“So that’s it? People don’t change? I haven’t changed?” She exhales sharply with barely-held anger.
I take a steadying breath before answering. “I’m sorry I never gave you the benefit of the doubt, Lor. Always assuming the worst and not even offering a helping hand. I understand why you’d never want help from me. I’ve never given any to Mom and Dad. I just don’t see the good in people the way you do.”
“That’s your problem. You are such a pessimist you can’t even give people the option to succeed. You’re judgmental when you have no business doing so. You decide their fate, then boom, cut them out of your life. Judge. Jury. Executioner.”
Her words ring true in my ear like the swift strike of a gavel. I feel heat rising to my cheeks, and I quickly stand, taking our plates to the sink to rinse them. I need distance from this topic in more ways than one.
“Is that what you did to Celeste?” Ellora asks following behind me, her tone sharp.
“What the fuck does Celeste have to do with any of this?” I manage not to yell but my voice wavers as my anger builds. I clench my jaw, eyes shifting over the backsplash tiles while I wait for Lor’s answer.
How dare she bring up Celeste.
“Dellie told me everything. How she had to take care of Celeste because you yelled at her, judged her. Didn’t give her the space to tell you her story and you just assumed. Am I wrong?”
My hands grip the edge of the sink and I breathe heavily in and out through my nose trying not to lose it on Ellora. I close my eyes and rein in my frustration.
“It’s none of your business,” I say through clenched teeth, still unable to turn and look at her.
“Because you’re unwilling to share! Because you’re in the wrong and unwilling to admit it.” Her snarky reply makes me whip around and get in her face.
“You’re wrong. Sofuckingwrong. As soon those words left my mouth, I knew I fucked up. You want to know why I was so pissed and freaked out on her?” My humourless laugh echoes across my apartment at the idea of having to explain myself to my sister right now. “Because I was jealous, Lor. Okay? She went on a second date with this guy who…” I turn my gaze toward the gloomy day outside my kitchen window. I shake my head in defeat. “He could offer her everything. He has the means to support her, whisk her away to any city in the world. Hell, he could pay for her entire medical school bill and it would barely put a dent in his inheritance.” I scrub a hand down my face.
“Is that what she wants?” Ellora asks, her voice remarkably less snarky.
“I don’t know anymore. She had this list before. All these attributes she wanted in a partner and it was a lot, but honestly she deserves that. Ellora I’m not good enough for her.” My hands subconsciously begin to tidy the kitchen space around me. Ellora’s hand reaches out and firmly holds my arm.
“When I said that you don’t give people the option to succeed, that means you too. You absolutely are good enough for Celeste and by what Dellie has told me about her, she really cares for you too.” Before I can even process her words she reachesup on tiptoes and wraps her arms around me. At first I’m rigid, since an Ellora hug is a very rare occasion. After a moment of shock, I settle into her embrace and feel a sense of gratitude. She pulls out from our hug and shuffles on to a bar stool at the island.
“Dominic, you’ve always been enough. I know you’ve grown up feeling unwanted because we were hopping from home to home but trust me when I say this: you deserve the very fucking best too.”
I turn away from her sniffing and willing myself not to cry in front of her. I know we’re not ten years old anymore and she won’t punch me in the arm for having gooey feelings, but there’s always been this callousness to Ellora that I felt I needed to match. Maybe that’s the effects of toxic masculinity in our society fucking up my emotional side and not being able to express it to my sister. On that thought I turn back to her, steeling my nerves and allowing her to see just how her words have affected me. Raw emotion and all. What I didn’t expect was to see her eyes red-rimmed, glistening tears held back in her hazel eyes. Her tiny pale nose tinted cherry pink.
“We’re really fucked up aren’t we?” She releases a half sob half laugh and wipes at her nose.
I chuckle with her. “Yeah but at least we’re in this together.”
We smile at each other for a moment, just taking in our new found siblinghood as adults. I break the moment with a final question. “So Delaney has told me that even though you specialize in costume design, you’ve done some set design before too?”
Her eyebrows quirk at the unexpected question. “Yeah, why?”
“Do you know anything about carpentry?”
TWENTY-FIVE
Matcha
Dominic
The first weekof October rolls around with a flurry of colour tinged leaves and a cool breeze. With the semester in full force, Biblio & Brew is busier than ever before. New staff have been hired to help accommodate the influx of student interest, and my manager asked me to train a new guy to help run the cafe. I’m thankful for the work though, it keeps my mind from drifting to Celeste every five seconds. Ellora’s words continue to roll around my head like a pinball, ricocheting my emotions alongside.
Judge. Jury. Executioner.
I shake my head hoping her words fall out of my ears and I can rid myself of the awful gut churning feeling I get when I think about it. Maybe this is what facing reality feels like. I had no idea of the kind of childhood Celeste had, dealing with hermother’s cancer all by themselves. Even if I had known, there was no reason I should have snapped at her like I had. That person isn’t who I want to be and I need to do better by her. Betterforher. Better for myself.
The guilt hangs heavy, dragging my shoulders down as I rinse more mugs for the growing number of patrons at the cafe.
“Ahem.” Someone clears their throat behind me and I turn to see Espresso Barbie standing there, glaring at me, tapping her very long and verysharp,acrylic nails on the counter. Well, now is as good of a time as ever to do better. Be better. Make amends.
