Chloe and I stood at the sink in Gigi’s kitchen, peeling about three hundred pounds of spuds.
“Are you sure this is enough?” Chloe said with a giggle. “I’ve never seen so many potatoes.”
“You can never have too many mashed potatoes,” I answered. “Although it does seem like we’ve been peeling for an hour.”
“You have been peeling for an hour. What’s taking you so darn long?” Gigi demanded from the table, where she was chopping celery.
“If you don’t like the way we’re doing it, maybe next year you could assign someone else?”
“This seems like a good job for Ryan and my mom,” Chloe said, winking at me. I love my niece. She’s sassy without being a smart aleck, and I’d spent enough time with teenagers to know that was a very fine line.
“So, Gigi,” I said, changing the subject, “I hope you don’t mind that I invited a friend to join us. He’s a man, but don’t start getting all Gigi on him and asking him all sorts of questions, okay?”
“Well,” she huffed, “I’m not sure what you mean by that, but it doesn’t sound like a compliment.” She was wearing a sweatshirt with a big turkey on it. The turkey was drinking a martini. No wonder she liked that shirt.
“It’s not meant to be an insult, but, you know, he’s new to the island, and sometimes you can come on a little strong. I’d rather we didn’t discuss your sex life with Gus or your dead husbands being sent into space.”
“They’re not being sent into space. Why does everyone keep saying that? They’re just taking a little ride and then drifting back to earth. And anyway, their souls are already up there.”
The door to the kitchen opened, letting in a gust of cold air, and Chloe let out a squeal of glee that had nothing to do with the wind. “Aunt Lilly!” She dropped the potato and the peeler into the sink, just as I turned to see my sister coming through the door.
“Lilly?” I said, instant joy coursing through me. I dropped my own potato and peeler and joined in on the sudden group hug between Lilly, Chloe, Gigi, and myself. “I had no idea you were coming,” I said a minute later as we all untangled. My sister was as beautiful as ever, with her dark hair twisted into a messy bun and the hint of a suntan on her face. She took off her brown parka and hung it on the hooks near Gigi’s front door.
“I know. I wanted it to be a surprise. That’s why I didn’t return your call last week. Sorry about that. Where’s Emily?”
Our other sister came bounding down the stairs and let out a squeal before flinging her arms around Lilly. “Oh my gosh! I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Of course I’m here. As soon as Ryan told Tag he was going to propose, I booked myself a plane ticket. Let’s see the rock.”
Emily held out her hand so that Lilly could demonstrate proper reverence for its luster and size. “Very impressive. Now tell me every detail. How did he ask you?”
I watched as Lilly pulled Emily to the sofa and they settled down on it, giggling like sorority sisters. I felt a pang of something I didn’t want to name. Because if I had to name it, I might have to acknowledge some resentment that I didn’t want to acknowledge. Sure, I’d been the one to virtually raise Lilly. She’d only been five years old when our mother died, and I’d been the one to help her learn how to read, and how to make her bed, and how to tie her shoes. I’d been the one to make sure she had breakfast every morning, and got her homework done in the evenings. And I’d been the one she’d cried to when she’d fallen from a tree and broken her arm. I was the one who stayed after Emily ran away.
But Emily was her hero. Emily was the exotic, worldly sister who’d run off at nineteen to get married and blown back into our lives last summer. It was wrong of me to be jealous of them. So wrong. But the two of them were more alike. I was the other. The bossy, rule-setting sister. I’d never had any adventures of my own to compare to theirs. I was the one who’d come back to the island right after college, and now Lilly was a world-traveling jet-setter in her own right, which widened the gap between us, both physically and emotionally. It wasn’t really fair or productive for me to feel this way, but that didn’t make it untrue.
But then Lilly turned to me and held out her hand. “Come sit with us, Brooke. I’ve missed you so much,” and the world started to right itself again.
The potatoes were finished, although I’m not sure who did them. We all pitched in to make stuffing and green-bean casserole. The house warmed up and the noise increased exponentially as people arrived. Dmitri, wearing a knit beanie today instead of his beekeeping hat. Lovebirds Xavier and Brenden bearing a platter of cheese and olives and crackers and dips.
“That’s a tapenade,” Xavier said, pointing to one of the spreads. “I hate olives, but I love saying the word tapenade.”
Ryan arrived with six bottles of wine, two of which he offered to share, and finally, Leo.
“Should I have brought something?” he whispered to me as I took his coat.
“We’ll have enough food and drinks for about seventy people, so no. You’re good.”
Most everyone had already met him, so introductions were more of a hey, everybody knows Leo, right? And I breathed a sigh of relief as the chief shook his hand.
“Don’t let Gigi talk you into making her a martini,” I told Leo a moment later. “She knows you’re a bartender so she’s sure to ask, but Chloe is martini monitor today.”
“Martini monitor?”
“Yes, we try to keep track of how many she’s had because if we leave it up to her, she’ll have a dozen, and then the turkey will never get finished and she’ll start singing show tunes. That happened one year. She put the turkey in the oven and never turned the oven on. So each year we designate a martini monitor to keep count. Chloe drew the short straw, which is good because she’s only thirteen and won’t end up drunk herself.”
“Come sit on the porch with me. I need some fresh air,” Lilly said, tugging on my sleeve.
Dinner was in the oven, and the only thing left to do was set the table, which Chloe and Brenden were doing right now. I glanced over at Leo, who seemed to be deep in conversation with Dmitri and Ryan. The chief was watching football, and there’d been no dark looks or snarky comments from him, so it was probably safe to leave them alone for a few minutes. I grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around us outside. It was rainy and windy today. Not hospitable, but sitting outside in rough weather was something we’d always loved to do as kids: a habit we’d learned from our mother. She’d take us outside for rain and thunderstorms and blizzards. We’d have blankets and hot chocolate, and all snuggle together on a long outdoor sofa. I couldn’t ever hear thunder without thinking of my mom.
“Leo seems nice,” Lilly said as we sat down on the wicker sofa, which resembled the one from our childhood. She scooched closer and tucked the blanket edges in around us.
“He is.”
She laughed at my brief response. “Sometimes talking to you is just as bad as talking to Dad. How about a few details? Where’s he from? Where’s he going? What’s his story?”
“What are you doing out here?” Emily interrupted, stepping out onto the porch and rubbing her arms for warmth. She had on a pink-and-gray plaid flannel shirt with a pink tank top underneath.
“Just chatting,” I said.
“The smell of that turkey was starting to get to me,” Lilly answered. “I needed some fresh air.”
Emily looked at her quizzically. “The smell of the turkey?”
Lilly nodded. “Yeah, Gigi uses so many spices, it just smells a little strong.”
Emily continued staring at Lilly, until Lilly finally said, “What?”
“Lilly, are you pregnant?”
My head swiveled toward her so fast I heard wind whooshing by my ears.
“What? No, of course not.”
“Are you sure? Because when I was pregnant with Chloe, the smell of meat cooking was enough to make me hurl.”
Lilly shook her head, the messy bun wiggling from side to side. “No. I mean, yes. Yes, I’m sure, and no, I’m not pregnant. I couldn’t be.” She stopped to look at the porch ceiling and started counting on her fingers. My guess was she was tabulating her period and the calendar. She shook her head again, leveling a gaze at Emily. “Yeah, no. I could not be pregnant. Especially since Tag had a vasectomy years ago.”
Emily sat down on a chair across from us. “Sometimes those things don’t take.”
Ryan opened the door and extended his arm outside, Emily’s charcoal-gray wool jacket dangling from his fingers. “Want your coat? It’s cold out.”
She accepted it, slipping it on and blowing him a kiss. “Thanks, babe. Want to come sit out here with us?”
He shook his head. “Nope, have some girl time. Chloe is about to whip my ass in some Xbox game.”
“What’s Leo doing in there?” I asked. If he wasn’t talking to Ryan, he could be fair game for my father.
“He’s fine. He’s watching the game with the chief.”
I nearly jumped up but resisted. “He’s sitting with Dad? Are they talking or just watching?”
Ryan looked at me as if the question was a dumb one, but it wasn’t. It was a perfectly logical and reasonable question.
“Um, I think they’re talking about football. While they watch football.”
“Okay,” I said, when what I really wanted to say was please go sit with them and run interference. Ryan went back inside, Emily wiggled in between Lilly and me, and the blanket was tucked once more.
“Okay,” Emily said. “So you’re not pregnant, but what else is going on? What’s the latest with Tag?”
Lilly fiddled with the tassel on the sofa pillow for a second. “It’s good. Pretty good. You know.”
“Hmm, not sure I do. What do you mean?”
“We’re just having fun. We’ve been to some amazing places, and I love being with him. I love him, but . . . he’s got kind of a retirement frame of mind. I think I’m starting to realize what everyone was saying about the age difference. It’s not that we don’t fit together well, because we get along about virtually everything, but he’s leaving his career in the past, and I haven’t even had one yet. As much as I love the traveling and the fabulous restaurants and the galleries, being perpetually on vacation can get kind of monotonous. I realize that’s a super first-world problem to have, so I feel bad about complaining, but I just always expected my life to have a bit more substance to it. I need to spend some of my life doing something useful.”
“Have you talked to Tag about this?” Emily asked.
“Sort of. I think he understands, but he thinks I should try volunteering for something. He thinks that will make me feel more validated, and maybe he’s right, but I can’t shake the feeling that I should have a job. A real job. But when I told him that, he said he was sure he could find something for me to do at Taggert Property Management. We actually had a huge fight about it because I told him I didn’t just want to be handed some job designed to keep me occupied. It’s not that I’m bored, it’s that I want to do my share. I want to do something that matters.”
That made perfect sense to me. I could totally relate. I reached around Emily and squeezed Lilly’s shoulder. “I understand that feeling,” I said.
“Me too.” Emily nodded.
“I know when I worked here at the preschool on the island it wasn’t some big, significant job, but I was good for those kids. They learned stuff from me. And I could see how relieved the parents were to drop them off in the morning, and then how happy they were to see them again at the end of the day. I served a purpose, and not to toot my own horn, but I was a damn good caregiver. Those kids loved me.”
“That’s true. Kids have always loved you,” I said. Realistically, everybody loved Lilly. She was sweet and good-natured and generous to a fault. Bubbly and beautiful, so it’s no wonder John Taggert had fallen for her. But also, no wonder that the relationship was starting to struggle. I saw Lilly dash a tear from her cheek.
“And I’d better not be pregnant because Tag doesn’t want more kids.” I felt the stab of her words, the pain behind them. Kids loved Lilly, and Lilly loved kids. I couldn’t imagine her going through life without having any of her own.
“I don’t blame him,” she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “His kids are in their thirties, and he doesn’t want to go through all the baby stuff and toddler phases again. But I do. I want kids of my own.”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry,” Emily said, leaning her head on Lilly’s shoulder. “What do you think that means for you and Tag, then?”
Lilly took a big, breathy sigh that shook the whole couch. “I think I have to break up with him. But I don’t really want to. And anyhow, how am I supposed to do that when you and Ryan just got engaged?”
“Ryan and I will figure out our own stuff. You take care of you. Maybe if you end things with him right now, there will be time for the dust to settle before the wedding?”
“Maybe, but I’m not ready. I still love him, and Christmas is coming, and Tag and I have plans to go to the Caribbean in the middle of December. He wanted to come with me for this trip, but something came up with some work project that he had to take care of.”
“I thought he’d retired?” I asked.
“He has, but there are a handful of jobs that he still has to sign off on. Plus I think he sensed that I wanted a little space. It just doesn’t make sense. I mean, love is the simplest, most natural thing in the world to feel, so why does it always end up being so frickin’ complicated?”
Why, indeed.