Page 88 of Seasons of Love
This time I walk to my sister’s place. It’s not far, and the evening breeze is a good reprieve from the warmer day.
I steel myself for the onslaught that is my niece and nephew before I ring the bell. When I moved to Stillwater, I stayed here for a few months, but I eventually found my own place, and I know the lovable little terrors miss me as much as I miss them.
I hug the bottle of wine to my chest in case they decide to climb me, just as the door opens and Alice ushers me inside.
She’s wearing a nice dress…and heels. At home?
Are we celebrating something?
“You’re early, but I’ll forgive you because…” She takes the box of chocolates from my hand. “Yes! And this is why you’re my favorite brother.”
I roll my eyes. “How am I early? You said eight, right? Where are the kids?” I follow her, and as we pass the hallway toward the kitchen, I look around and see no trace of children.
The house is oddly tidy.
I’m getting a strange feeling about this.
“They’re in bed already. Max took them to the park this afternoon, and they exhausted themselves. As soon as they had dinner and their bath, they were down for the count.” She smiles like that was a carefully crafted plan.
I don’t blame her. If you could produce energy from children running and screaming at a pitch heard by dogs ten miles away, my sister’s kids could provide power to this town for weeks.
She goes around the kitchen island, where something is bubbling away on the stove.
“Smells nice. What are you cooking?”
“Italian beef ragu with pasta. I found this recipe online, and it had loads of great reviews, so I hope it turns out good,” she says.
The dinner table is fancier than usual, and it’s set for four, which means our brother Darius must be coming too.
“Are we celebrating something?” I ask, pointing to the table.
“Oh, that’s nothing. You know, it’s nice to get out the adult stuff sometimes. Unless you want to eat from Marnie’s Paw Patrol plate.” She raises a brow.
“No, you’re okay,” I chuckle. “Need help with anything?”
“All under control. Let me pour you a glass of wine. After all, you bought it.”
I shake my head. My sister. Scatty. A little crazy. A lot lovable.
I hear the front door open, and a moment later, my brother-in-law, Max, comes into the kitchen holding a cake box from Bittersweet.
“Hey, Ellis.”
I raise my glass, and he gives me a sympathetic nod. Sometimes you need a little fortification to handle my sister.
“Babe, I’ll put the cheesecake in the fridge until after dinner,” Max says to Alice. “Ty—” Alice interrupts Max with a kiss and sends him upstairs to check on the kids.
“Tying loose ends at work. He’s been doing that all day, poor thing. One more reason for this nice dinner.”
That’s…weird, but I don’t mention it. I pick up my glass of wine and walk to the window at the front of the house.
My sister lives in a friendly neighborhood. One of those places where you can leave your kids’ toys outside and no one will take them. Everyone knows everyone, and they even have monthly barbecues in each other’s backyards.
It’s sickly nice, and somehow it suits perfectly the girl who, like me, grew so tired of traveling around the world with our parents that she made a life for herself in the small town we spent our summers in with our grandparents.
Sometimes I wish I’d been as courageous as she was and demanded to come back to Stillwater to live here permanently, finish school, and create some roots. But then again, I settled in Boston when I went to college, and I loved it there. I didn’t consider not living in the city until…well…
I take a sip of wine. I hope it doesn’t go to my head because I’m not in the mood to feel broodier than usual, and it’s hard to put up an act in front of my family.
