Chapter 14
Nova
We spot each other from across the room and her eyes light up as mine do. An avalanche of mischief goes rolling through my chest as we move toward each other like speeding trains, dodging around people and furniture.
“You bitch! You cut your hair without telling me!” I yelp as we collide in a messy hug and rock left to right. She releases her death grip and I lean back to pull on the edges of her new shoulder-length bob.
My older sister shrugs a shoulder. “Post-break up protocol,” she tells me. “Just be glad I didn’t dye it orange with cheetah spots like I wanted to. Because that would go over really well when representing my clients in court.”
I pull away from her and gasp. “You and Luke couldn’t work things out?” She shakes her head ruefully and tears settle along the rim of her eyes. “Oh Nadia, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says dismissively as she blinks the tears away. “Luke and I should have never gotten started in the first place. We were friends. And now, we’ve ruined that.” She throws an arm around my shoulder and we walk toward the bar cart. “God, is there anything to drink around here? I could use a stiff drink. Or six.”
I laugh as I grab a tall, empty glass for her and one for myself. I drop a few ice cubes into each then tilt the neck of the vodka bottle over her glass. “Say ‘when’.” Waiting…waiting…waiting…she’s not stopping me. “Dude, say when.”
“When,” my sister grumbles reluctantly just as the damn glass is about to overflow.
I examine her with a furtive eye as I pour myself a much more conservative measure of vodka and add some pineapple juice for the sake of my sobriety. Despite the smile sitting on the surface of her lips, everything about her demeanor tells me that she’s hurting.
Well, tonight it’s my mission to make her feel better. "You told me you were coming tomorrow!" I say.
As I’m stirring my drink, we move to a table nearby. "Well that was the plan, but I hitched a ride into town with dad.”
“Dad’s in town?”
She gives me a dubious nod. Dad’s in town. Of course he is. His mother’s getting married. Still, Nadia and I both know that means trouble.
My sister drops into a seat and I sit across from her. “Anyway, I had to get here today. I couldn’t miss the chance to see some random man grind himself all over my 83-year-old grandmother. No way!"
I glance over to where granny and her friends are sitting at a table, enjoying tea and biscuits. In their little pearls and pastel sweater sets. This is the most uneventful bachelorette party in history.
"There's no stripper," I tell her.
She winks at me. "Not yet."
"Why do I get the feeling that this has something to do with our mother?"
"You know it.” Nadia tips her glass in cheers and alcohol sloshes over the side.
Again—this means trouble.
Because, yes, my mother has managed to keep a cordial relationship with her ex-mother-in-law over the years. But mom and dad hate each other. A lot. I am not excited about the idea of both of them at that wedding together.
Nadia’s laugh fades, morphing into a nasty scowl when she takes that first sip of her ‘cocktail’. She makes a gagging sound and I shove the bread basket her way.
"Oh my god," I mutter under my breath. "And how's dad dealing with mom hanging around anyway?” The last time my parents were in the same room, Cleo, in a fit of rage, was making plans to strangle him with her purse strap and have him turned into taxidermy. My father has deliberately avoided her since.
Nadia waves a hand dismissively. “Mom and dad are complicated. You know that as well I do. They hate each other as much as they love each other.” She takes another sip and this time, there’s less of a cringe. More of a satisfied grin on her mouth.
I should try and get as much conversation out of her as soon as possible because it won’t be long until I’m playing babysitter.
“He didn’t bring someone with him, did he? Another woman.” Things could go from zero to explosive in no time if mom gets her jealousy buttons pushed.
Nadia kind of shudders. “Oh god, no. Thankfully. He’s riding solo these days. His words not mine. I think he’s going through this whole emotional revival phase.”
I sigh in relief.
"So, as previously disclosed, I am attending this function without accompaniment." She stretches her arms out wide to draw attention to the empty seats on either side of her. "As such I shall be dining at the singles' table. Do say that you shall be joining me, fair maiden.”
"Firstly, you won't be at the singles’ table because you're in the wedding party. All the bridesmaids sit together. And secondly..." I draw the word out. "I'm kind of sort of bringing someone."
Her eyes light up like someone flipped the switch on. ”Details…" she demands, pounding both fists into the table excitedly and giving me that authoritarian older sister look that she perfected by the age of five.
“Ah, it’s nothing,” I say. “Just an old friend. You remember Charlie? Reese’s brother?”
Nadia’s lips pucker. “Oh, he was cuutttteee.”
Chuckling deep in my chest, I bring my glass to my lips. “Don’t even.”
“So are you two seeing each other?” She drags her chair closer for the scoop.
“Oh hell no! Charlie’s not the type of guy to date. And even if he were, I wouldn’t ever go there. He’s a friend.”
“So what?”
“Uh, as you yourself just pointed out, getting romantically involved with a friend is a disastrous idea.”
She shakes her head. “There are some men you have to make an exception for. It’s not a matter of choice, it’s a matter of biology. If Charlie looks even half as fuck-worthy as I remember, I’d say he might be worth the risk.”
“Nuh-uh. A guy like Charlie is just six feet, three inches of heartbreak waiting to happen. He’s an unapologetic womanizer.” I sip my drink. “I inherited the batshit crazy recessive gene from Cleo and I’d like very much to keep it dormant. Charlie is the kind of man who would wake it right up.”
She considers my words, no doubt replaying all the times our mom toilet papered one of her ex-husband’s cars or spread garbage all over his mistress’s lawn. Jealousy sometimes turns the women in my lineage into freaks. Nadia slumps back into her chair with a disappointed growl. “I guess you’re right. It’s too bad, though because he always did seem to have the hots for you?” “Me?” I lift a brow in shock.
Angling her chin, she deadpans. “Don’t tell me you never noticed the way he would looked at you. I know you’re not blind.”
“You have an overactive imagination.” I drink again. “You should have gone into fiction writing instead of law.”
“You’re either being modest or you’re in denial. The guy wanted you. Even back then, I could tell.”
My stomach is all twisted up now with a nervous anticipation. Is she right? Can’t be. She hasn’t seen me with Charlie in years. And even back then, he never noticed me. I was just his sister’s pathetic friend who was in constant need of his protection. I was a burden. Nothing else.
Nadia holds my gaze, as if waiting for me to realize that she’s right. She isn’t. She’s wrong. She couldn’t be more wrong.
Thankfully, right then, the provocative music begins and someone switches off all the lights at the back of the room. I press my finger to my lips. “Shhh…The show is about to start.” I fake eagerness just to put an end to the conversation.
But my sister has long forgotten the whole Charlie discussion in her tipsy haze. “I hope you walked with enough dollar bills.” She opens her purse, ready to throw money at the dancer.
The seemingly prim and proper old ladies are already starting to get loose. Grandma’s friend, Delores, makes a walking-stick-assisted dash for the stage. I laugh. “I hope you walked with a defibrillator.”