"Auntie Mywa!"

Myra laughed at the bundle of energy hurtling towards her from the sitting room. Adrian, her oldest sister's three year-old, threw his arms around her neck when she bent to greet him.

Myra’s sister Rhonda, had two of the most beautiful children she’d ever seen, and they were polar opposites of each other. Adrian, the youngest, was like his father - gregarious, outspoken, fun. He had sable hair, eyes the color of the sea, and lashes that any girl would kill for.

Rhonda's older son, Brody, was quiet, thoughtful, shy. His eyes were like dark coffee, his hair like his mom’s - jet-black, thick and glossy.

"Hi Addi. How's my favorite youngest nephew?"

Myra ruffled Adrian's hair affectionately and the little boy wrinkled his nose. "You smell funny."

"Adrian!" Rhonda laughed, taking her son's arm. "We don't say things like that." She admonished.

Adrian looked confused. "But it twu!" He complained in whiny, three year-old.

Myra burst out laughing. Would this night of embarrassment never end? She pulled her sister up to give her a hug and kiss. "Do I smell like cow?" She asked, holding Rhonda tight.

"You kinda do." Rhonda giggled. "Why do you smell like cow?"

"She was out painting again." Myra's other sister, Marilyn, guessed, floating over to the group for her own hug.

Myra started laughing again when Marilyn drew back and looked at her with a scrunched face. "What were you doing? Rubbing yourself all over them?”

"I'll go take a shower!" Myra exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

"I don't care if you smell like cow." Myra spun at the rich sound of her father's voice. "Daddy!" She threw her arms around his neck while he pulled her off the ground in the bear-hug style he was known for.

"Hi pumpkin." He set her back on her feet with a twinkle in his dark eyes. "You really do smell like cow."

"Daddy!" She gasped, slapping his arm playfully.

"Go shower sweetie." He smiled kindly at her. "We'll be ready to eat when you're done."

* * *

"So, I have an announcement." Marilyn smiled shyly at everyone seated around the dinner table.

Marilyn and Rhonda were the older sisters every girl wanted. Kind, supportive, loving, generous, beautiful. Rhonda took after their father with her dark eyes and hair. While Marilyn and Myra took after their mother with blonde hair and blue eyes. Of course, Rhonda and Marilyn were both tall, while Myra had to stretch to hit a solid five-two.

Myra was the baby by more than a few years, but she tried as hard as she could to be a mature, sophisticated woman like her sisters. Most of the time though, she just felt like the baby sister who smelled like cows.

The family stopped eating to look at Marilyn who grinned from ear to ear, practically vibrating in her seat. "I'm engaged!" She squealed loudly, thrusting her left hand into the air with unbridled enthusiasm. She moved her hand around so everyone could get a good look at the massive rock that her boyfriend - Fiancé, had claimed her with. Myra was thrilled for Marilyn. She was an amazing person who deserved every happiness. Her now fiancé, Joshua, made her happy, anyone could see that. But as the family crowded around with their oohs and aahs, Myra felt her heart sinking. Marilyn's announcement drove Myra's feelings of inadequacy even deeper. She wouldn't dare tell a soul that she felt like the screw-up of the family. No, she would keep grinning and laughing and being Myra. She was the happy-go-lucky one, the one who wasn't bothered by life, was always positive, always upbeat.

For the most part, she genuinely was a happy person, but somewhere deep inside, where her deepest feelings only came out to play under the cover of darkness, she knew they loved her because she was lovable and cute, not because she made any great contribution to the family. She wanted to make contributions. She tried to make each of her siblings and their significant others feel appreciated. She tried to show her parents how much they meant to her. But Marilyn was twenty-five, on track to become a cardio surgeon. Rhonda was twenty-eight, married to a pilot, and had already given her parents two beautiful grandkids.

Then there was Keegan. He and Liam were the same age at thirty-three, had started a software company together in college, and they were rich. No one knew exactly how rich, because they were both extremely modest, but they were listed in Who’s Who as two of San Diego's most eligible bachelors. So yeah, pretty rich.

Bringing up the rear of this party was adorable little Myra. The one who needed an eye kept on her because she was accident-prone. She could draw and paint and thrift-store shop like a pro, but sophisticated she was not. She decided a while ago, she would just keep doing what she did best until she could figure out a way to do better, but the better part seemed to be taking a while.

She pasted a happy grin on her face, made her eyes twinkle with delight, and hopped up to offer her own congratulations to Marilyn.

"Mar, I'm so happy for you." She gave her sister a tight squeeze and blinked to keep her eyes from bugging out at the sight of Marilyn's ring. "Mar, you won't be able to get that thing through airport security!"

Marilyn laughed, still grinning like a schoolgirl. "I know, right!" She sighed with a dreamy look. "Joshua gets a little carried away sometimes, but I love it."

Myra gave Marilyn one more squeeze, then moved back to her own seat. When she looked up, she caught Liam staring at her and quickly averted her eyes. He did that sometimes, she'd noticed, stared at her with that laser intense focus that made her squirm. It made her feel self-conscious, the way he seemed to be studying her, assessing her.

When she looked back up from taking a few bites to find his eyes still trained on her, she offered a small smile. One he returned, showing one of those dimples that made her knees go weak. Liam held her eyes for one heartbeat, then turned to say something to Keegan. Myra sighed. Liam was her fantasy man come to life, but he thought she was the cute baby sister, just like everyone else. Besides, he was thirty-three, twelve years her senior. If you looked up sophisticated in the dictionary, his picture would be there, hers would be under weirdo. He would obviously never be interested in an adorable misfit who smelled like cows.