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“What thing?” Abi said, deciding that if she was going to watch her sister bake she was going to help herself to her sister’s wine stash. She reached over Leah’s head for one glass and then a second one when Leah gave her a look.
“What thing? The thing with the tree guy—that thing,” Leah said, rolling each section of dough into a long rope.
“It was okay,” Abi said, glad Leah wasn’t looking at her because she knew Leah would take one look at her and know what happened. She wasn’t ready for that. Not when she still wasn’t sure what happened herself.
“Was he a jerk like you thought?”
“Mmm, kind of?” Abi rummaged in a drawer for a corkscrew. Leah had a tendency to put down the corkscrew in odd places. It was the only utensil in her kitchen she consistently lost. Once, Abi had found it in the freezer.
“You don’t have to open a new bottle.” Leah said over her shoulder, “There’s that half bottle of Rosé that Simon bought in the fridge.”
“Fuck Rosé,” Abi said. “I am not in the mood for Rosé. I want real wine.”
“You are so in a mood,” Leah said, scattering more flour on the counter as she started the process of braiding the ropes of dough together. “The tree guy was cute, huh?”
“The tree guy was a big fat jerk,” Abi said pointedly, finding the corkscrew in the cookie jar her sister used to store takeout packets of soy sauce and honey. She opened the cupboard where Leah kept her wine and made a noise of disbelief.
“I told you to drink the Rosé,” Leah said.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were out? I would have brought a bottle with me!”
“How was I supposed to know you were only coming over to drink wine?” Leah said reasonably. “It’s not like you told me you had a thing for the tree guy and needed to drown your feelings.”
Abi didn’t rise to the bait. It was useless to hide anything from her sister. But that didn’t mean she wanted to discuss every single little thing. Her process was to puzzle it all out on her own and only tell Leah about it when necessary. She wasn’t hiding anything, per se, it was just that Leah always had so much going on. Abi didn’t like adding to her issues.
“Did you take your pills?” Abi said. The question was automatic, but the look her sister shot her over her shoulder made Abi feel like a heel.
“Yes, I remembered my pills, thank you,” Leah said, “I love how even though we totally had a full-on fight about this stuff, you still manage to—”
“Okay, I know, I get it,” Abi said, waving a hand. “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry.”
She pulled the dreaded Rosé from the fridge and glared at it.
“It’s not that bad. It’s a blush wine, for God’s sake, you know Simon has good taste. Also, I forgive you.”
“You are very kind,” Abi said, a little surprised. She wouldn’t blame Leah if she wanted to make the point that Abi was being a pain in the ass. Abi was working on not bugging her about her meds, but this was the first time they’d seen each other since the fight, and she should have done a better job at watching what she said. She made a mental note to add Lay off Leah on her running To-Do list. It seemed counterintuitive, and she knew Leah would laugh at her, but if she didn’t, she’d keep forgetting.
“And you’re just so sweet to notice,” Leah said, all innocence. “I told Simon, you know, Abi can’t help being Abi. I shouldn’t get mad at her for being herself. And he agreed. You’re just being you.”
“Do you have any booze?” Abi said, choosing to ignore everything her sister just said. Also, she knew the answer to her own question, she only asked it to cut off Leah. She made a noise to tell her sister she didn’t expect a real answer.
She poured Leah a glass of the wine and put the bottle in the fridge, filling her own wineglass with water. Absently, she walked into the dining area and considered the large fish tank along the wall. Leah had a tank of catfish, and she fretted over them like they were her babies.
Abi had a new understanding of this in theory because she never thought she would ever have strong feelings about Latke, Sour Cream, and Applesauce, though now she chose vegetables specifically because she thought they might like them.
But catfish, really? Abi never understood the appeal, and they all looked the same to her. Though Leah would be able to point out each one and provide its name and likes, as well as at least one cute thing it had done that week. Abi found the box of fish food and lifted the tank lid. Something about feeding fish was soothing.
“Don’t give them too much,” Leah said, a note of warning in her voice. “Agent Cody Banks and James Pond have been food aggressive lately, and I don’t want them attacking Swim Shady.”
“You are such a nerd,” Abi said, but she only measured out about a third of what she knew her sister fed them.
“You weren’t here when they ate Patrick Baitman,” Leah said, completely unapologetic. “It was gruesome.”
“They did not eat that fish,” Abi said, this argument wasn’t old, but they’d had it before. “Catfish don’t eat grown fish.”
“Well, they definitely killed him,” Leah said, shuddering, “And he had… parts missing.”
“Lay, you named him for a serial killer, and he was a little asshole. Are you really surprised the secret agent fish took matters into their own hands?”
