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As if on cue, my phone blared to life as I dropped my bags on the kitchen counter, which, like the rest of the apartment, was covered in Sofia’s debris of half-finished drawings and art supplies.
Okay, maybe we didn’t need purpose so much as the housekeeper to come more than twice a week.
“No, no, no screens!”
Sofia skittered away to her room at the familiar FaceTime ring. She particularly disliked talking to her family members through a camera. What was a novelty at first had turned into a chore, and now she ended each conversation asking when they were going to visit, only to burst into tears when they admitted they were not anytime soon.
“Hey, Lea,” I answered the phone, propping it against a stack of books on the kitchen counter so I could set down my purse and get myself a glass of water. “Just me today. Bug isn’t in the mood to talk.”
“No worries,” she said. “How’s the palace?”
I rolled my eyes. Lea had a habit of making everything about Xavier’s money. I knew it was because she and her husband were basically scraping by off his garage salary and the bits she made helping with the books.
“Cluttered,” I joked. “Sofia has made every room her playroom now. Yesterday she constructed a fort in Xavier’s office and he won’t let her take it down. It was the last frontier.”
“Sounds about right. And good for her. Xavier got to skip the first four years of child mess, so it’s only fair she catches him up. So, has he popped the question yet?”
I scowled at the screen, then checked that Sofia was really and truly out of earshot. “You could at least ask if Sofia is around before you do that, you know.”
“Please. Like that little girl isn’t secretly hoping to high heaven that her parents have a big white wedding where she can be the flower girl. And be honest. You telling me you don’t want to be a real life duchess either?”
My stomach twisted. I had to admit, the thought had occurred to me more than once. Yesterday, we’d passed a boutique on Bond Street with the most beautiful lace wedding dress I’d ever seen. Long sleeves, V-neck, full skirt. It would have overwhelmed a short person like me, but that didn’t stop me from imagining what it would be like to walk down the aisle of an old Gothic church with a forty-foot train. Especially if the man waiting for me at the other end had blue eyes, black hair, and a penchant for cursing when he was really excited.
I shook my head. “Still. Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be asking that question? Especially every time I talk to you?”
“No,” Lea replied immediately as she started yanking out some bread and peanut butter from the fridge. She slapped them on the counter and began making sandwiches with the crisp, no-nonsense movements of a mess hall cook.
“No,” parroted Tommy. Or maybe it was Petey. The screen was blurry. One of my nephews had jumped across the screen so fast I couldn’t really tell who it was.
“Pete, did I not tell you to get your shoes on? If I don’t see those laces tied in five minutes, I’ll make you wish you’d chosen the Velcro in ways you don’t want to imagine, sir.” Lea turned back to me placidly, as if she hadn’t just threatened her seven-year-old. “I swear to God, summer camps are gonna be the death of me. Every day, a new time, new things. If it’s not one kid who gets kicked out, it’s the other. I should send one to London with you just to give Xavier a taste of his own medicine.”
I could only laugh. Parenting was a language Lea and I spoke fluently outside of our other siblings, and she seemed to appreciate an outlet, as she was inundated with the stressors of four children to my one. I didn’t envy her that. Just Sofia overwhelmed me most of the time.
“Besides,” I said, continuing the conversation from before. “It hasn’t even been eight months since we ran into each other at that party. And not even two since we officially got back together. Not everyone is you and Mike, you know. Running off to Atlantic City isn’t really my jam, and it’s definitely not Xavier’s.”
Lea applied jelly to the sandwiches with an audible slap. “Under normal circumstances, I’d agree with you, babe—Tommy, I said get your shoes on now. But this is different. You’ve already been involved, the two of you were pining for each other for five years, and you have a freaking child together already. You moved there. So, what’s he waiting for? A divine sign from God?”
“I was never pining for Xavier,” I protested weakly. I couldn’t exactly argue the other two points.
“Frankie.”
“Fine, but there was no way you knew.”
“Frankie.”
“Shut up, Lea. You don’t know everything.”
My sister just chuckled, clearly thinking otherwise. In her highchair next to Lea, where she was playing with some mashed peas, baby Lupe gave a squawk as if to agree with her mother.
“Oh, I meant to ask—I have a bunch of baby clothes this one just grew out of. Since we are officially done with the child-rearing over here, do you want me to set them aside? They’re the only cute girl’s clothes I ever bought.”
I frowned. “What? Why would I want baby clothes? Sofia is four.”
Lea gave me her patented “what are you, stupid?” expression through the camera. “For your next one, obviously.”
I cocked my head. “As far as I know, there is no next one. Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we?”
Lea huffed, then turned to baby Lupe and tapped her nose. “Aunt Frankie is clueless, isn’t she, sweet girl?” Then she turned back to me. “Frankie, don’t be dense. I assume the Kitchen Duke over there wants you to stay in London permanently. Inviting you there this summer was obviously a trial run.”
