by Kennedy Fox
“Yes, Mom?” I ask from the top of the stairs.
“Your grandma called. Don’t forget to call her back sometime this century.”
I roll my eyes, and before going to change clothes, I peek inside the twin’s room, but they don’t even notice me. Katie and Avery are typical twelve-year-old girls and in the stage of makeup, celebrity crushes, and obsessed with their iPhones. Pretty soon, they’ll be teenagers, which completely blows my mind since I’ve basically helped raise them.
I check in Becca’s room, but she’s not home from soccer practice yet. She’s sixteen and recently got her license, so it’s almost impossible to catch her. I try to be a great big sister, and since I’m the third oldest out of seven, I try to show them that I really care and love them because eventually I’ll move out and things will change. I cried when Sarah and Andrew moved out, especially since we’re so close in age. Piper is three years younger than I am and a freshman in college, so she only makes it home on occasion or when she wants money.
Tonight, I’m meeting up with my best friend, Cade, at a sports bar across town to watch football recaps from last season. It’s typically how we spend our Thursday nights. He loves football, I love football, and together, we’re a match made in heaven—if only he thought so. I’ve been securely placed into the friend zone since we met our freshman year in college, and I doubt that’ll ever change, though a part of me holds out hope that one day he’ll wake up and see who’s been in front of him all along.
Letting out a sigh, I slip on a pair of jeans and boots and wrap a scarf around my neck before walking downstairs. Through the patio doors, I can see Mom on the phone. She waves me outside where she has the small gas firepit lit, and I head over so I can tell her I’m going out for the rest of the night.
As soon as I step outside, the Georgia cold smacks me in the face. Mom’s cup of coffee is steaming. Though I’ve lived here all my life, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the briskness in the air. Thank goodness for central heat. I swipe the hair from my forehead and adjust my ponytail.
Mom points to the phone and mouths, “It’s your grandma.”
I shake my head and show her the time on my phone, gesturing I have to go.
“Sure, she’s right here,” Mom says with a devilish grin. I somehow knew I wasn’t getting out of this one.
I shake my head at her and take the phone. “Hey, Gigi.”
“Mila. You promised me you’d come to visit, and I want to know when you’re coming. The church is hosting a big cakewalk and pie sale for Valentine’s Day, and I know how much you used to love that when you were little.”
I smile. It’s hard to be annoyed when I’m chatting with her, though she doesn’t know when to end a conversation. Not that I take her for granted; I love my Gigi more than anything in the world, but I really do have a football date.
“I’ll have to check and see how much tickets are,” I tell her, knowing I promised I’d spend time with her once I’d graduated and had more free time. I hear papers shuffling, and I’m sure she’s looking through the notepad she writes everything in.
“Before you say anything else, I know it’s short notice, but Papaw said he’d pay for your plane ticket if you came. We miss you, sweetie. And your cousins miss you, too. Plus, since you graduated and are takin’ some time off, maybe you could spend a few weeks or even a month visitin’, comin’ to church, helpin’ around the ranch, collecting eggs from the coop—just like old times.”
I smile. I used to spend a month or two of my summers there each year, but when I started taking summer classes, the tradition broke. Mom looks at me with a grin as she rocks in a chair my older brother made in woodshop in high school. The heat from the firepit licks my face, and I’m tempted to tell Cade to meet me here instead.
“Yeah, Gigi. I’ll come. It’ll be fun.” I reminisce as she explains the cool weather, how Papaw’s doing, and how I used to love visiting when I was younger. We’d go horseback riding and collect farm eggs and feed the pigs. It’s the only time I felt like a true Southerner.
“I know you usually come with your brother and sisters, but you don’t need them to visit your Gigi. It’ll just be me, Papaw, and you for a few weeks,” she explains, though my mind is made up already. “And of course, Katarina,” she adds, mentioning my cousin who I’m pretty close to. I could use some adventure and take some time to relax after a hectic four years of school and really think about my future.
“You’ve convinced me. I’ll be there. But I really gotta go. I love you.” I hurry and hand the phone to Mom before I get stuck chatting all night and reminiscing about old times. I whisper and tell Mom where I’m going and give her a side hug before I leave. We’ve always had a close relationship mainly because I’m more like my mother than any of my sisters. Though she sometimes pries a little too much, she respects my privacy when I need it.
I walk to my car and send a quick text to Cade, letting him know I’m on my way. I get a thumbs up emoji in response. I laugh, crank the car, and head across town with the heat and music blaring. After finding a parking spot, I walk inside and see he’s at the bar—with a girl I don’t recognize—which takes me by surprise. Sucking it up and forcing a smile on my face, I head toward them and interrupt their intimate moment.
“Mila!” He stands and gives me a big side hug. “You have to meet my friend, Kristi.”
He glances at her, and just by that one look, I know they’re more than just friends. Jealousy creeps up and reveals its ugly face, but I try to force it away. Why wouldn’t he tell me he was bringing someone? At least then I wouldn’t have been blindsided by her. The thoughts and questions continue to swirl, but I try to forget it as we greet one another.
“Hey! It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too,” she states as she eyes me—sizing me up. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I hope it’s all good.” Somehow, I manage to be sincere as I sit at the bar on the other side of Cade and order a chicken salad. At times like this, I don’t want to follow my resolution and eat healthily. I want to drink beer and eat a double cheeseburger, but honestly, listening to them flirt kind of ruins my appetite.
Throughout the night, we chat about the replays and quarterbacks, but I can’t help feeling like a third wheel. Their conversation drifts to a more private one, and I take their closeness as my cue to leave before the situation becomes more awkward than it already is.
“I’m going to head out,” I tell him, just as they order another round of drinks.
“No, don’t go. The night is still young.”
Kristi laughs, and I force out a chuckle. “For you two lovebirds maybe, but I have an early day tomorrow.” It’s a lie, I know, but watching them flirt drives a spear into my heart. Just a reminder that I’m only a friend, and that’s all I’ll ever be to him.
“I’ll walk you out,” Cade offers, and I can’t deny him. It’ll be the first time tonight we’ve had any private time, but all I want to do is go home, put on my comfy pants, and eat my weight in ice cream.
Once we’re outside and crossing the parking lot, he asks me what I think about her.
“She’s nice,” I add, unlocking my car and watching the lights flash, hoping they’ll distract me.
“I really like her. She kind of reminds me of you,” Cade tells me, breaking my heart even more. Why would he say something like that? Can’t he see I’ve been here for him this whole time?
I keep a smile—the only security blanket I have at this point. “Then you should go for it.”
“You think so?” He searches my face, and I give him the approval he’s looking for.
I let out a laugh. “It’s not up to me. I don’t have to date her.”
He stops and grabs my hand. “No, but you’re my best friend. I want to know what you really think.”
For a moment, I consider everything I want to say to him and almost lay it all out on the table. I want to ask why I’m not good enough, why he’s never thought of me tha
t way, and what Kristi has that I don’t since she apparently reminds him of me anyway. It’d be easy for me to throw my feelings and heart on the pavement, but instead, I let out a shaky breath.
“I think if you like her, you should see where it leads. That’s the honest truth.”
That million-dollar smile of his returns, and I hate that my heart lurches forward at the sight of it. “Thanks, Mila. Text me when you get home, okay?”
“I will,” I promise as we exchange a quick hug. When we pull apart, I feel the electricity soaring between us, but by the platonic way he looks back at me, I know it’s one-sided. As he walks away, I slip inside the car and crank it, leaning against the headrest. How horrible of a friend would I be to sabotage his new relationship? It’s too risky to say anything now, not when it’s new and fresh and after he admitted how he feels about her. The realization that I’ll be sitting on the sidelines again, waiting for him to wake up, hits me hard.
By the time I make it home, my parents are already in bed, which I’m thankful for. My mom knows I’ve had feelings for Cade for years, and she’ll know something’s up if she seems my face right now. I climb up the stairs, change into a baggy T-shirt, and crawl under the blankets for warmth.
As I toss and turn, I can’t stop thinking about Cade, and the weight on my chest becomes heavy. Being supportive of his bad decisions is what I do. It’s what I’ve always done and what I’ll continue to do because I know him well enough to know he’ll do what he wants anyway. Just before I click on the television, my older sister Sarah, calls me.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks as sweet as pie. I already know what she wants just by her tone, and I smile—happy for the distraction. Sarah’s four years older than I am, so we’ve always been really close. Mom’s told me stories about how excited she was to have a little sister and always enjoyed helping take care of me. We quickly bonded even when we were in different stages of our lives. She’s always been someone I can count on and vice versa.
“Um, well, I’m actually swamped. I plan to sleep until noon, stuff my face with junk food, and watch Netflix all while staying in my sweats all day.”
I’m pathetic.
“Do you think you could break plans with yourself and watch Graham? I have a doctor’s appointment that I totally forgot about, and an old friend wants to meet for brunch afterward. Please, please, please! I’ll pay you whatever you want, and I’ll even grab a bottle of your favorite red wine.”
I let out a laugh. “You don’t have to pay me. What time?”
“Eightish? Um, maybe make it seven?” Her voice fluctuates as if she’s not entirely sure.
“I’ll be there, but I’m feeding him chocolate milk all day, so he’ll be good and wired when you get back,” I tease.
“Bad idea considering he’s lactose intolerant. The joke would be on you, literally,” she retorts.
I chuckle, and a big yawn escapes me, causing her to do the same. I didn’t realize how tired I actually was until now. “Yeah, never mind on that one. Anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”
“Thank you. I love you!”
“Uh-huh, love you too.”
I end the call and set my alarm. I’m feeling restless, so I turn on the TV. Too many thoughts swarm through my head, and they keep going back to Cade and Kristi. Jealousy rears its ugly head again, and I hate that I feel this way. I should be happy for him, yet I replay every stolen glance, every smile—all of the little moments we’ve shared—and the thought of them together almost hurts.
I close my eyes, listening to the soft sounds of the television, not caring what channel it’s on. I don’t watch it but allow the sounds and flashing lights of it to distract me. Though my eyes are closed, and my body’s relaxed, I can’t fall asleep, which frustrates the hell out of me. I need as much rest as I can get because Graham is a handful—especially now that he can walk. Giving up, I sit up in bed, remembering I was supposed to let Cade know when I made it home. Grabbing my phone, I send him a text.
Mila: I made it home.
* * *
Mila: We should probably talk later.
I don’t know what made me send that last message, but there’s just too much weighing on me. Sometimes when a person’s in a weird place, it’s better to talk it out, and he’s my best friend, so I should be able to do that, right? After I think about it, I immediately feel stupid and wish I could delete the message, but it’s too late.
Cade: Yeah. I need to chat with you about some things too.
My heart races as heat rushes to my face.
Mila: Perfect. Tomorrow then?
* * *
Cade: It’s a date.
What the hell does that mean…a date? I’m overanalyzing everything. I lock my phone and eventually fall asleep, though I toss and turn all night, my mind wandering.
My body is awake before my alarm, and I’m exhausted. I slip on some clothes and make my way downstairs. As soon as my foot hits the top step, I can smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen and hear the soft mumbles of my parents chatting in the kitchen. That’s one thing I’ll miss about moving out—my parents. Though a pain in my ass at times when it comes to being nosy in my personal life, I love them so much. Once I come into view, Mom and Dad both turn and stare at me like they’ve seen a ghost. The twins are arguing about something as they eat cereal at the table. Becca comes from downstairs with earbuds in, humming to her music and ignoring everyone as she pops some bread in the toaster. Mom is digging in the fridge for the twins’ lunches, and Dad is searching for something in the cupboards. Since Becca can drive, Mom has one less errand in the morning before work because Becca takes the twins to school. The chaos doesn’t even faze me anymore. This is a typical morning at the Carmichael house.
“What are you doing up so early?” Dad looks down at his watch then back at me. He knows I usually roll out of bed a few hours after the kids leave for school now that I don’t have my student teaching or classes to worry about.
“I told Sarah I’d watch Graham today.” I stumble to the coffeepot, pull a to-go mug from the cupboard, and fill it to the brim.
“You’re so nice. I’m sure she appreciates it.” I look over my shoulder and see Mom smiling.
“Yeah, yeah.” I laugh, blowing on my coffee after adding some creamer. I give them both hugs before I leave and tell my sisters bye.
The morning coolness hits my skin, and I wish I could sit in front of the fireplace all day and watch ESPN. However, considering my sister doesn’t really have anyone else she can depend on, other than family, I don’t want to leave her hanging. Her divorce was a messy one, and now that she has full custody of Graham, I try to help her as much as I can.
I drive a few blocks down the road and park at her house. As soon as I get out of the car, she’s meeting me at the door with Graham in her hands.
“He’s in a special mood this morning,” she warns as he leans his head against her shoulder, looking as cute as ever.
“Hey, Graham Cracker. Wanna see your favorite aunt?” I sweet-talk him, holding out my arms, and he instantly reaches for me. Mom always says I have a magic touch when it comes to kids, and I should open a daycare instead of teaching first graders. Since I’ve grown up helping my parents with my younger siblings and spent several summers watching newborns at the church nursery, I’d almost agree with her. Babies love me, and I love them, and one day, I want to have at least four of my own. Growing up in a household with six siblings shaped the person I am today, and I’ve always dreamed of having a big family once I marry and move out. I smile at the thought when Graham tugs at my hair talking in gibberish.
“Okay, well I’ll see you in a few hours.” I smile at Sarah. She gives Graham a big kiss on his chubby little cheek and tells me thank you several times before I shoo her away. As soon as I try to set Graham down, he screams at the top of his lungs, and I fully understand what Sarah was referring to.
“Graham the Man,” I tease. “No screaming like that or
Aunt Mila isn’t going to play with you,” I warn him, and he looks at me with a death glare and returns his head to my shoulder.
“No!” he tells me, and I know exactly where he got his little attitude from—Sarah.
Once he’s done clinging to me, Graham and I play on the floor with his trucks, Legos, and dinosaurs. He shows me every truck and lines them up. I watch in amazement at how big and smart he’s getting. My heart tugs knowing his father is missing out on experiencing this, but I know it’s his choice not to be involved anymore. It also tugs for Sarah’s sake. She didn’t choose to get pregnant and be a single mom all on her own. Her happily ever after bubble was popped, and now I feel sad that she’s without companionship.
After a couple of hours of playing, I turn on the TV and sit on the couch holding Graham because I know he needs his late-morning nap. We both end up dozing off to the background noise of the TV.
When I wake up, my arm is numb, and a toddler is talking in my face about his toys again, and I let out a small laugh. That hour nap has him so wired; it’s as if Sarah gave him sugar before she left. He scoots himself off the couch and begins picking up dinosaurs and special delivers them all to me. The couch is stacked high. I wish I had half the energy he has before ten o’clock in the morning.
Our day continues forward with snack time, more playing, reading a few books, and just before I’m preparing lunch, Sarah comes home. She’s smiling and hands me a brown bag with what I assume is a bottle of wine.
“You might need it more than I do,” I tell her with a laugh, looking back at Graham.
“It’s your favorite, a gift from me.” She gives me a hug and thanks me for everything. I finish making Graham’s lunch, and just as I set his plate in front of him, he dives in and starts stuffing his face. “Slow down, buddy,” I tell him when the spaghetti sauce starts to cover his face and hands.
