My younger sister was now the mature, seasoned one. The one who knew exactly what she was doing. I was the one lagging behind and flailing. “It's not bad. I love having him here. It's just different.”
“You have a rosy glow. That's all that matters.” Amy elbowed me in the ribcage and I laughed again.
“I missed you.” I had to admit it.
“We talk almost every day. And we got together to do all the wedding stuff.”
“I know. It's not the same though. Just hanging out. Talking. It's nice.”
“Speaking of the wedding, I heard from the florist and her quote was quite reasonable, so that's all set.”
I couldn't help but notice how she'd just whizzed past the moment I'd been trying to have with her. “Sounds like you have it all figured out. Anything I can do?”
She shook her head and glanced at the kitchen timer. “Nope. But I'll let you know if that changes. Let's get the guys so we can eat.”
Eamon and Luke were sitting on the living room couch, intently listening to the vinyl spinning on the turntable.
“It's John Martyn,” Eamon shouted above the music.
“I have no clue who that is.” My musical naiveté aside, Eamon was awfully adorable right now. He was so excited. Like a little kid.
“Basically the James Taylor of England. Huge influence on me.”
I sat down on the couch next to him. How awesome to learn something new. “Very cool.”
Luke was beaming at Eamon. They grinned at each other, apparently now bonded over this piece of music synergy between them.
“I’m going to need you to turn that down though.” Amy placed her hand on Luke's shoulder.
He lunged for the volume knob. “Absolutely. Sorry.”
“No worries. We're ready to eat and I'd like to be able to speak during our meal if that's okay with you.”
Eamon and I had a seat at the small table for four, which straddled the space between the living room and kitchen. Amy had set out some familiar cloth napkins with tiny embroidered roses on them—very girly for her, but something our neighbor Mrs. Abelman gave to our family after she learned of Grandma Price's thievery, which included several tablecloths and napkin sets. I could've suggested Amy carry one of these on her wedding day if the necklace didn't pan out, but that would have to be my backup plan. The pearls were my top priority.
Amy brought her culinary masterpiece to the table, setting it right in the center. Luke followed with a basket of bread.
“Looks grand, Amy. Thank you,” Eamon said.
Judging by the blush on her face, you'd have thought he'd told her she was the most beautiful woman in the world. “Aren't you sweet?”
“He is,” I said. “It's absolutely true.”
“Don't tell anyone. It will interfere with my brooding poet image.” Eamon laughed. He was fantastic at poking fun at himself.
The dinner progressed as we roamed from topic to topic—the wedding (of course), music (ditto), and our jobs. I wasn't eager to talk about work, since Miles was making me miserable, but somehow it didn't even matter tonight. The wine was flowing, music playing, and most notably, there wasn't a single instant of tension. As I watched my sister laugh so hard that she was clutching her stomach, I had to wonder if this was what contentment felt like. I couldn't think of anything more I wanted at that moment—my favorite people, good conversation, and a lovely meal. It felt perfect.
“I have aTarte Tatinfor dessert,” Amy announced when it was clear that no one could possibly eat another bite of her magnificent Julia Child moment. “The apples are almost ready. I just need to put on the puff pastry.”
Eamon leaned back and rubbed his flat belly. “Good thing I don't need to do anything tomorrow. Except maybe try to write some songs.”Trybeing the operative word. By his own admission, he'd been anything but prolific since he'd come to New York.
“Okay, Eamon. I'm glad you brought this up. Is it true that Katherine isSunny Girl?” Amy asked.
Eamon put his arm around me and kissed my temple. “One hundred percent true.”
I was filled with a stupid sense of pride. “Told you so.”
Amy did not seem convinced. “Huh.”
