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“They really do,” he says. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels like this. You’re, what? Thirty-three?”
My laugh fades. “Yeah.”
This coming April, I’ll be thirty-four. One year closer to being as old as my father was when he died. Since I’ve realized how close I’m getting to outliving him, I dread each birthday a little more.
“Something wrong?” Jamie asks.
I force a smile and lift my hand for the waiter. “Nothing a plate of Reuben nachos won’t cure.”
•FIVE•
Kate
“We’ve arrived!” Bea trills. Shouldering open the door of the Edgy Envelope, she enters the store on a dangerously lopsided twirl that almost takes out a standing display of greeting cards. “Bring Your Sister to Work Day has commenced!”
I shut the door behind me on a sigh. “You are aggressively cheerful when you’re in love.”
“Aren’t I?” She grins.
I roll my eyes, a begrudging smile tugging at my mouth. Bea’s happy in a way I haven’t seen her in years, maybe ever. For her sake, I’m trying to act happy, too. But the truth is I’ve never been good at faking much, especially happiness, and I’m too on edge to be happy right now. This is officially the longest I’ve been home in half a decade, and as I step inside the Edgy Envelope, the place that seems to knit my sisters’ friend group together, worries tangle into an anxious knot beneath my ribs.
How will they see me, what will they think of me, these people who’ve always been more Jules and Bea’s than mine, if I’m not the wild-child sister who shows up once in a blue moon for a couple of fun days that are a blur of board games and beers and not enough time to be known beyond that?
“There you are!” Sula waves from behind the glass-toppedcheckout desk. The owner of the Edgy Envelope, the custom stationery and paper shop for which Bea both designs and works the sales desk, Sula was Jules’s friend first but clearly has become just as close with Bea, whom she squishes into a hard, affectionate hug.
I love hugs, the sensory joy of being wrapped tight and receiving pressure, but something about me must broadcast that I don’t, because I’ve observed how readily people hug my older sisters yet not me. Maybe it’s my height. Maybe it’s my resting bitch face. Maybe today it’s simply because I’m wearing the sling.
Sula turns my way, beaming like the sunrise outside, with her bright smile and burnt orange–dyed buzz cut. “Good to see you, Kate. I’m so glad you’re here!”
“They’re here!” Bea’s friend Toni calls, strolling in with a smile and wave for me and another hug for Bea. “Aaand the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” he says. With a flourish, Toni whips off a floral domed lid on the desk, revealing a glistening tower of glazed doughnuts that smell like autumn incarnate: tart apples and cinnamon, pumpkin and pungent nutmeg, warm vanilla and rich maple syrup.
I stare at the doughnuts, my mouth watering. “Wow.”
Bea smiles up at me. “A welcome home treat. I told him doughnuts and fall flavors were your favorite.”
“She did.” Toni smiles. “And I have to say, they were a nice break from the same three cookie recipes that keep this one smiling for the customers.”
Bea pokes his side. “I smile for the customers! On the rare occasion, I might come off as a little artistically aloof.”
Sula gives Toni a chiding look. “Bea does great with the customers.”
“Thank you!” Beahmphs. “So there, Ton.”
“It was a joke!”
It’s bittersweet, watching them talk with so much familiarity and affectionate teasing. I’ve never been close to anyone like this.
Their teasing stops as Toni takes doughnut orders, setting them on delicate Edgy Envelope house-brand multicolored plates that are made of recycled material, according to their soy-ink-stamped label on the back.
“These are beautiful,” I murmur around a bite of cinnamon-spiced apple cider doughnut, lifting an unused plate to the light.
Bea watches me with a smile on her face. “You’ve got your photographer’s face on.”
“Hot damn.” Sula gasps, dropping her doughnut onto its plate.
“What?” Toni clutches her elbow. “Too sweet? Not fried long enough?”
“The doughnuts are perfect,” I tell him.
