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Any time I’ve heard of something like this before, I’ve dismissed it as tawdry and cheap and an indication of poor impulse control.
After all, there are literally billions of people in the world, and the idea that anyone would argue the need to be with one, specific human who’s not a good match logistically is ridiculous.
I mean, this isn’t normal.
This is some Maury Povich, take-a-DNA-test kind of shit.
Ryan Miller of two months ago understood that. In fact, Ryan Miller of two months ago already would have said his goodbyes.
But why the hell am I struggling so much now?
Carly returns from the bathroom just as Sal and Stella step out of the photo booth, giggling. Carly chews at her lip and stares at the ground, and a lump so large it’s hard to breathe feels lodged in my throat.
I don’t know what to say to break the awkward tension—to bring back our easy nature and laughs. And I don’t know if I ever will.
The truth is it’s hard to be the voice of reason when the things going on in your own mind aren’t attached to logic at all.
I’m not used to feeling so out of control, so overcome by emotion that I can’t be rational. It’s not like me, to say the least, and if I don’t find some normalcy soon, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to stand it.
“I feel like a forty-year-old woman today,” Stella cries, jumping forward and squeezing both of my cheeks in her hands. “A handsome husband-to-be and one of the best-looking future stepsons in the universe. Aren’t I lucky?”
Carly chokes a little, putting a hand to her throat as we all turn to look at her with concern. She waves our attention away.
“Baby, are you okay?” Stella asks, concerned. “My goodness.”
“I just swallowed my saliva wrong,” Carly says through a clogged throat, tears moistening her eyes from the sudden deprivation of oxygen.
Gulping down spit is an everyday function, but I understand her troubles entirely. Every reference to my role as her sibling makes it harder and harder for me to stay upright, let alone breathe normally.
Stella laughs, but strangely, she’s the only one. Even Sal has a pinched mouth as he considers Carly and me closely.
I avoid his eyes and try my best to take the heat off Carly. Regardless of the fact that we can’t seem to look each other in the eye, I’m still desperate to protect her.
Feelings don’t just disappear, it seems, as much as I always assumed they could.
When I get back to New York, I might have to consider sitting down with my overzealous, flirtatious coworker Marcie and talking. Not because I’d ever consider dating her, but because maybe it’s not as easy for her to let the notion go as I’d originally assumed.
Fuck. Just focus on getting through this insane day.
“What’s next?” I force myself to ask, trying to get the freak show on the road. “The beach? Back home? Today’s your day,” I tell Stella with a large—albeit fake—smile. “Lead the way.”
She giggles. “You’re making a bid to be my favorite child already, huh?”
God help us all.
“Carly,” I whisper, grabbing her hand in the driveway and dragging her toward my dad’s house. “Come on. Let’s go talk.”
Stella and my dad are still in her house, their after-dinner champagne toast continuing on even after Carly left the table in a hurry and snuck outside. It’s been an overwhelming day, and I don’t blame her for hitting her limit.
It took me a minute to put down my champagne glass and make an excuse to leave without really tipping off Stella and Sal to major unrest, but thankfully, she’d only made it to the pavement just in front of the garage by the time I caught up.
She pulls back, resisting the direction of my efforts completely.
“What’s there to talk about, Ryan?” she shriek-whispers into the balmy night. “We’re about to be family.” She shakes her head. “Pretty sure there’s not a creature on the planet who’s missed that little tidbit after Stella’s big mouth during our fun-filled day of celebration.”
“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t talk about it, Carly. I’m still me, and you’re still you. What do you want to do? Just never talk to each other again?”
“No,” she snaps.
“Good. Because that’s what it seemed like all day today. You couldn’t even meet my eyes.”
“Because I’m freaking out, Ryan!” she shouts, quieting her voice slightly when she realizes how stark it is against the rest of the calm night. “I may not follow the rules like you, but generally, I’m against the actual practice of incest.”
I roll my eyes. “We’re not blood relatives, Carly. It’s not incest.”
“Yeah, well…right now, it feels like it!”
“Come on,” I order, grabbing her hand and hustling her toward my dad’s house again. Betty’s not an issue, assuming she’s still in the slammer, but in a place like Sunny Creek, you never know what prying eyes are lurking.
