Miki

 

 

 

“Mikayla, we are so glad you could join us!” The blue eyed beauty beams, cupping my cheek and planting a kiss on my forehead before running her thumb over the lipstick smudge on my skin like I’m still a child and not twenty two.

“Your sister wasn’t sure…” Reagan Sherry, soon to be Reagan Nelson, trails off and clears her throat before plastering a giant grin on her vibrant red lips and exchanging a flustered glance to her almost husband.

“We’re just glad you came for the wedding.” Eli finishes for his bride, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders and giving her a sweet squeeze.

She gazes up at him, rosy cheeked and shimmery eyed… it makes me want to gag.

Love in general makes me want to gag.

Why had I come for this again?

“Well, here I am.” I shrug nonchalantly, nervously shoving a stray lock of brown hair behind my ear, “I brought you a gift.” A beige washcloth and towel set, one of the more interesting items on their registry.

I didn’t tell add that I had been all but dragged here by my older sister or that I only came for the chance to see my cute little nieces again. It didn’t help that my college classes were out on summer break as of yesterday. I couldn’t even use studying as an excuse not to join in the party.

“That is so sweet of you! I, um, I like your haircut. So… trendy.” Reagan offers uncertainly, gesturing towards the chopped bob I’d been rocking for the last few weeks. Brassy strands curl an inch or so above my shoulders as I run my hand through it absently. While once I’d loved having my hair long and gold streaked by the sun, I hadn’t been much in the mood for that kind of upkeep lately. I’d barely had time for anything between my part time job and class.

I give a silent little nod of my chin, wondering what I’d done to deserve this slow death by small talk.

Reagan clears her throat again, rocking up onto the balls of her white heeled feet as she continues to grin. I can practically see her brain racing, trying to come up with any topic of conversation for us to share. I wasn’t sure when my relationship with my older sister’s best friend had gotten so strained. Probably around the same time a distance slowly began to grow between my sister and I. It wasn’t through a fault in any of us, I liked to think.  There were five years and lots of miles between us. It didn’t help that she had the perfect family now - not that I would ever want anything different for her.

Thankfully, before any further forced small talk could take place, Poppy floats up to us like a cool breeze during summer and hooks her elbow around my own, dainty cheek leaning onto my shoulder. I’m grateful for her warmth, the restaurant is cold and goosebumps prickle across my bare arms like freckles.

The past three years I’d been away at college I’d grown taller than my older sister with legs so long I was almost lanky. She’d been jealous of my looks growing up, but now that I’d stagnated at only twenty two years old, I was sure she’d happily soaked up her new role as the ‘pretty one.’

She tilts her amber eyes up towards me, grin spreading across her lips as her hand rests on her swollen belly.

How many babies had Poppy given birth to now? A dozen? She was popping them out like a puppy litter.

“How are you feeling?” Reagan asks lightly, gazing at Poppy’s tummy with a hint of subdued longing, “Are you excited to add a third to your little brood?”

Oh., just two. Plus one on the way.

“I’m doing great. I’m used to all this by now. I didn’t even have morning sickness.” She laughs coyly and I know she’s lying. She’d butt-dialed me a few months ago, leaving me a seven minute long voicemail of her puking her brains out in the toilet and begging Grant for a Nutella burrito.

“Did you bring Hope and Harper?” Eli asks with that sexy Australian accent of his, olive hued eyes skimming the restaurant hosting their rehearsal dinner.

Damn. Reagan was one lucky lady. I’d forgotten the sound of Eli’s voice.

“I did!” Poppy laughs, gesturing behind her to where her husband Grant corrals the beautiful two little girls around a bowl of mac and cheese, “The girls are so excited to see their Aunt Miki.” She adds with a smile towards me, “Why don’t you come say hi?”

With a hasty nod, I let Poppy lead me away from the happy couple towards the small table where Grant Price sits.

“Hey, Mikayla.” He smirks, “Nice hair.”

The surprising sincerity of his gruff voice startles me. I’d forgotten how just… nice Poppy’s husband was. It wasn’t anything I was used to. It almost unnerved me.

“You looked like you were drowning over there.” Poppy giggles into my ear as she ruffles the brunette curls of her two babies’ heads before tiredly sinking down into a chair with a low sigh, smoothing her hands over her big belly. The girls are the perfect mix of their parents. Poppy’s little nose and quick smile, Grant’s gorgeous blue eyes. They’re going to be major heart breakers when they’re older.

“I was fine.” I lie with a faint smile, “It’s nice to talk with them after so long.”

It’d been months since I saw my sister and her family, and probably a whole year at least since I last saw Reagan and Eli.

Poppy nods along, thoroughly unconvinced.

Averting my gaze, my arms swing open as three and a half year old Hope glances up from her dinner. She gives a shrill squeal, sending mac and cheese splattering all over Poppy as the girl gleefully yanks herself up on top the smooth surface of the table to hurl herself into my arms while Grant dives for the scattering silverware and glasses while Poppy snatches up two year old Harper before she can follow suit across the glass tabletop.

“Auntie Miki!” Hope cries from her cozy spot in my lap, pudgy little arms wrapping tight around my neck in a hug that smells like cheese and green apple shampoo, “I didn’t know you were coming! I would’ve drawn you a picture!”

“I’d love a picture!” I coo, squeezing her tight in my arms as she giggles happily.

“Miki! Miki!” Little Harper calls, writhing in her mother’s lap and imitating her big sister. Poppy scoops Harper up under the arms and swings her to the floor so can run to my chair. She darts with unexpected quickness below the table, crawling through the sticky mess between our feet and making Poppy roll her eyes.

“I don’t know why I even try.” She sighs, exasperated.

Harper bumps into my legs, extending her arms up towards me until I pull her up onto my lap as well. She plants a slobbery kiss on my cheek, miniature hands tangling in my short hair as she inspects the new cropped length.

“Told you they were excited.” Poppy smiles sleepily with a shake of her head, long brown curls tumbling across her shoulders.

Grant grins at her, reaching across the table to squeeze her fingers tenderly.

I bounce the two girls on my lap, trying to memorize the wideness of their big sea colored eyes and the way their little lips grin and the sound of their high pitched laughter. I’d missed them, terribly so. Every time I saw them, which was not nearly enough, they were bigger and older and I just wanted to hang on to their sweet innocence a little while longer. It was rejuvenating in a strange way. I’d missed by sister too, of course, but even before her new husband and new life, we’d had little in common. Now it seemed even less so. At least she’d found someone wonderful like Grant. On top of being fabulously wealthy, generous, and kind - he treated my sister like a queen. Poppy and I may not frequently see eye to eye, but she deserved that, especially after she took over caring for me when our parents passed unexpectedly.

I was happy for her.

Even if the way they exchanged subtle looks of affection made my heart sting.

I would never have that.

“Do you want some wine, Miki?” Poppy asks, luring her two kids back to the table with crayons and a coloring book, “I’ll show you where the bar is.”

My lap is cold without the two sticky, wild balls of energy bouncing around on my legs. I watch them bend over the book they share, Hope scrawling furiously with a red crayon.

“I think I can find it.” I reply curiously, arching an eyebrow.

“This is one is going to be for you, Auntie Miki.” She smirks, the perfect image of her father, “It’s going to be the best picture ever!”

“Nu-uh!” Harper cries, sticking out her tongue towards Hope, “I’m going to make Miki the best picture ever!”

“Girls, girls… you both can make Auntie Miki the best picture!” Poppy laughs as she hands Grant the box of crayons and washable markers as the husband and wife exchange one of those discreet looks again. This time, however, it’s not a glance of devoted affection - but one of shared plotting.

An inward groan fills my lungs as I let my head fall backwards against the chair. The strung fairy lights of the intimate restaurant spin over my head as my brain races to figure some way out of the trouble I’m in.

I knew that look of my sister’s all too well. I’d seen it a million times before.

Poppy wanted to talk. And when Poppy wanted to talk, it meant I’d done something wrong - again.

“You know, I’m really not thirsty-”

Poppy narrows her eyes on me, shutting me up real quick. I didn’t have a choice in this discussion.

With an audible groan this time, I roll my eyes at Grant’s faux sympathetic smile and trail after Poppy as she heads in the opposite direction of the bar, towards the back door of the beautiful restaurant.

As we approach the back door, I glance over my shoulder towards the bar on the other end of the restaurant where a man with hair as yellow as ripe corn leans on his elbows. Our gazes connect with the force of a rushing train plowing into my chest, the rich chocolate of his eyes sucking all the breath from my lungs.

I stumble into Poppy’s back, clinging to her hips as my cheeks burn bright red and I wrench my eyes back forward once more. I can still feel him staring at me, the heat of his gaze following the curve of the simple blue dress I’d borrowed from my roommate, the one that was slightly too small and clung to the curves of my body.

We pass by black suit wearing waiters who rush about with trays of hors-devours and under diamond crusted chandeliers lining the hall and I’m too afraid to turn back around now. My throat is dry and each breath burns by the time we turn a sharp corner and I have to brush my palm against the cream colored wall to stay on my feet. Poppy’s flowy pink dress flutters around her knees as she walks, hair blowing back off my face as she thrusts open the door and ushers me outside.

A quaint little wooden bench sits off to the side, surrounded by blooming summer flowers

“What’s on the agenda for this meeting, Poppy?” I croak, hoping she believes my off behavior is a result of reluctance to chat, and not that I’d just spotted the most perfect human being on this planet.

Slouching where I sit on the surprisingly comfortable bench, I cross my arms over my chest like a petulant little girl. She sighs and runs a finger across the delicate blooms of the geraniums at her side, tilting her face back to greet the fading Georgia sun overhead. We watch together as the dewy navy hues of evening suck away the golden haze of afternoon.

My sister had always been the type to appreciate a beautiful sunset, but the longer she takes to piece together her words, the less I look forward to hearing what she has to say.

When Poppy was finally satisfied with the fading darkness of the looming evening, she turns to face me with serious, grim eyes.

“Miki, I’m worried about you.” She finally sighs, reaching out to touch my hand.

I watch her fingers rest atop my own warily.

“I’m not sure why.” I shrug, “I’m going to school like you wanted. I’m going to graduate this year, all A’s. I haven’t missed a class.”

“We barely see you, we don’t often hear from you. I thought that once we put David behind us-”

I flinch visibly at the name of my ex-boyfriend, eyes squeezing shut in surprise.

Even just that one word was enough to make ice run through my veins and my spine go rigid as the bench we sat upon.

Poppy grips my hand in hers, guilt blooming across the soft features of her small face, “God. I’m sorry, Mikayla.” She whispers into the dark, my full name unusual and strange on her shimmery lips, “I didn’t realize it was still so sensitive. I wasn’t being cruel.”

I wasn’t sure that the memory of that awful relationship would ever not be sensitive. I dreamed about him sometimes, those dangerous dark eyes following my every movement. When I woke I had to Google his name to make sure he was still in jail.

Somehow I manage to shake my head as though her words didn’t really matter, but it did, we both knew it. She falters, backpedaling, inhaling deeply as though she’s trying to suck back in the words already spilled - like when you accidentally push way too much toothpaste of the container.

“I just meant…” Poppy mulls over her words, chewing the corner of her lip pensively, like if she said the wrong thing I would turn around and walk myself right off a cliff. Did she really think I was that fragile? “I just meant that I miss you like hell. I still expect you to be in the next bedroom when I wake up. I still think I can run over and tell you something the second anything exciting or sad happens. But you’re not there. You’re hours away. And I hate that. As proud as I am of you for going to school, I hate that you’re so far.”

“I miss you too.” The reply floats of my tongue more quickly than I can catch it, Poppy’s honey colored eyes lighting up instantly.

“Come back home for the summer.” She insists, barely breathing with her excitement as she scoots closer across the rough wood of the creaking bench, “Stay with me and Grant and the girls. I won’t use you as a live in baby sitter, I promise. I can’t promise they won’t jump on your bed at four in the morning when they wake up though.”

Slowly I tug my hand free with a fake laugh, giving a small shake of my head that makes tendrils of my hair tickle my neck, “I really don’t want to take up space in your home. You probably have so much going on.”

I couldn’t explain my hesitancy. Was I afraid of bonding with my sister again? Was I worried I’d never want to leave?

“Oh please, that place is so huge that Hope got lost the other day and we couldn’t find her for an hour. Also, don’t tell Grant that. He was at work.” She grins and lays her arm against the back of the bench, watching me intently, “Why wouldn’t you want to come back for a bit? Is there, perhaps, a man in the picture?”

Her eyebrows waggle up and down suggestively as she giggles like a gossiping schoolgirl.

“Oh please.” I shoot back with a dramatic roll of my eyes, “As if any man would want me.”

The grin falls from Poppy’s face like a deflated balloon from a cloudless sky, “What is that supposed to mean?” She asks softly, “You’re amazing, Miki. You’re smart and so gorgeous-”

“You can spare me the pep talk, sis.” I cringe, struggling not to plunge fingers in my ears and spout ‘la, la, la’ “Seriously.”

Poppy gives a small shrug, but not before throwing in a whispered, “It’s true.”

I look away, snapping a sprig of baby’s breath from the overflowing flower pot and running it under my nose.

“So, if there’s no boy, and no classes, why don’t you want to come stay with us? Just for a bit. Don’t you want to spend as much time with the girls as you can? They’ll only be this little for so long…”

Damn, Poppy. Low blow using the girls as bait to get what you want. I don’t look at her, knowing she’s batting long lashes at me.

I pretend to inspect the branch of tiny white buds in my hands. I pinch one of the delicate buds between my fingers, rolling the white petals thoughtfully. My skin has gotten so pale I almost matched the ivory shade.

I knew Poppy well enough to know that there’s a snowball’s chance in the flames of hell that she will ever give up until I succumb to her demands. She could outmatch a mule with her stubborn scowl. I’d fought with her enough as a teenager to know that I stood no chance.

Plus, she was right. I did want to spend time with my nieces, even if they did come bouncing around my room like Mexican jumping beans all hours of the night.

It’d only be for a little while. A week, maybe.

Sucking in a deep breath, I twist around slightly to look back at her. Judging by the bright, cheery gleam in her wide eyes, she was already well aware of my unspoken answer. Her lips were tense, whole body strained like a taut rubber band waiting to be launched across a classroom at a substitute teacher.

“Fine-”

I barely get the grumble past my lips before she’s squealing like little Hope and throwing her arms tight around my neck.

“Oh my god, we’re going to have so much fun!” She gushes, “We’ll get some ice cream and some sappy movies… is your favorite food still nachos?”

“Whatever you want.” I murmur into the darkness, letting my words get whipped away by the warm breeze as my sister’s long hair blows into my face.

Some things never change. It’s always about what Poppy wants.