just plain hard."
    "But Emma will be okay, won't she?"
    "Of course she will." Abbie kissed her sister's forehead and gave her a little shake. "Get to work. I'll make some coffee and take a cup up to Emma."
    Abbie tapped on Emma's bedroom door. No one answered, so she pushed it open and went in.
    When they were girls, their mother had decorated each room with painstaking detail. Abbie's was yellow, Emma's lavender, and Lily's peppermint pink. One wall of Emma's room was lined with shelves populated by dolls of all shapes and sizes. Abbie and Lily had both altered their rooms as they grew older, Abbie slapping up posters of other countries, Lily thumbtacking pictures of rock stars and actors. But Emma had never packed her dolls away.
    Emma was in bed, and Abbie knew she was awake, because Emma slept like a starfish, all limbs spread out, and now she was on her side, facing the wall, her covers pulled up to her ears.
    "I know you're awake. Here's some coffee." She put Emma's mug on the bedside table and sat down with her own at the end of the bed, leaning against the bedpost.
    Emma didn't move.
    Abbie said, "We saw Dad pick up that woman and drive off with her." She sipped her coffee. "I don't know why Lily's so freaked out. Well, she's obviously younger than Dad, and she's not from the island, but still. Why shouldn't Dad have a girlfriend?"
    Without turning to face Abbie, Emma muttered, "Lily's afraid she'll take Dad away from us."
    "Well, that's silly. We're all grown up. We should be starting our own families. Plus, you and I haven't even been living on the island."
    "But Lily has. Lily came right back the minute she graduated from college."
    "She says she wants to meet the right people and get a job in New York."
    "Yeah, she says that, but can you see Lily in New York? She--" Emma's mumbled words disappeared beneath the covers.
    Abbie nudged Emma's bum with her foot. "Turn over. Sit up. I can't even hear you."
    Emma didn't move. Abbie dug her foot into Emma's back.
    "Stop it!" Emma yelled.
    Abbie didn't stop.
    "God, you're irritating!" Emma turned over and sat up.
    "Now drink your coffee," Abbie ordered.
    "I don't want it."
    "Drink it anyway."
    "No, Abbie, I mean it. I can't drink coffee. Anything with caffeine makes me kind of freaky. Like I want to run down the hall and jump out the window."
    "Oh, Emma."
    Emma shrugged. "So I'm better without coffee. This way I just want to lie here and die."
    "I hate when you talk like that."
    "Then don't talk to me. Go away."
    Abbie studied her sister, trying to evaluate her health. Emma was thinner than she'd ever been, and everything about her was dull: skin, eyes, hair. "You look like Iceland in January."
    Emma snorted. "That's way too optimistic an image."
    "Really."
    "I feel like a piece of shark shit on the bottom of the ocean. I've been chewed up and shat out. I've got nothing left."
    "Oh, Emma, that's terrible." Abbie leaned forward to stroke her sister's arm. "Honey, it will get better. Remember how it was after Mom died? And it got better."
    "Not for Mom."
    "Oh, I don't know. Maybe for Mom."
    "It was better for Mom to be away from her three daughters, to be dead in the ground?"
    "We've talked about this, Emma. We don't know what's on the other side. Mom might be happy where she is, and watching us."
    "Oh, bullshit."
    Abbie didn't want to talk about their mother anymore. She could go into as deep a dark place as her sisters if she allowed herself. At least she'd prodded Emma from apathy to anger. She changed the subject. "I've got to get a job. After what Dad said last night, I want to contribute some money."
    "How long are you staying?" Emma asked.
    "I'm not sure. I might as well stay the