The Cottage on Juniper Ridge. Sheila Roberts

her phone screen told her she didn’t have time to stand around trying to figure it out.

      Late. It seemed as if she was constantly running to something, constantly trying to catch up with her own life. But, like a dog chasing its tail, she never seemed to. She picked up her pace.

      “So you finally got here,” her older sister, Toni Carlyon, greeted her as Jen approached their table at the Pink Door in Seattle’s Post Alley.

      “I’m lucky I could get away at all.” Jen took in the antipasto platter sitting on the table. “Aw, you ordered my prosciutto.” She hugged Toni, then settled in her chair and snagged a slice of meat.

      “Of course,” Toni said. “I always watch out for you, baby sister.”

      Watching out for and bossing around were synonymous in her sister’s mind, but Jen let it slide. Bossiness was unavoidable when your sister was five years older than you. This lunch was a command performance, and Jen suspected she’d be getting a sisterly lecture along with the meal Toni had offered to buy her.

      She could feel her sister’s eyes on her as she gave the waitress her order.

      “You look like death on a stick,” Toni said once the waitress was gone. “Mom’s right. You are going too hard.”

      Jen opened her mouth to say, “I am not.” Instead, she said, “I hate my life,” and burst into tears.

      Toni set her glass of wine in front of Jen. “Drink this.”

      “I have to go back to work,” Jen protested.

      “Drink it, anyway.”

      Jen managed to stem the tears enough to take a sip of wine.

      “Jen-Jen, you’ve got to stop doing so much,” Toni scolded. “Start saying no.”

      “I can’t.”

      “Yes, you can. Think like that old Nike commercial and just do it.”

      Easy for Toni to say. Yes, she was busy with her husband and her children, but when it came to work she could set her own hours. Toni wrote for women’s magazines, focusing primarily on family issues. If she didn’t feel like working she could take a day off, go to the gym, maintain her size-six bod, touch up her blond highlights.

      Jen had given up on highlights. She hadn’t been to the gym in months and she wouldn’t be able to take a day off until...2043. “I can’t,” she wailed. Now diners at the other tables were staring at her. She gulped down some more wine.

      “You take on too much, Jen-Jen,” Toni said. “Tell your idiot supervisor to plan the rest of the office Christmas party without you.”

      Right. “You would never last in corporate America,” Jen retorted.

      “At the rate you’re going you’re not going to last, either,” Toni said. “You don’t have time for your friends anymore and you barely have time for your family. That’s not you.”

      Toni had a point. “I don’t know what to do,” Jen confessed. “Every time I look at my calendar I want to run away from my life.”

      “Have you finished the book I gave you yet?” Toni asked.

      “No. I keep falling asleep.” Jen shook her head. “Pathetic. I used to love to read.” Heck, she used to love to do all kinds of things. She used to love going out with the girls on the spur of the moment or catching a movie, walking around Green Lake with a friend on a sunny day. Or...breathing. She barely had time for that these days. “Sometimes I wish I could sell the condo and move to a small town somewhere and just start over. Maybe write a book.” She’d always wanted to try her hand at writing...something. These days it seemed as if everyone was writing a book so it couldn’t be that hard.

      “I’ve heard life is slower in a small town,” Toni said, “but I don’t believe it. These days everybody’s busy. But certain somebodies are busier than others. Too busy,” she added, raising an eyebrow at Jen.

      “If you think I want to be running around like a roadrunner on speed you’re crazy,” Jen informed her, “but I have to. I’ve got bills to pay.” Obviously, her friends didn’t get that.

      “That’s the American way,” Toni said with a frown. “I wish I could help you out but my car’s on its last legs and we found out yesterday that Jeffrey’s going to need braces. It’ll be a few months before our budget adjusts to the shock.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of taking money from you, anyway. But if we had a rich uncle I’d have no qualms taking some from him.” Jen sighed. “Working two jobs is getting old. You know, sometimes I wish I’d been born in a simpler time, when people weren’t so busy.”

      “You can’t go back. Sometimes I’d like to, though. I watched this old movie the other night about a family living during the Depression and I felt downright jealous.”

      “Of people living in the Depression?”

      “Not of the money thing. It was all that family togetherness that got to me.” Toni rolled her eyes. “Even when my family’s together, we’re not. Jeffrey’s off in his room playing games on his computer, Jordan’s always texting. Wayne’s on his laptop, doing work. I hate it. Oh, and there’s another expense. Jordan told me last night that she lost her cell phone.”

      There was a fate worse than death, if you asked Jen. She couldn’t imagine being without hers. “Part of me would just as soon not replace it.”

      Jen couldn’t help smiling. “Mom would agree with that.” Their mother had never been shy about expressing her opinion regarding kids and cell phones.

      “Yeah, yeah. We didn’t have cell phones when we were kids and we were fine. But it’s a different world now.” Toni reclaimed her wineglass and took a sip. “I’d never admit this to Mom, but sometimes I wonder if all our technology has really made our lives better.” She fiddled with the stem of her glass. “Sometimes I worry that...” She paused and bit her lip. “My family is drifting apart.”

      “Of course it’s not,” Jen said, and shied away from the image of a very bored Jordan trailing them through the gingerbread house exhibit a couple of weeks before, texting her friends at every opportunity. When Jordan was little she’d loved going out with the big girls. Now that she was thirteen, not so much. But, Jen reminded herself, she hadn’t been excited to hang out with the adults when she was that age, either.

      “Oh, well,” Toni said. “That’s enough downer talk. Let’s figure out what we’re getting Mom for Christmas.”

      Talking about Christmas plans should have lifted Jen’s spirits, but only served to sic her to-do list on her and make her edgy. She hurried through lunch, gave her sis a quick hug and then speed-walked back toward the Columbia Center building.

      When she got halfway there, she stopped in midstride. What was she doing? Why was she running like a gerbil on a wheel? She didn’t want to go back to work. She wasn’t going to go back to work.

      She whipped out her cell phone and called her supervisor. “Patty, I’ll be at home for the rest of the day.”

      “Are you okay?” Patty asked, concern in her voice.

      She was probably just concerned about whether Jen had found a caterer for the office party yet.

      “I’m sick. It must’ve been something I had at lunch,” Jen improvised. No lie, really. She’d had something at lunch that made her sick—a conversation about her life. She needed a break and she needed it right now.

      “Okay, well, feel better soon,” Patty said. “Let us know if you’re not going to make it in tomorrow.”

      The only way Jen was going to feel better was if she got a new life. She went home, flipped on her faux fireplace and settled under a blanket on the couch with the book her sister had given her, starting with page one. Again.

      When