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“Wrong again. I’m getting married!”
Katie spilled her coffee, and it splashed across her skirt and her legs. “Shit.”
“I know you’re not the world’s biggest romantic, but I can’t believe you actually said that.”
“It was a reaction to the severe burn I just gave myself, not a reaction to your news.” She never used to swear, but years working in the emergency department had changed that. “You were saying?” She grabbed paper towels
and mopped the mess. “Married? Who to?”
“What do you mean ‘who to’? To Dan, of course.”
“Do I know about Dan?” Katie lost track of her sister’s relationships. “Oh wait, I do remember you mentioning him. He’s your latest.”
“Not only my latest, but my last. He’s The One.”
Katie rolled her eyes, relieved it wasn’t a video call. “You thought Callum Parish was ‘The One,’ too.”
“He was my first. You always love your first.”
Katie hadn’t loved her first. Katie had never been in love. She was pretty sure that part of her was faulty.
“What’s his problem?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You always pick men who are going through a hard time. You like to save people.”
“That is not true. And Dan doesn’t have a problem, except perhaps that his future sister-in-law is insane.”
Future sister-in-law? Katie struggled to get her head around it. “If he doesn’t have a problem, why are you marrying him?”
“Because I’m in love!”
Love. A disease with an uncertain prognosis that often struck without warning.
“I’m checking you’re not being pressured into something, that’s all. It’s important that you’re doing it for the right reasons.” Katie couldn’t think of a single reason that made sense, but she was willing to accept her own limitations in that area. Rosie was right. She wasn’t romantic. She didn’t watch romantic movies. She didn’t read romance. She didn’t dream of weddings. She lived a life drenched in reality. She saw plenty of endings, few of them happy.
“Can’t you be pleased for me?”
“I’m your big sister. My job is to protect you.”
“From what?”
“From anything and everything that might harm you. In this case, from yourself. You’re impulsive and very free with your affections. You’re gentle, and frankly adorable, and you’re a target for every lame duck.”
“Dan is not a lame duck.”
“Maybe not, but then you don’t see bad in anyone. And—how can I say this without offending you? You’re not a great judge of men.”
“You’ve offended me. And, by the way, ‘adorable’ makes me sound like a puppy that fell in a puddle. It’s not a compliment for someone on track for an academic career. You never take me seriously. Maybe I’m not a high-flying doctor like you, but I’m at Harvard doing a PhD. Some people are impressed by that.”
“I do take you seriously.” Didn’t she? “And it’s possible to be cute and academic. I know some people are impressed, which is why it’s my job to keep you grounded so that the whole Ivy League thing doesn’t go to your head. And to that end we do need to remember here that you’re studying fairy tales, which basically sums up your entire view of life.” It was a long running family joke, but Katie felt a twinge of guilt as she said it. Maybe she’d made that joke a little too often.
“I’m studying Celtic languages, folklore and myth. Not fairy tales.”
“I know, and I’m proud of you.” Katie softened her tone. She was proud of her sister. “I also love you and want to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting. I love him, Katie. Dan is—he’s—incredible. He’s funny, he’s kind, he’s so laid-back it’s unbelievable frankly and he kisses like a god. I never thought I could feel this way.”
