I had half an hour, no more than that, to get my life in order so my sisters would never suspect how unprepared I was for this morning.

I kicked the back door shut, dumping the plastic grocery bags onto the kitchen counter, easing the ache in my arms. If Johanna were hosting this morning, she'd have something homemade baking in her oven, the appealing aroma filling her immaculate kitchen.

Well, one thing was for certain — I was not Johanna.

Winston's frantic barks sounded from upstairs. Seconds later, he was scampering around my feet, his sudden appearance meaning I'd forgotten to lock him in his kennel. Again.

"Bad dog." A halfhearted reprimand. "You're not supposed to be down here."

I pulled items from the plastic bags. Please don't let me have forgotten anything during my mad dash through the grocery store.

Cream for Johanna's and my coffee — although she was going to have to make do with my Keurig coffeemaker, not French press.

A small box of sugar so Payton could enjoy her coffee with the preferred three heaping spoonfuls per cup.

A premade fruit salad.

Blueberry muffins.

Keurig pods.

Nothing fancy. But at least I wouldn't look like a complete failure.

I suppose to a casual observer, Johanna, Payton, and I — the three remaining Thatcher sisters — appeared successful. And yet, while we might claim certain professional and romantic achievements, we still struggled to find our way as sisters.

At times Pepper's words — the ones Payton had shared with Johanna and me several months ago — seemed more of a taunt than an encouragement.

"Sometimes you just have to forget all the other stuff and remember we're sisters."

Shouldn't a role you acquired at birth be simple? Something you learned to do, along with walking and talking and navigating adolescence?

But then Pepper's death at sixteen splintered our already-precarious bonds.

I selected three mugs from a kitchen cupboard. This was no time to try to unravel the complicated dynamics between me, Johanna, and Payton — not when they'd be here any minute. And not with so much riding on this morning.

It's funny how much hope people put into a cup of coffee.

Social media — Facebook and Instagram and Twitter and Pinterest and even millions of people's text messages around the world — overflow daily with memes and GIFs lauding the miracle qualities of coffee.

Coffee is the gasoline of life.

All I need is coffee and mascara.

Behind every successful person is a substantial amount of coffee.

I drink coffee for your protection.

Drink coffee and do good.

And now ... now coffee would be the glue that bonded the three of us together.

Coffee and a book, if Payton's latest "we should do this!" idea succeeded.

Despite our determination to try to be better sisters — to overcome the damage to our relationships caused by Pepper's death ... and secrets ... and not knowing how to even relax with one another — it was all too easy to succumb to a lifetime of bad habits.

Of course, I knew my given position in the Thatcher sisters, volunteering to have our first Saturday morning book club meeting at my house. There were times I doubted that I'd ever get my "Is everybody happy?" theme song out of my head.

It didn't matter that I had a fulltime job. That I battled unrelenting fatigue. That Geoff and I were starting renovations on our house next week. I laughed and brushed off their multiple "We can do this, Jillian," offers with lighthearted responses of "I'm good. Really. This isn't a problem at all."

And then I'd resorted to a last-minute trip to the grocery store for premade options for this morning's breakfast.

"A girl has to do what a girl has to do" was fast becoming my mantra. Only I was doing less and less and hoping to get by.

Winston scratched at the back door leading from the kitchen to the yard, distracting me from my musings on the power of caffeine mixed with a heavy dose of self-doubt.

I bent down and ruffled his white ears before opening the door. "Sorry to leave you sitting there."

He ran off along the chain-link fence, barking at a squirrel or a bird. No, wait. That was our next-door neighbor, Gianna, out with her toddler.

"Good morning. Sorry about the barking." I stepped outside, snapping my fingers. "Hush, Winston!"

"It doesn't ever bother us." Her daughter knelt, reaching through the fence. "Oh, don't do that, Avery!"

I grabbed Winston's collar, tugging him back beside me. "He won't bite, but he is a nonstop licker."

"We've talked about getting a dog, but right now my hands are full trying to keep up with a two-year-old."

"I can imagine. But she's a cute handful." I checked my watch. Almost nine o'clock. Johanna and Payton would be here anytime now. "I'm sorry. I need to go. My sisters are coming over this morning."

"How fun. I wish I had a sister." Gianna took Avery's hand, helping her stand and brushing off the knees of her jeans. "And I need to try and tire this one out so she'll take a nap for me later."

"Good luck with that."

She tossed a wave over her shoulder. "See you later. Come on, Avery."

I released Winston. "Gianna —"

"Yes?"

"I did mention Geoff and I are renovating our kitchen, right?"

My neighbor kept a firm grip on her daughter's hand, despite Avery's attempts to squirm loose. "I noticed the huge dumpster in your driveway — a pretty big clue — and you also said you were thinking about it earlier this summer."

"I guess that thing is hard to miss." Winston sniffed around my feet. "I just wanted to warn you there'll be workmen around during the day, but most of the noise will be inside the house. A friend is acting as our project manager, and he knows all the workers."

"Great. Thanks for letting me know."

A knock at the front door as I entered the house signaled the arrival of one sister — most likely Johanna, who was always early.

She greeted me with a quick hug, setting her leather purse and her book on the small oak table Geoff and I kept by the front door. At least she'd brought her copy of the book we'd chosen. The question was, had she read it?

"Good to see you, Joey. How are you?"

"Tired." Johanna slipped off her leather sandals, looking trim in black capris and a red flowing top with cutout shoulders. "Between my work and Beckett's schedule at the Air Force Academy, life's crazy."

"Still, it must be nice having him in the same state at least."

"He might as well have kept his original assignment in Alabama. The superintendent at the academy keeps him so busy dealing with speeches and briefings and I don't know what else, we barely see each other."

"But you see him more than you did when he lived in another state, right?" And not seeing each other was the norm for Beckett and Johanna.

"I'm not keeping track of hours and minutes."

"One thing I know is you and Beckett can do this. You've managed a long-distance relationship for years, which means you can manage crazy hours with both of you living in the same town. I remember how excited you both were the weekend he drove into the Springs."

"You're right, Jilly. I'm still getting used to this new phase. It was so sudden."

"Why don't you go make a cup of coffee? I apologize that it's from a plastic pod and...