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I went with the nicest way I’d ever heard my job described. “I’m a content creator.”
Diane chimed in, “Oh, like on YouTube?” Then she thanked her dad when he handed her a mimosa.
“Something like that,” I said.
“So, that part about me begging all of you not to ask him a million questions—I did actually say that out loud, didn’t I?” Dylan raised a brow and shot his family a look.
“This is just a basic, getting-to-know-you conversation. No one’s grilling him,” Diane said. “If we really wanted to get nosy, we’d ask if you’re sleeping together.” She obviously said that just to mess with her brother, and she chuckled when he dragged a hand over his face and groaned.
I really enjoyed seeing the way Dylan was with his sister. There was obvious affection there, combined with the type of good-natured teasing you really only saw between close siblings. It was easy to imagine them doing this all their lives.
“Lark’s never going to want to come back here, because you’re all so excruciating,” he said.
His mother shot him the same look he’d just given all of them and asked, “What did I do?”
“You asked if his parents were ornithologists, which is a very weird question,” he told her. “I know a guy named Ash, but I’ve never once asked him if his parents are volcanologists.” Everyone laughed at that.
While they joked with each other, I sat back and watched them. I really liked Dylan’s family. They all seemed to be genuinely nice people who enjoyed each other’s company. That definitely wasn’t the case with all families.
It was also interesting to see how his upbringing had helped shape Dylan into the man he was today. No wonder he was so amazing—and no wonder I was such a hot mess. I couldn’t even imagine who I’d be now if I’d grown up the way he had, with a family this kind, supportive, and loving.
It made me think I really needed to make more of an effort with my brother Logan, even if he wasn’t at a point in his life where he could give much back to me. He’d always been a shy, quiet kid who tried to fly under the radar, and I really hoped he hadn’t become our parents’ scapegoat once I was out of the picture. I knew they wouldn’t turn on our older brother and sister, because they could do no wrong as far as my parents were concerned. That just left Logan.
That idea started to eat away at me, and it made me really want to reach out to my brother. It would be rude to just start texting in the middle of everyone’s conversation, so I got up and asked where the bathroom was. After I followed Dylan’s directions and found it on the other side of the living room, I sat down on the edge of the tub and sent Logan a message. It said: I just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of you, and I hope you’re okay.
He wrote back about a minute later, and it made my heart ache: I’m so tired, Lark. I have no life. All I do is work and go to school. I’m still more than a year away from graduating, and I don’t even know if having a degree will even make a difference. I don’t mean to complain, you just caught me at a low point.
I replied: You’re not complaining. It’s good to vent once in a while.
Logan’s next message said: I have to get ready for work, but thanks for checking on me. You’re the only person who does. I hope you’re doing okay, and I hope we can catch up sometime soon. Sorry I’m always so busy.
That was more than I’d gotten from him in a long time. I sent one more text: I’m always here for you, Logan, whenever you need anything. I really mean that.
He wrote: Thanks. I appreciate it.
I really wanted to go down to L.A. and visit him. The last time we saw each other was four years ago, right before I moved to San Francisco. It had been awkward, because it was right after Gran died and we didn’t really know what to say to each other. But he was so busy now that trying to make time for me would probably just add to his stress. For now, hopefully it was enough to remind him someone cared and was thinking about him.
After I returned the phone to my pocket, I got up and checked my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I regretted dressing down for Dylan’s family. I’d really wanted them to like me, but even if I’d shown up in head-to-toe glitter with my unicorn backpack and a bunch of makeup, I felt sure they would have accepted me.
Of course, I didn’t know that when I got dressed this morning, so I’d gone with an outfit that felt safe and let me blend in. It bothered me when I let fear of rejection stop me from being myself like that. Over the years, I’d put a lot of effort into building my confidence and learning not to care what people thought of me. But times like this showed me I still had a way to go.
I started to head back to the kitchen, but I paused to look around when I reached the gorgeous living room. It was like something from a magazine—classy and perfect. It reminded me of Dylan’s loft in that way, even though the style was completely different. I didn’t know what to call it, but this was warmer and more welcoming somehow. The colors were greens and browns, like a forest, and the thing that really set it apart from the loft was that it was much more personal. For one thing, there were lots of framed photos on the big fireplace mantel.
Curiosity made me walk over and take a look at them. They seemed to be arranged in the order they were taken, so as I walked from left to right I could watch Dylan grow from an adorable baby to a skinny teenager to a man.
And of course, there he was with Travis. His husband had been tall and handsome, and wow did they look happy together. I paused in front of what had to be their wedding portrait, since they were dressed in matching tuxedos. Then I moved down to some pictures of him with Dylan and with other family members.
It was odd to finally have a face to put with the name. He’d almost been an abstract concept before, but now he was a real person to me—someone who’d loved Dylan and been a part of this family.
Over the last month, I’d asked myself more than once how I could compete with this man’s memory, but the answer was so obvious now—I couldn’t. I’d never be a perfect match for Dylan, the way Travis had been. Not even close.
What was Dylan doing with me?
Well, passing the time, maybe. “Dating,” that’s what we were calling it now. Was that even a step up from where we’d started, back when we called ourselves friends with benefits? I had no idea. All I knew was that I was developing very real feelings for him. But was I the only one?
His voice surprised me, since I hadn’t heard him come into the living room. “I thought I’d find you here.”
I kept my back to him as I worked on steadying my emotions. This really wasn’t the time and place for me to melt down into a pile of insecurity. “Yeah, this family gallery is really something.”
