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I roll my eyes as I hang up my bag in the one empty cubby. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs. Folding laundry, I think.”
“Yours?”
“I hope so. I’m out of clean shirts.”
I scoff as I step out of my heels and pull the elastic to free my curls. In addition to being the only daughter, I’m the only one of my siblings who inherited red hair. Seth, like all my brothers, has straight brown hair.
You’d have to squint to possibly think we’re related.
I take another deep breath, savoring the air-conditioning and the comfort of being in my childhood home. It’s the same nostalgia of slipping into a well-worn sweatshirt—familiar and comforting. The whole house smells like old wood and the lavender cleaner my mom uses on everything. And…smoke.
I sniff the air. “Does it smell like something’s burning?”
Seth blanches. “Ah shit,” he mutters, then sprints down the hall.
I pad barefoot after him, pausing to run my fingers along the balusters, like I’m playing a harp. And to look at the family photo prominently displayed on the wall across from the staircase. It was taken at the last event we all dressed up for—my college graduation. I’m smack dab in the center with smooshed hair from my cap and wearing the black gown that’s probably boxed up in the attic somewhere.
The photo was taken right before my mother told me she was proud of me for graduating and prayed that I’d find a job. Voicing what I’m certain my whole family was thinking. They’ve always been cautiously supportive, like they’re collectively waiting for my foray into the fickle industry known as music to turn into a dead end and for me to find a better career. Never discouraging, but neverencouragingeither.
When I walk into the kitchen, Seth is shaking bacon from a skillet onto a paper towel. My nose wrinkles at the smell. It looks well done, but not completely charred.
Seth doesn’t hesitate before chomping on a bite.
“That’s what you’re having for dinner?” I ask, pulling out one of the stools from the island and plopping down on it.
“I just woke up. About to head into work. So…yep.”
“Is Alex here?”
“Nope. Working overtime.”
“Again?”
“Mm-hmm.” Seth iswaymore focused on his bacon than our conversation. He polishes off another piece before glancing at me. “Not all of us work nine-to-five, you know.”
“Iknow.”
Noneof my family members work nine-to-five, which is why I came all the way to Brooklyn after leaving Carl’s office for a second time. Coordinating everyone’s schedules is a Herculean task, and since my schedule is considered the least unpredictable, my attendance at family get-togethers is always taken for granted.
“He’ll be at dinner on Friday night.”
I grimace. “Well, I—”
“Hey, sweetie.” My mom bustles into the kitchen, a stack of dish towels tucked under one arm. The scent of lavender trails behind her. “I didn’t know you were stopping by today.”
“Hi, Mom.” I watch as she tucks the towels into the drawer next to the sink, chewing the inside of my cheek the whole time.
Despite best intentions, there have been dinners where one of us was missing. It’s never been me though. And it’s always been because of some big, important emergency I’m certain my trip to Texas won’t qualify as.
She finishes storing the towels and turns back to face me, smoothing her hair with one hand even though it’s unnecessary. The strands are the same auburn shade as mine, and we share the same half-wavy, half-curly texture too. Her hair is always pulled back in a neat bun though while mine reverts to its current wild state more often than not.
“Want anything to drink?” my mom asks.
I glance reflexively at the white coffeepot sitting on the counter. I started drinking coffee way earlier than I probably should have, thanks to my parents and then brothers. Keeping the odd hours of a big-city cop required an endless supply of caffeine, and so the pot was always at least half-full with an extra-strong brew. Turned me into kind of a coffee snob in addition to creating an addiction.
“I’m good, thanks.” I have a long night of packing ahead, but I’m already plenty jittery. “I just came to tell you…” I exhale. “I can’t make it to family dinner on Friday.”
