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“Come on, Olivia, think of all the Disney tunes we used to belt out in the car when we were younger.”
My sister squeezed me before holding me at arm’s length.
“Damn, why do you always look so effortlessly put together? I swear my wardrobe is always in a simple rotation of scrubs, tracksuits, mom jeans, and a sweater.”
Growing up, I’d always been a bit of a tomboy. Since college, and now living in New York and having all the different established and up-and-coming designers, it allowed me to evolve and embrace my love of fashion. I knew I was very fortunate, both financially and being unattached without children, that I could indulge more than Olivia. I had always suppressed the pang of judgment from her. Especially given that when we were younger, she and I were never as close as Roman and me. My dad used to say it was simply because she was older, but I just thought she was a bitch. We had gotten closer the older we’d gotten, and she could understand I was not simply her annoying little sister. And I learned to appreciate everything she had done to help my dad raise us.
“Oh, stop it. You look great, and God knows how you do it running after those two and working a full-time job. How’s work going, anyway?”
My sister was a dental hygienist who was either busy at the practice or running around after the girls.
“It’s fine, crazy busy at the moment, but we’ve got two new trainees that will hopefully become full-time staff, so that should help things settle down in the next few weeks.”
Following behind Olivia was her husband, Calvin.
“Serena, always a pleasure to see you.”
“Aww, thanks. How are you doing? What’s the name of the movie you’re working on again?”
Calvin was an indie film producer and split his time between here and LA. He was such a sweet and funny guy, but he also had backbone, which one required if he was going to be going up against my sister in any shape or form.
“Don’t get him started on that. I’ve made him take the weekend off, and that means no work talk.”
I watched as Calvin mouthed, I’ll tell you about it later, and I rolled my lips in to suppress my laugh.
Minutes later, the doorbell rang again. It was my uncle Martin, his wife Angela, and my cousin Anthony. We could finally sit down and eat.
Spending quality time together as a family had always brought me immense happiness.
After dinner, I was listening to Dad talk about visiting the other branches of his garage, as he’d succeeded in expanding my grandpa’s auto shop into a chain of luxury and vintage car repair garages. Along with my uncle’s help, he had a Portland, Austin, and Atlanta branch.
Leaning against the countertop, I took in this moment of happiness and relaxation when I noticed Roman sitting at the table alone and looking down. Walking over, I put my arm around my brother.
“Hey, what’s gotten you so down?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired,” he grumbled.
“Liar, Roman. I know you, and I know when you’re lying to me.”
“It’s nothing. I was just wondering whether it’s a clever idea for me to go to Ruby’s party, that’s all.”
His face was etched with longing and regret as he spoke.
Ruby had been my best friend since high school, and she also used to date Roman. In high school, they were the ‘it’ couple, but after his accident, he spiraled into a deep depression and broke up with Ruby. Then he moved back and decided to help Dad run the shop.
“You guys haven’t been together in years. And it’s not as if you’ve spent time in each other’s company. Come on, she’s my best friend and your friend, too.”
I kept my tone light and cheerful, not wanting to pressure him. I’d always suspected that he regretted breaking up with her.
His slight wince at the word friend felt like confirmation of my suspicions.
“Well, if you want to go, you know it’ll be a good night.”
I smiled.
I was never really a party girl, even in my college years. Still, after moving to Manhattan and running my business, I always appreciated the rare nights out I allowed myself, and most of those consisted of Ruby and me getting all glammed up and hitting various bars and clubs.
“I know it will be a good night. But I don’t know if I want to go, plus I’d have to stay at yours… and I might cramp your style.”
