“Remember when you were little and insisted on 'helping' me bake?”Mom giggled, her blue eyes sparkling.“You'd end up covered head to toe in flour, more on you than in the bowl!”
I laughed, the sound almost foreign to my own ears these days.“What can I say?I've always been committed to my craft.”
We worked in comfortable silence for a bit, the rhythmic thump of Mom's rolling pin and my knife against the cutting board providing a soothing backdrop.Mom quietly hummed an old Carole King tune that instantly transported me back to the lazy Sunday mornings of my childhood.
As if reading my mind, she said, “I've missed this, honey.The two of us, baking and chatting like old times.”
“Me too, Mom.”I reached over and squeezed her hand, flour and all.“I'm sorry I haven't been around as much lately.It's just been...”I trailed off, unsure how to articulate the emotional mess that had become my life.
“Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for.”She set down the rolling pin and enveloped me in a hug, her floral perfume wrapping around me like a childhood blanket.“I'm so proud of you, you know that?No matter what.”
I blinked rapidly, determined not to let the tears fall.I am so damn tired of crying.
I’d holed myself up in my house for weeks after Ethan left.Between my broken heart and the ache that had taken up permanent residence in my pelvis, the thought ofpeoplingwas unbearable.The chronic pain ranged from dull and achy to sharp and debilitating, but I'd be damned if I let it steal all my joy.I would pull myself up by the bootstraps and get back to living my life.
A knock at the front door interrupted my spiraling thoughts.Pete shot towards the sound, barking excitedly.“That'll be your brother,” Mom said, smoothing her hair.“Fashionably late, as usual.”
I followed her to the door, my heart lifting at the thought of seeing Wick.My brother had always been my fiercest protector and closest confidant.The three years he had on me seemed like an eternity growing up, but as adults, we were closer than ever.
I pulled open the door to find him grinning down at me, a bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of sunflowers in the other.“Hey, little sis,” he said, stepping inside and engulfing me in a bear hug.
“Hi yourself,” I mumbled into his chest, breathing in his familiar cologne.Over his shoulder, I spotted Meghan and Marco, his partners.After that bitch Beth had broken my brother’s heart, I thought he’d never recover.It took him a few years, but he bounced back in spectacular fashion.Despite the judgment they often received for their unconventional relationship, the three of them were perfect together.
“Hey guys, come on in,” I called, extricating myself from Wick's arms.
Meghan looked effortlessly chic in a flowy sundress.She kissed my cheek and handed me the sunflowers.“For the hostess with the mostest,” she said with a wink.
Marco was next, folding me into a hug and planting a kiss on the top of my head.“Something smells amazing,” he said, inhaling deeply.“Please tell me that's your mom's famous pot roast I'm detecting.”
“Close.”I laughed, ushering them into the living room.“Beef stroganoff.There's also mashed potatoes, salad, and rolls, with apple pie for dessert.”
“Marry me.”Marco swooned, clutching his chest.Meghan swatted him playfully.
“Ignore him.He's always thinking with his stomach,” Wick said, flopping down on the couch and patting the seat next to him.“Now, sit.Tell me everything.How are you doing, really?”
I hesitated for a fraction of a second before pasting on my brightest smile and sinking down beside him.“I'm great,” I said, tucking my feet up under me.“I’ve been looking for a job.And Pete and I are having a blast exploring all the dog parks in the city.”
Wick’s hazel eyes searched mine, and I tried not to squirm under his gaze.My brother had always been uncannily perceptive, able to see through my mask of cheerfulness.
“And how's the pain?”he asked, once Meghan and Marco had moved out of earshot to chat with Mom in the kitchen.“Are you managing okay?”
I swallowed, my smile faltering for a second before I hitched it back into place.“It's fine,” I said, waving a dismissive hand.“You know how it is, some good days, some bad.But I'm handling it.The new meds help, and I've been doing a lot of yoga and meditation.”
Wick frowned, clearly unconvinced.He reached out and took my hand.“Liv, you don't have to pretend with me.If you're struggling, if you need help, all you have to do is say the word.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, giving his hand a quick squeeze before pulling away.“But really, I'm okay.I promise.Now, let's go see if Mom needs any help in the kitchen, shall we?”
I stood abruptly, smoothing down my dress.Wick watched me for a long moment before sighing and pushing himself to his feet.He, Meghan and Marco been at my side the night Ethan left.They’d all seen me at my lowest.I refused to worry them more.Besides, when it all got too much, I had Pete.
“Lead the way.”He gestured toward the kitchen.I could feel his eyes on my back and sense the concerned frustration radiating off him in waves.
Mom was pulling dinner out of the oven.Marco was setting the table, carefully arranging the mismatched china and colorful cloth napkins.Meghan poured the wine, her movements graceful and precise.
“There you two are,” Mom said, setting the casserole dish on a trivet.“I was about to call for reinforcements.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Wick said, moving to give her a quick peck on the cheek.“Liv and I were just catching up.Anything we can do to help?”
“You can carry this to the table,” Mom said, handing him the salad bowl.“And Olivia, why don't you grab the rolls?”
