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“Umm…”
“Would it help persuade you if I said it was my birthday?”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“How old are you going to be?”
“Twenty-four. I’m a Cancer. Which means I’m loyal, dependable, caring, and responsible. Convinced now?”
“Okay.” It’s not like we know anyone else around here or have an excess of party invites. And if something comes up, I doubt we’ll be missed.
“Okay you believe me or okay you’ll be here?”
“Both.” How can I say no to his birthday? I don’t want to say no. I’m just anxious, out of my comfort zone again.
“Great.” I hear some rustling through the phone line, of clothes maybe. “I’ve got to go,” he continues. “I’ll see you this weekend. Thanks again for breakfast.” He clicks off and I’d bet a million dollars I’m glowing like the sun on steroids.
“What’s with your face?” Dixie asks, padding into the kitchen in her bare feet and a faded T-shirt that falls to the tops of her thighs.
“What’s with yours?” I fire back.
She ignores my weak comeback and lifts a blueberry muffin out of the pan sitting on the counter. She breaks it in half, a tiny bit of steam billowing out. “I’m always happy when I’m five hundred bucks richer. Unlike you, princess, I actually have to pay my way.”
The stone she threw lands in the pit of my stomach, but at the same time, I’m thrilled for her. “You won open mic night?”
“I did. You’d know that if you’d stuck around to celebrate with me and our hot neighbors.” Her eyes meet mine, but the sharpness of her gaze has given way to something else. Something she’s not telling me. “How’s Amber?”
“Bunkered. She went straight to her room when we got home, and I haven’t seen her since. Maybe we should check on her?”
“One of us should.” She takes a bite of the muffin. “I nominate you. People don’t find me comforting.”
I can’t argue with that, but her brusque response doesn’t quite hide the fact that she just expressed concern for our sister. She knows it. I know it. She knows I know it. Fighting a gotcha smile the entire time, I plate up a muffin before rounding the breakfast bar and heading out of the room.
I climb the stairs two at a time to check on Amber.
“Come in,” she says after I knock on her door.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Eh,” she says from the comfort of her bed. She’s leaning against the headboard, reading something on her laptop. Or she was. She minimizes her screen as I enter all the way.
“Need anything? I made blueberry muffins.”
She shakes her head. “No thanks. Best keep your distance so you don’t get whatever it is.”
Sounds selfless, but it’s a brush-off. We’ve lived under the same roof for two weeks. I went home with her last night. Whatever bug she’s picked up, I’ve already been exposed to it, so she’s trying to keep me away for her own reasons. “Do you want to see a doctor? Google says there’s an urgent care a few miles away. Dixie or I could drive you.”
“I will if I don’t bounce back soon, but I’m already feeling a little better. Just tired. Right now all I really want to do is rest.”
Hint taken. I leave the muffin on the dresser and escape her room almost as fast as I did the kitchen. Getting dismissed by Vaughn’s dad who doesn’t know me from Eve is one thing, but getting dismissed by my own sister stings—especially after I was there for her last night, but whatever. A couple of weeks together in Los Angeles hasn’t suddenly made us best friends. I hurry to my room, change into better shoes, and slip out of the house to go for a walk. A solo walk. Snowflake is annoyed with me, but I’ll take her out later. I’ve taken to long treks down the hill to search for help wanted signs in windows, grab a coffee, and let the sights and sounds of the city occupy my thoughts. On my dog walks, I tend to think about the fall and law school and how increasingly unappealing I find that life plan the closer it gets. The same trio of questions rotating in my mind…
When is a decision a fact that can’t be undone?
Is it too late for me?
Can I convince myself to take a chance on change?
