Page 7 of On the Ropes
“Well, it’s your dad’s recipe,” Eric said, sitting down with his own plate. “I’ve just subtly perfected it over time.”
My dad grinned. “You’ll be comin’ by the diner while you’re home, right, Tab?”
“Long as you’re cooking up chicken cheesesteaks,” I said, taking another giant bite.
Alexis nudged me from under the table. “What’s the deal? Are you only home for the weekend, or what? I thought after California you were supposed to be spending a few months in Key West.”
Juliet handed me a piece of her breakfast.
“Why thank you,” I said. To my sister, I waggled my eyebrows with every bit of dramatic flair I possessed. “How would you feel about me being back home for two whole weeks?
Dad and Kathleen shared a secretive smile. Alexis caught it.
“Wait, what?” She poked my dad in the arm. “You knew all about this, didn’t you?”
“Your old man’s still got a few tricks up his sleeve.” His eyes were twinkling when they met mine. “Your sister told me some things with her next trip weren’t gonna work out. And I happened to be dropping off some extra food from the restaurant at your aunt Linda’s house when she called. You know Lin’s down the shore every July no matter what.”
“She offered me her place while she was gone,” I added. “And I thought, why the hell not? I need something a little stable for a bit anyway while I hustle up my next few contracts and story ideas.” I leaned over to kiss the top of Juliet’s head. “Now I get to spend the next two weeks with my favorite people.”
“What happened with the Key West gig?” Eric asked.
I leaned back in the chair and sipped my coffee. “They got hit bad with early hurricanes, and the hotel I’d contracted with to produce their new tourism video is closed while they get things fixed up again. But that means for the first time in a while I’m kinda…in limbo.”
And broke—but I was always broke. We didn’t have a ton of money growing up so living on a frugal budget didn’t bother me much. It was nice to have a free place to crash—especially since I didn’t have anything lined up yet.
Freelancing paid my basic living expenses while I was traveling around the country, moving contract to contract. Tourism videos like the one I’d had lined up in Key West paid the best. And I worked with restaurants and small businesses and bigger corporations. But my real passion was filming stories about neighborhood activists or local nonprofits. Mural artists, street fairs, community gardens. All the fascinating ways people took care of one another, finding hope in even the darkest places.
“You know, you could make movies about right here.” Kathleen tapped the table twice as she said this. “Take your camera down the street, and you’d have something interesting by dinner time.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I said.
Alexis propped her chin in her hands. “If you’re here for a while…”
“Yeah, maybe,” I hedged but followed it with a wide grin. “Or maybe I just hang around you all day, annoying the hell out of you until you beg me to get back on the road.”
Kathleen grabbed my hand. The sincerity on her face tightened my throat. “Honey, that is not possible.”
“It’s good to know that when Alexis can no longer stand me, I’ll have safe harbor with you, the book club, and that adult water ice.”
My sister gasped. “You’re such a little liar. We only ever annoyed each other that one year, right, Dad?”
He looked up from his plate. “The year you two were twelve and fifteen is a year that will haunt me to an early grave.”
Eric chuckled as he sipped his coffee. “Oh, this is a year that lives in infamy, to hear Alexis tell it.”
“Because they were a nightmare,” Dad said, though his words lacked heat.
“Oh my God, so dramatic,” Alexis said with an eye roll. “We weren’t that horrible.”
Dad’s eyebrows shot up in response.
I smirked. “There were nights when you and I were arguing so much, you would take your dinner upstairs and eat it away from me because you couldn’t freaking stand looking at my freaking face. A direct quote.”
Alexis dropped her head into her hands with a groan. “Okay, yes, I was a slightly dramatic teenager. But you,dear sister, were doing things like reading my journal, listening to my phone calls. You stole my curling iron and hid it, and that was my prized possession that year.”
“You did love that curling iron,” Dad mused with a sigh. “I sent your mother out late on a Friday night to buy you a new one because I asked Tabitha where she’d hid it.” His lips twitched. “And she’d forgotten.”
Eric threw his head back and laughed. “That makes this story even better.”
