Millie
“OKAY, THERE’S AN IMPORTANT TOPIC you’ve been avoiding, and we need to get serious. We’re running out of time,” Dru was saying from my chaise, where she was currently snuggled up with a glass of wine. “Our birthday party.”
“Ugh,” I groaned, throwing my head back and grunting as I hit the cushion behind me. “We’re going to be twenty-nine, not nine, Dru. Aren’t we getting a little old for parties?” I asked. “It’s not even a milestone.”
“Every birthday is a milestone,” Dru said dryly, then looked to where our sister was laying on the floor and added, “Tasha’s got my back on this one.”
“I don’t know,” Tasha replied, tilting her head back so she was looking at us upside down. “Maybe Millie’s right and we’re getting too old to make such a fuss.”
“Too old?” Dru asked with mock fury, sitting up so abruptly that she almost spilled red wine on my gray sofa. Luckily, she didn’t. “We’re still in our twenties, for crying out loud. We should be hitting the clubs, going nuts, instead we work our butts off and a night in with a bottle of wine is considered living it up. Come on, you guys, don’t take my birthday away from me.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at my twin’s dramatics, she’d always been more into parties and celebrations than me.
“What if this year, we only celebrate your birthday with a party, the way you want to?” I suggested. “Mine can be more low key, the way I want it.”
Dru looked at me as if I’d grown another head in the last few minutes.
“We share the same birthday, Millie,” she said, telling me something I obviously already knew. “We’ve always celebrated together.”
“That’s my point. Wouldn’t you rather have a party focused solely on you, instead of on both of us?”
She narrowed her eyes on me and asked, “Do you already have something planned with Jackson, is that why you’re trying to separate things?”
“No, I haven’t even told him our birthday is coming up yet.”
“You totally need to tell him. If he recited Keats to you while making love, I bet he’d do up your birthday all kinds of romantic,” Tasha said on a sigh.
I’d regretted telling them about Jackson’s words almost as soon as they were out of my mouth, but I’d been floating on a cloud and it had just spilled out.
“Shut it,” I ordered as I threw a pillow at Tasha’s head, which she avoided with a giggle.
“Are you serious about this?” Dru asked, still hung up on the birthday thing. Seriously, the girl loved parties, especially in her honor, and I’d never really cared one way or another. Maybe it was time for us to start doing things separately. Our lives had always been practically interchangeable, and although it was scary, I knew they couldn’t remain that way forever.
“Yes,” I replied, smiling at my sister. “Do it up however you want. Whatever theme, whatever food, anything you want.”
“But, what about you?” she asked softly.
“We can go out to lunch or something . . . Oh, I know, we can do brunch. With champagne. And, I’ll come to your party.”
“You don’t think that would be weird?”
“What do you say we give it a try this year, and see how it goes, then, next year, we’ll have a big blowout for our thirtieth?” I suggested.
“I’ll hold you to that,” Dru warned.
“I know,” I said with a laugh.
“Deal,” Dru said, then looked between me and Tasha and added, “So, we have one week to plan the best Speakeasy-themed party ever!”
“I think I know a catering company that can pull it off,” Tasha joked.
“I don’t know, it’s kind of short notice,” I argued.
“Good thing I blocked the date on the calendar six months ago,” Dru countered.
“Of course you did,” I laughed.
Tasha pushed herself up and off of the floor, crossed to get the open bottle of wine, then proceeded to refill our glasses.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to stop by and see how you were doing last night,” I began, watching my younger sister closely for any signs of duress. “How are you doing now, with the whole Jericho thing?”
Tasha tossed the empty bottle in the trash, then came back to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of us. She’d always been the kind of person who’d rather sit on the floor than on furniture; weird, I know, but that was our Tasha.
“I was totally taken off-guard, you know? We were having a good time, watching Ty and Rebecca make a love connection, while laughing at Rob trying to hide beer from Jan, who obviously knew what he was doing, then . . . Bam! Jericho.” Her eyes widened and she took a big gulp of her wine. “It’s crazy that they’re all friends, isn’t it? Totally unexpected.”
“Yeah, I’m so sorry, I had no idea that it was even a possibility that he’d be there,” I assured her. “I mean, Jackson said they were, like, sports-watching friends, but I didn’t know Jericho was actually a friend he hung out with a lot.”
“It’s not your fault, and I’m so sorry that I left like that. Jackson must think I’m a drama queen.”
Tasha laid back, resting her wine glass on her chest. I moved off the couch to sit next to her on the floor.
“No, he doesn’t think that, he likes you both. I think he felt bad, they all did. No one wanted you to feel like you had to leave.”
“I know,” Tasha said softly, her eyes coming to mine as she admitted, “He looked really, really good. Even better than he used to.”
“I’m sorry, babe, and I know you don’t want to hear this, but you should talk to him. Hash it all out and get closure once and for all.”
“Yeah,” she replied, but neither the look on her face nor her tone made it seem like she would be eager to do that any time soon.