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Nic, of course, saw that. He raises one perfectly thick eyebrow as if to saygood move, genius. With a hell of a lot more care, I take a sip, extending my middle finger in his direction. He pretends not to notice and looks away.
Two weeks. Why didn’t anyone tell me? I could’ve booked a hotel. In another state.
Okay, that’s exactly why no one told me and there wasn’t a single mention of Nic in the family group chat.
There’s a small chance Nic had similar thoughts. I elbow my way into a spot along the island next to Amanda, accepting the slice of apple blackberry pie from my mother before leaning close to my sister. “Ishestaying here?”
“Yes.” Amanda looks at me pointedly while she sips mulled wine from a floralThis Might Be Winemug. The mug is massive but true—it’s always wine. “Be nice.”
Oh, hey.Be nicenumber two.
“Herehere?” I prompt. “In this househere?”
Amanda rolls her eyes, tucking a strand of light brown hair that’s fallen free from her messy mom bun behind her ear. “Yeah. The kids all think it’s cool.”
I scoff. “The kids also eat their boogers.”
“Not since they were three.” She protests, but amusement turns up the corners of her mouth.
“Their uncle was a goddamn stunt performer. Why don’t they find Timbo cool?” Kids who eat boogers are possibly the only people who would mistake my twin for cool.
Amanda laughs. “They do.”
Timothy’s talking animatedly at the other end of the island. He’s only this excitable when he’s about to blow something up. Or leap off the roof. Or jump a car on a snowboard while another car tows him down the street. And he can’t do those things anymore.
Early retirement isn’t killing him yet. In fact, he looks good. Genuinely happy.
Totally not suspicious at all.
I take a bite of the pie, forgetting about my obnoxious brother and his dick of a best friend. Even on my poor scalded tongue, it’s perfect, the pastry buttery and light, the fruit tart and sweet.
My little involuntary moan at the deliciousness of what will be the first of many, many good things stuffed in my mouth over the holidays goes unnoticed by everyone.
Except for Nic, apparently. His eyes are wide and the faintest hint of a blush creeps up his neck.
He scowls at the‘what?’look I shoot him, tugging at the collar of his expensive shirt before going back to his pie.
Timothy drops a massive paw on Nic’s shoulder, whispering in his ear. Whatever he says deepens Nic’s scowl.
I smirk.
Until Timothy passes behind me, his voice close to my ear. “I saw that.”
Saw what? A glare? Plenty more where that came from.
And yet…watching all my boisterous family talking and laughing, I have to admit Nic’s reserved silence adds something to the chaos. A quiet sturdiness in a sea of noise and motion. Now that he’s back, I feel how much it had been missing.
Not by me, to be clear. I enjoyed the unbalanced, unhinged pandemonium, and I’ll hold my grudge against Nic forever.
