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Her smile is even bigger than when she burst through my door, and she’s bouncing up and down on top of my coffee table while she stares at me.
“Um, don’t you want to tell me all about how Palmer proposed?” I ask in confusion.
Birdie waves her hand at me before dropping it down to rest on my knee. “It was on TV. You already saw all about how Palmer proposed. Tell me everything that happened while I was in Hawaii. Don’t leave out one detail.”
Now, both of her hands are squeezing my knees, and I’m starting to wonder if she got too much sun in Hawaii and it melted a little of her brain.
“Don’t you have a binder or something for me? I know you bought at least ten bridal magazines at the airport and dog-eared all the pages I need to look at,” I say, looking around her to see if maybe she dropped the magazines on the floor when we hugged.
“There’s plenty of time for wedding planning. Tell me about you. I thought for sure it would have at least forced you to do something else with your hair,” Birdie mutters, looking at all the stray pieces of dark hair that have come loose from my more than messy bun at this point. “Or maybe put on something other than one of your son’s old baseball T-shirts.”
I look down at the blue cotton Warhawk’s shirt that served as Owen’s uniform last travel season and shrug.
“I don’t have a daughter I can share clothes with. I have a teenage son the same size as me, and I’m going to take full advantage of that. His shirts are comfortable,” I remind her. “And I don’t know what it you’re talking about, but nothing happened while you were gone. Nothing exciting ever happens on Summersweet Island, except for that time Palmer came back after not speaking to you for two years, and you almost lodged a driver in his skull.”
“A 9-iron.”
“What?”
“I almost lodged a 9-iron in his skull,” Birdie corrects me. “A driver head is too thick and round and would never make it through all that tissue and bone.”
Once again, I just stare at my sister and shake my head.
“So, nothing at all happened while I was gone?” Birdie asks again, the happy, newly engaged sparkle in her eye starting to dim a little.
Seriously, what the hell is happening right now? Why is my sister currently not on the 100th retelling of her proposal?
“Uh, I worked, dealt with a couple of annoying tourists who wanted to complain about everything, had dinner with mom a few times…” I trail off, trying to think of what I did in the last ten days since Birdie left. Something… anything that will fulfill whatever this obsession she currently has and get her to move on. “Let’s see. Me and a couple of other parents on Owen’s team have been filling in as coaches until they find a replacement, so that’s been taking up a lot of my time. Chad and Nadine asked me to take Tyler to practice for them a few times because they wanted to have some date nights, and Katrina doesn’t have time to order the rally towels for the spaghetti dinner fundraiser, since she and Adam are going to that couple’s spa, so she asked me to handle it. Markell finally hit a bunt properly after I worked with him at practice the other night, so that was pretty cool. Ummm, oh! Melanie told me The Barge is going to start serving their pumpkin pancakes soon, so that’s exciting.”
I smile and nod at Birdie, and she just stares at me, blinking and opening and closing her mouth a few times before she finally finds the words she wants.
She definitely got too much sun.
“You have got to stop saying yes to everyone who asks you for a favor,” Birdie complains with a shake of her head. “So you’re telling me that nothing of importance happened from the night of Owen’s game a few weeks ago, the one you couldn’t make it to because Lorraine Nardini called off because she had the flu and you had to take her shift, until right this minute when I walked in the door? Absolutely nothing?”
“If you’re referring to sperm donor’s visit, it hasn’t happened yet. Do you honestly think I wouldn’t have called you in Hawaii if he showed up here?” I scoff. “Also, I wouldn’t put that in the exciting pile. That goes in the dear God in heaven, what have I done to deserve this bullshit pile.”
“Obviously, I wasn’t talking about Killjoy Kevin. We’ll definitely be discussing that in detail at Sip and Bitch tonight. So you’ve got nothing, huh? Weird….” Birdie trails off.
Leaning forward, I press my palm against my sister’s cheek and then against her forehead.
