I held the Whole Foods bag out to the side so it wouldn’t get crushed – those nine-dollar organic potato chips were too precious to waste – and leaned in for a hug. My mother’s familiar gardenia perfume washed over me and I breathed in deep as she kissed my cheek.
“Where’s Steven?” I asked.
My dad laughed. “Working late, again,” he said as he shook his head. “He’ll be here for dinner.”
“I have a cheese plate in the fridge,” Mom added. “With all of your favorites, honey, doesn’t that sound nice?”
I nodded. “I brought snacks, too,” I said as I handed her the bag. Mom peered inside.
“Thank you, honey,” she said. “This all looks wonderful.”
I had the sinking feeling that my forty bucks worth of groceries would not only not make it to the table, but would languish at the back of my parents’ walk-in pantry for months. I should have known better than to grab everything from the clearance aisles. Chips – no matter how expensive and ethically-sourced – clearly weren’t what my mother would deem an appropriate snack to put on a fancy tray.
There it was again – that feeling of being a kid, like I’d somehow messed up and made a mistake without even realizing what I’d done.
“What’s the matter?” Mom asked.
My face must have shown my feelings – something that I had never been very good at concealing, and I shook my head.
“Nothing,” I said as brightly as I could. “If you don’t want to put the chips out, just hang on to them.”
Mom went into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Dad. I sat down on the leather sectional couch and crossed my legs at the ankle.
“How’s the big city, honey?” Dad asked.
I flushed slightly. “I’ve been living there for years,” I said. “It hasn’t changed much. But it’s good,” I added quickly.
Dad nodded. “But you haven’t been out on your own for long,” he pointed out.
“Living by myself feels good,” I said. “I’m just glad I was able to make it happen.”
“Your roommates were nice girls,” Dad said. My flush darkened. Emily and Liese had been nice girls – key word being girls. They had been at least ten years younger than me, and although I’d never actually confirmed the age difference, their lives had been about as foreign from mine as the moon from the sun. They had partied and drank and laughed and had so much fun together, whereas I’d spent most of my free time in my room, reading, or going to cheap diners with my best friend Anna. When I had finally been able to move out of the shared apartment in Queens into my own space in Brooklyn, Liese and Emily had surprised me by crying and giving me a present – a new Crock Pot that could do all kinds of things, even make yogurt.
I felt a pang of guilt – we’d made a promise to keep in touch, but I didn’t do much now beyond looking at their Instagram stories or liking their Facebook posts. If anything, seeing their stuff online just highlighted the age difference between us.
And how glad I was to be finally out on my own. Living with them had been a necessity after leaving Curt. I’d needed a safe place of my own, and a cheap place at that while I finished my bachelor’s degree and went to paralegal school. I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, especially not my parents, but even though Liese and Emily had been in their twenties, living with them had given me a kind of security. Back when I had first moved in, I had been so afraid of being on my own.
Now, though, I was finally hoping to move past that and embrace my inner strength.
When I turned to Dad, I saw that he was giving me a strange look and I coughed slightly.
“They were,” I agreed.
Thankfully, before things could get any more awkward, the front door swung open and my younger brother, Steven, walked inside.
“Lyss!” Steven practically yelled. Despite being thirty-two, he was still as ebullient as a kid and his grin was as infectious as it always had been. I got to my feet and he bounded across the room and pulled me into a bear-hug.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” Steven complained as we pulled apart. “You too busy for your family now, huh?” He rubbed the top of my head and I giggled and groaned.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Things have been so crazy at work, and I just finished unpacking.”
“When are you gonna have all of us come over for dinner?” Steven teased.
I flushed, immediately thinking back to my new dining room table – and how it was buried under piles of things.
“Soon,” I promised.
That was another reason why I loved my younger brother so much. Like me, he’d of course grown up with money and privilege. But unlike our parents, Steven didn’t have a pretentious bone in his body. He was eager for everything, even to see my crappy new Brooklyn apartment and eat whatever cheap meal I would no doubt cobble together. He’d even compliment it and mean every word. Whereas my parents would likely smile and praise my cooking, then take a bite and quietly push the rest of the food around on their plates.
They meant well – of course, they did. But it was like the generational divide had never been as wide as it was when we were in the same room, or when I had to worry about impressing them with something like spaghetti Alfredo, even if the sauce was homemade from scratch.
I hadn’t always felt this awkward around my parents. Things had been different when I had been growing up, before I’d met my ex-husband.
I must be getting my period, I thought as I blinked. I don’t know why I’m dwelling on all of this crap today.
Mom came out of the kitchen and gave Steven a peck on the cheek.
“Dinner’s ready,” she said. “Everyone feel like sitting down?”
Steven nodded. “I’m starving,” he groaned.
My father raised an eyebrow. “You know,” he said. “If you hadn’t started your own firm, I bet you’d be having catered lunches on the regular.”
Steven laughed. “Yeah, but having my own office means I get to set the dress code,” he replied. “Unless a client comes in, I’m in jeans every single day. Lyss works in a firm – you’d give up free lunch for that, right?”
I didn’t tell him the truth – that in the past, I’d often snuck home leftovers from catered lunches because I hadn’t been able to afford meals of my own.
Thankfully, that was another thing that I hoped was long in the past for me.
We went into the dining room and sat down. Mom had set the table beautifully, with candles lit and everything plated.
“This is from Bressio’s,” she explained. “That’s the new place, over in New Canaan. Steven, I think it’s right across from your house – have you been there yet?”
“Not yet,” Steven said. “Meredith’s been bugging me to go, though,” he added.
I narrowed my eyes. Even on Steven’s accountant salary, I knew that starting his own firm had taken a tremendous amount of money ... he definitely didn’t have the scratch to be taking his fiancée out to a four-star restaurant.
“She’s got good taste,” Mom said comfortably.
She’s got expensive taste, I thought, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. I loved my little brother, more than anyone else in the world, and if blonde Meredith was who he had chosen, I was more than happy to become a sister to her, too.
“So, Lyss,” Steven said, turning to me and holding his fork mid-air. “How’s the new digs?”
“Good,” I said. “I’m mostly unpacked – I still have a ton of stuff to buy, though.”
“Need some help?” Dad asked.
I shook my head quickly. This wasn’t the first – or the only – time that my parents had offered to help. And I couldn’t lie, sometimes I was tempted to accept what they offered.
But I was thirty-seven, after all, alarmingly close to forty. And taking money from my comfortable parents at this stage of my life would have felt like such a huge, colossal step backwards that I didn’t think I could handle it.
Maybe I was strong, after all.
Or maybe I was just prideful.
“No, thank you,” I said. “I appreciate the offer, though.”
Mom frowned. “Honey, we don’t want you living in squalor,” she said. “We want you to be comfortable.”
“I’m not living in squalor,” I protested. “I’m living in Brooklyn – it’s actually pretty nice. There are a lot of families in my building. It’s safe,” I added, though I knew my words would do little to convince my parents of that fact. To them, anything outside of the rich bubble of Connecticut was like living in the projects.
“And she’s on her own,” Steven chimed in. “That’s so cool, Lyss. That has to feel so good.”
I smiled. That was just one of the many reasons why I loved my brother so darned much – he was never patronizing. He was my biggest cheerleader, aside from my best friend Anna, and I always felt like he was on my side, one hundred percent.
“It does,” I said. “It feels really, really good.”
“Oh,” Steven said, leaning back in his chair. “I forgot to mention it, but Dan might swing by later. That cool?”
“Oh my goodness, yes,” Mom chirped. “How is Danny, anyway? We haven’t seen him in ages! Did you know his mother wants to put their house up for sale? She’s talking about moving to Arizona!”
Steven chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, he told me about that,” he said. He eyed me. “Think he still has the hots for you, sis?”
I blushed hotly. “Of course not,” I said. “That was ages ago.”
Danny – Dan, now – was my younger brother’s best friend. He had been since we were all kids, and Dan’s family had moved into the house across the street from my parents. He had been a nice kid, albeit a little awkward. Smart and shy and bookish.
I’d always liked him – and he’d always nursed a crush on me that had made me feel like an older sister to him, too. I hadn’t seen him in years, and I wondered if he was still lanky and tow-headed. For what felt like the millionth time that night, I realized that I’d lost over ten years of my life to a stupid, horrific mistake.
We chatted and talked all through dinner – Steven telling stories about his new firm, and Mom talking about her garden club and the disastrous symphony fundraiser that she was chairing. Hours slipped by and I gorged myself on the expensive Italian catering until I was so full that I could hardly move.
“Damn,” Steven said, interrupting one of Mom’s stories and looking down at his phone.
“What, honey?” Mom asked.
“Dan’s not coming,” he said. “He said he ran into some problem at work and he has to stay late.”
“Oh, that’s a shame,” Mom replied. She frowned. “I ordered so much food – I was going to send him home with the leftovers!”
I knew it was silly – I hadn’t seen Dan in years, after all – but I felt an irrational swell of disappointment that he wasn’t coming.
Oh, well, I told myself, although I wasn’t sure where the feeling came from. Was it that I had been hoping Dan’s visit would take some of the attention and parental pity off me?
Or had I really been hoping to see him, to catch up with my younger brother’s best friend? Over the years, I had gotten so good – or bad, depending on the perspective – at compartmentalizing my feelings and actions and beliefs that feeling any kind of disappointment was a surprise, like feeling an old wound open up and start to bleed once again. And it was strange – while I’d always had a lot of affectionate feelings for Dan, it wasn’t like I’d made the effort to get back in touch after I’d started getting my life back on track.
At any rate, the message was clear.
Today was clearly not my day, and I was just going to have to move past that on my own.
2
Dan -- Monday
“Don’t forget, Dr. Andrews,” my receptionist, Alice, began. “You’re out next Monday for the morning– you have that conference.”
“Shit,” I muttered. I had totally forgotten – it was something I’d signed up for ages ago, some kind of half-day thing where I’d learn about the latest and greatest in artificial insemination technology.
Riveting, I know.
Or at least, it was to me. A lot of people became fertility specialists because it was such a lucrative field, but I took pride in my work. My parents had struggled with fertility issues of their own – watching my mother suffer one miscarriage after the next had made me feel so sad and powerless and frustrated as a child. It wasn’t so much that I’d wanted a younger sibling, but seeing my mother so heartbroken had stayed with – and changed – me.
I’d vowed to change all of that. And while I’d become a doctor far too late to help my own parents, I was dedicated to helping my patients achieve their goals of having children through any ethical means necessary. At thirty-two, I was younger than most of my peers. I knew that sometimes, older medical professionals thought of me as a bit of a Pollyanna type, but I didn’t care.
My practice was very important to me. It gave me purpose in life, and I intended to spend the rest of my years becoming as skilled as I possibly could.
Alice smiled ruefully. “You’ll have fun, I’m sure,” she said drily.
“Yes,” I said, matching her tone of slight sarcasm.
Alice squinted at the iPad in her hands. “Looks like you made a note for this evening,” she said. “Drinks with Steven and M?”
I nodded. “My best friend,” I explained. “And his fiancée,” I added, struggling not to groan.
Alice gave me a sympathetic look. “It’s always like that, when friends get engaged,” she said. “It’s like, I told my best friend – you’re my best friend, I don’t need two for the price of one. Even though her fiancé is like, totally fine.”
I didn’t say anything. Steven had been my best friend since we were kids, and like me, he’d usually been too busy for relationships. Meredith, however, was different – she’d horned in on his life to the point where he couldn’t ignore her. I kept telling myself that I only didn’t trust her because I didn’t know her well yet, but deep down I had the feeling there was something more.
“Yeah, well,” I said finally. “It’d be nice to just have a couple of beers with him without her around, but that’s probably over now.”
Alice wrinkled her forehead at me and patted my shoulder. “So, that conference tomorrow is sounding a lot more fun right now, I bet,” she teased.
I groaned. “You bet,” I muttered.
Alice left my office, closing the door behind her, and I leaned back in my chair and looked at the ceiling. I work too much, I told myself.
If I wasn’t such a complete slave to my practice, maybe I’d be out there dating.
I knew that the possibility should excite me – but it didn’t. The prospect of getting involved with a woman, only to get to know her and realize her faults and flaws were all too real, wasn’t only daunting: it was disappointing. I didn’t want to take time away from my practice only to break up with someone after a few months or years.
Or maybe, I was just making excuses.
Rolling my eyes, I got to my feet and took my coat off. After hanging it on the hook I’d installed on my door, I reached for my briefcase and left the office. Alice was furiously clacking away at the front desk iMac, craning her head to the side to balance the phone against her ear, and she looked at me from the corner of her eye as I passed by and waved.
Outside, the weather was unseasonably warm. The sun was sinking low in the sky – despite the almost-hot weather, it was still January, after all. I’d planned on taking an Uber to the bar where Steven and I had been drinking together for years, but the weather was so surprising that I decided to walk instead. I made my way down the street, turned left, then down another eight blocks before I reached the dive bar that had somehow stood the test of time – and gentrification – in New York.
Steven was sitting at the bar, and he nodded and smirked when he saw me.
“Idiot,” he greeted me. “You missed family dinner last
night. My mom was so disappointed. She even made extra for you to take home.”
“Fuck,” I groaned. “I forgot – I’m really sorry.”
“You should be,” Steven said, but he was grinning now and he playfully punched me in the arm. “Lyss came up from Brooklyn – you know she got her own place again? She’s really happy,” he continued. “I think things are finally starting to turn around for her.”
There it was – the mention of Lyssa, Steven’s sister who I’d nursed a major crush on for years.
Just when I thought I was over it, over her, just the mention of her name was enough to make my dick hard. Lyssa had flashing blue eyes and curves that wouldn’t quit – back when we had been kids, I’d watched her sunbathe at her parents’ pool.
Fighting the urge to jack off had been harder than anything I’d done at age fifteen. Harder than AP Calculus, harder than cramming for the ACT and SAT, and a hell of a lot harder than keeping my position as the valedictorian of my class. Girls my own age wouldn’t cut it – Lyssa was only five years older, but five years between fifteen and twenty had been the widest gulf imaginable.
Of course, she hadn’t ever done anything to encourage my crush ... which somehow, just made it stronger and all the more unbearable.
Shit, just thinking about her now was making the feelings start to come back with a vengeance.
“So, she’s doing well?” I asked, as innocently as I could.
“She is,” Steven said. He nodded slowly and his smile faded. “I’m glad she decided to stick around – you know, for a while she was talking about moving.”
“Moving? Where?” I hated the way my heart lurched to the side at the thought of her leaving, especially because I hadn’t talked to her in literal years.
Steven shrugged. “I dunno,” he said, raking a hand through his dark red hair. “Arizona or California or somewhere – I don’t think she was being serious, though. I think she just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge, you know? Like, start fresh.”
“Mmn.” It was all I could say. I knew that Lyssa had gotten married young – and recently gotten a divorce, which had gone badly. I also knew that things were far worse than Steven had told me about. It sounded strange, but I just had a feeling that Lyssa had been through hell. It was crazy: I wasn’t exactly Mr. Touchy-Feely, but where Lyssa was concerned, it was like I had a sixth sense.
Baby for Brother’s Best Friend: Brother’s Best Friend Book 1 Page 2
