“You are evil, Martha,” she said, drawling her twin sister’s name out so that it sounded more like “Maawwtha.”

Aunt Martha gave a smug smile and arranged her cards. “Harper, baby, do you hear your Aunt May being ugly to me?”

“Don’t drag Harper into this,” Aunt Jewel said as she laid down another card. She was the eldest of The Aunts, and the other two tended to listen to her. “We never get to see her, and now the two of you are going to spoil her visit by fussin’.”

I hid a smile behind my glass. Actually, sitting in Aunt Jewel’s cozy, yellow kitchen, watching the three of them argue with each other, was one of my favorite things. They could get downright nasty over cards, but there was never any doubt that they were sisters who loved one another.

I wondered if I could ever think of the word “sisters” and not feel a steady ache in my chest.

I sat my tea on the counter behind me. “I’m fine,” I told them. “Also, Aunt May, if you pick up that four Aunt Martha discarded, you can get a run.”

Jewel and Martha groaned as, hooting, Aunt May scooped up the card. “You should come by more often, Miss Harper,” she said.

Aunt Jewel began gathering the cards back up, and Aunt Martha looked over at me. “Speaking of, what brought you by today, sweetie? Not that we’re not thrilled to see you, of course, or that we aren’t pleased as punch to have a hummingbird cake”— she nodded toward the heavy glass platter on the counter—“but you’re usually so busy.”

“Too busy,” Aunt May chimed in. “Girls today have so much going on. School, and sports, and dances, and committees . . . it’s too much!”

“Don’t say that,” Aunt Martha told her, lighting another cigarette. “Our Harper is responsible and has a good sense of community. What’s wrong with that? And least she’s not one of those Teen Moms.”

The other aunts clucked in sympathy. A few months back, Aunts Martha and May—they lived together—had gotten a satellite dish and discovered the joy/horror of reality TV.

“Or one of those crackheads, like on that show where they make people feel bad about taking drugs,” Aunt Jewel offered. “Did you see the episode with the girl who did something called huffing? With the cans of cleaning—”

I hated to interrupt, but once they got going on car crash TV, they might never stop. “I have been busy,” I broke in. “And that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to y’all about.”