Free The Guest List by Fern Michaels

the box back to the shelf in her closet.
    Did she want to go to Mallory’s graduation? Did she want to see her sister? No and no. Should she turn the other cheek, be more forgiving? To what end? Donovan and Carol would probably consider it a personal betrayal.
    Abby reached for her pen and tore a sheet of paper from her marble notebook. She scribbled furiously.
Dear Mallory,
    I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to come to your graduation. As it is, I don’t know where I’m going to get the time to do all that I have to do before I leave for college. I wish you would change your mind about Georgia Tech. Education is critical these days. Whatever you decide to do I know you will be successful. I wish you well.
    I have some exciting news! I just sold a short story to American Teenager magazine. I might turn out to be a writer after all!
    One other thing, Mallory. I don’t know too much about financial matters, but it would seem to me that you should invest your inheritance. Please don’t fritter it away on a good time. I’m not jealous, Mallory. Mama wanted you to have her insurance money, and that’s okay with me. I just urge you to spend it wisely.
    Enjoy your graduation.
    Abby
    Abby addressed the envelope and slid it to the side of her desk. A wide grin split her features when she reopened the second letter she’d received that day. She rolled her eyes asshe hugged her chest. “This is so wonderful! So very wonderful! Thank You, God! Thank You very much.”
    “I can’t believe that you’re actually going off to college,” Carol said tearfully as she sat down between the boxes she’d been helping Abby pack. “I’m going to miss you so much, honey. I swore I wasn’t going to cry and what am I doing? I just want someone to tell me where these last three months went.”
    “You’re crying,” Abby said, leaning over and wrapping her arms around Carol. “Christmas isn’t that far off. I’ll be home then for three whole weeks. By the time I’m ready to leave, you’ll be sick of me because I’ll be a know-it-all with all this higher education that’s going to be jammed down my throat. I’ll call and write. I promise.”
    Carol mindlessly folded Abby’s sweaters. “You’d better, young lady. Are you still up for your first surgery? You aren’t going to change your mind, are you?”
    “No, I am not going to change my mind. I’m going to go through with it, but I think we both know it isn’t going to work. I read all the latest articles on port-wine stains, and I can tell you, mine is too large and too deep.” She touched the side of her face. “God gave me this birthmark for a reason, and I don’t think He’s going to allow some doctor to take it away. I’ll do it this time on the off chance that it might help, but I can’t promise any future surgeries.”
    “I understand, and I don’t blame you one bit. Donovan has himself convinced it’s going to work.”
    “I know. I hope he won’t be too disappointed when it doesn’t. I saw the date circled on the calendar. It’s scheduled for the day after I get home.” Abby took the stack of sweaters from Carol, put them in the box, and taped it shut. “I think that’s the last of it.”
    Carol pulled her list from her pocket. “Sheets, pillows, blankets,down comforter, towels, toiletries, winter clothes, fancy clothes, writing materials, mittens, mufflers, shearling jacket, your little television, radio, tape recorder, computer, printer, pencils, family pictures. Oh, my God, where’s Bailey?”
    “In my carry bag. He goes with me in case they lose my luggage. Do you think I’m silly for taking him, Aunt Carol?”
    “No, of course not,” Carol said, smiling. “He’s been your best friend for as long as I can remember. He’s been washed, stuffed, and sewn so many times I’ve lost count. I wish he could talk.”
    Abby’s face sobered. “No, you don’t, Aunt Carol. Believe me, you don’t.”
    “C’mon, ladies, let’s shake it, or