New York Times bestselling author Luanne Rice explores the complex emotional equations of love and loyalty that hold together three pairs of remarkable sisters, in an unforgettable story of loss, redemption, and forgiveness
The storm off Mackinac Island that engulfed Maura Shaw’s husband and elder daughter,Carrie, also swept away the illusion of her life as the perfect midwestern wife and mother. Now, after years away, Maura has returned to Rhode Island to teach English at the fabled Newport Academy and to seek a new beginning. Newport has never failed to infuse Maura with a sense of mystery and hope, but ever since the accident, her younger daughter, fourteen-year-old Beck, has retreated into the safe, predictable world of mathematics. Without Carrie, Beck has lost half of herself—the half that would have fit into the elite private school she and her brother, Travis, will attend. The half that made things right. Sixteen-year-old Travis is also struggling to adjust—juggling a long-distance first love and an attraction to a girl with a wicked sparkle in her eye. And for Maura, ghosts linger here—an unresolved breach with her own beloved sister and a long-ago secret that may now have the power to set her free. . . .
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|Title of Romance eBook: The Geometry of Sisters|
|Release Date: 04-14-2009|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Publishing Group|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||The Geometry of...|
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|Note||ePub, short for electronic publication is one of our favorites and should be yours for a couple of reasons. ePub offers reflowable text giving you flexibility to manipulate how the content is presented. Moreover, lots of cool features are now being developed for the reader like advanced video and audio. ePub is now an industry standard, so all of the "non-propreitary" hardware manufacturers are now supporting it.|
The Geometry of Sisters
On Labor Day my mother and brother piled the station wagon with all our things. Well, except for the ones that had already gone ahead, our furniture and books, on the Whiteflower Van Lines moving truck. So our car is packed with suitcases, duffel bags, Dad's hats, our computer, and our two cats. We stood on Lincoln Street in front of our house—I refuse to say "our old house," even though it's been sold and new people are about to move in—and Mom told us to say goodbye.
I felt like an invisible girl observing the scene: Mom, shorter than I am, thin, shoulder-length brownish hair, wearing jeans and one of Dad's old shirts; Travis, a beanpole with shoulders from all that football, dark brown hair in his blue eyes, Dad's blue eyes—the men in our family have dark blue eyes, Carrie's are light blue, and Mom and I have hazel.
Both Mom and Travis were looking at our house, white with green shutters—I painted those shutters with Carrie and Travis just last summer—and the two maple trees and the dogwoods and big magnolia in the front yard, shady and nice. Carrie taught me how to climb those trees.
Mom looked up at Carrie's room. Travis stood there with his hands in his pockets, gaze as blank as the windows he was staring at. Actually, that's a lie. He had frown lines between his eyebrows. How could he not, about to leave the only house our family had ever known? Me, I refused to say goodbye. If you don't shut the door on something, it means you can always walk back through, right?
Mom taped a note on the door. Can you believe that? As if Carrie is just going to walk up the sidewalk and read that we've