Page 113 of Seasons of Love
“Yes. Santa,” I say and give her what she calls my teacher look. “Please be…just, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
I open the door, and for the second time this morning, I’m faced with an even more unexpected visitor.
“I see the face, but I know inside you’re smiling, right?” Darius, my younger brother, says, enveloping me in a bear hug that almost lifts me off the floor.
He’s wearing a T-shirt that shows his tattoo sleeves. The collar has been stretched enough you can see more tattoos underneath, and he’s wearing jeans I would have thrown out years ago. But this is my brother. One coin. Two very different faces.
“I’m ecstatic.”
He ignores me and, like my sister, goes straight to the coffee maker.
“What’s up? Is Bittersweet closed today or what?” I ask.
“Yes,” they say in unison.
I cross my arms. “You’re both here because the coffee shop in town is closed. Nothing to do with Alice having a big mouth and you being nosy?”
“Uh-huh. Do you have any of those French sweet buns you always buy?” Darius asks.
“In case you didn’t notice the lack of signage outside, this isn’t a coffee shop.”
He ignores me and starts going through my pantry.
“Bingo. Want one, sis?”
“Is it those brioches with the cream inside? Hell yeah.”
Darius grabs two and throws one at Alice, who catches it expertly. I was never the sporty sibling in this family.
“Hold up. What happened at Bittersweet for Julius to be closed on a Saturday?” I ask.
Bittersweet is the best—well, only—coffee shop in town, and everyone adores the gentle giant owner, Julius. He’s also a super-talented baker, but he can’t catch a break with trying to find someone to help him out.
“Has one of his new baristas tried setting his kitchen on fire again?” I ask.
“No, I think it might be a family thing this time,” Darius says. “And before you panic, don’t worry. I’ve already checked with the hospital, and he’s not there, nor is anyone from his family.”
There’s a collective sigh.
“Well, this has been great. Thank you for drinking my coffee and raiding my pantry, but you probably have a load of stuff to do, and as you know, I’m expecting someone,” I say, trying to not so subtly get them out of my place before the guy turns up.
“D, is he kicking us out?” Alice asks Darius.
“I think he is, Al. Question is…why?”
I put my hands in the pant pockets and calmly stroll toward my siblings. I even whistle a little tune for good measure.
“Is it almost August already? Oh my, it’ll be Christmas soon…let me think…whose turn is it to have Mom and Dad over for Christmas this year…”
Alice and Darius say each other’s names, followed by a semi-heated discussion about Christmas being for the children and Alice having the bigger house…I tune out after a while.
If I’m right, they’ll argue for another three minutes and then go their separate ways.
“Wait up,” Alice says, raising her hand and narrowing her eyes.
Dammit.
