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Willow
“I’m so jealous,”Kendall swoons. “Why can’t I find a guy like Finn? Romantic. Sweet. Hot as fuck. Makes you scream him name—”
“Stop,” I beg when her voice starts to rise.
We’re sitting at a table in the middle of our favorite dive bar, The Bull, around the corner from our apartment, sharing a plate of greasy cheese fries while we wait for our salads to arrive. This is Kendall’s version of a balanced meal.
Artery clogging food, a healthy—dressing on the side—plate of greens, washed down with water or diet soda.
Piper’s tried to explain how unhealthy K’s diet is on multiple occasion. She’s studying nutrition and works at the health and wellness center on campus, hoping to one day counsel young minds. After struggling with bulimia when she was in high school because she was bullied for being overweight, she’s going to make a great role model for those struggling with the same issues.
K’s not bulimic by any means. Or overweight. She rocks her curves, proud of her body. She eats whatever she wants but puts in the work so she can indulge. We both do.
“Look, all I’m saying is that you two are cute. You deserve to be treated like a damn princess, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. And rocking your world on top of it. I don’t understand why you want to keep this a secret.”
She knows why.
We spent the better part of twenty minutes discussing it while we waited for the fries to arrive.
“Max is going to freak out. I just know it, and the last thing I want is for there to be tension between him and Finn, or worse, to ruin their friendship. He won’t be able to handle it right now. He wants people to think he’s handling Dad’s death fine, but I know my brother. He’s masking his feelings and putting up a good front.”
“If your brother really loves you, he’ll get over it. He might be a hard-headed asshole most of the time, but he wants you to be happy.”
The waitress arrives with our salads, cutting off my hesitant reply. Is that all Max wants? For me to be happy? If that’s the case, he’ll have to accept my relationship with Finn because I’m happier than I’ve ever been.
While I was shopping with Evie this afternoon, I made some startling realizations about life.
1. It’s too short to not be happy.
2. If I were to write a dictionary, under the word perfect would be a picture of Finn.
3. I’m still grieving the loss of my father, but he wouldn’t want me to stop living just because he’s no longer here.
I’m fairly certain that was the most encompassing thought of my afternoon. Because my father lived to make his children smile. To brighten our day. To bask in the joy we brought him.
Watching Evie as she went through the motions of trying on dress after dress only drove my realization deeper. After she finally picked out a way-too-revealing-for-my-liking black dress, one that is guaranteed to make Max lose his shit if he sees her in it, I took her out for ice cream. Her grief was written all over her face while I was internalizing mine.
There’s only two years between us but she’s one of my closest friends. Yes, she’s my sister, she’s still young and figuring out who she is, but I’ve always treated her as my equal. In a little less than a month she’ll graduate from high school, and this fall she’ll be joining me and Max at Lake State as a freshman. These should be some of the happiest days of her life but they’re not.
“You know,” I started as she poked at her waffle bowl of Superman ice cream, her favorite, “Dad wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not here so he doesn’t have a say.” Her words are filled with venom, anger.
“You’re right, he’s not. He would be if he could. You and I both know that. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for us, to make us happy.” She doesn’t reply or look up from her ice cream, but I know she heard me. I can see the tears in her eyes she’s trying to contain. “Do you remember your fifth birthday?”
She shakes her head, wiping away a stray tear.
“You wanted a My Little Pony Party. Everything was pink. I thought it was the coolest because that was my favorite color. Max was teasing you because he said you were copying me. Do you know what Dad did, so you’d stop crying?” I pause, giving her a chance to picture the party in her mind. She may not remember it now but it’s a day I’ll never forget. It was the day I realized my little sister looked up to me. I was only seven, but I felt like the coolest person in the universe. “He raided the closets for anything pink that would fit Max and made him wear the outfit all day. He didn’t care that it would embarrass him. Or that my shorts were really tight on him. Or that it was the middle of winter and Max looked like he was going to the beach. All he wanted to do was make you smile because it was your special day.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” she says, finally looking up.
“Mom has pictures somewhere unless Max found them and burned them.”
“I’ll kill him,” she mumbles around a huge bite of her pink, yellow, and blue ice cream.
“You should have seen your smile, Evie. It was so bright. Dad loved it when you smiled. He lived for it. All he wanted was for us to be happy. To not have to worry about things like money. To enjoy our childhood, experience life, and have the freedom to figure out who we are. He may not be here physically, but he’ll always behere,” I state, placing my hand over my heart, “and he still wants all those things for us. He wants us to smile, even though we hurt. To live, even though it feels like we can’t go on. To do what makes us happy.”
Fresh tears form in the corners of her eyes, and this time, she doesn’t shy away when they spill over. Reaching across the table, I pull her hand in mine and gave it a tiny squeeze.
