Page 76 of Common Grounds

She winks. “It worked, I think.”

I turn my head and fake gag into the lasagna as Vi makes a noise of protest. I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t talk about my sister that way.”

Vi chuckles and takes the lasagna from me. I follow her to the kitchen where she sets it on the counter. She opens the fridge to grab three cans of sparkling water and sets them out on the table with plates.

Cass waddles in just as I’m sinking into one of the kitchen chairs. She’s wearing a shirt that has seen better days. It’s stretched almost to breaking over her belly, and she’s paired it with sleep shorts with the waistband folded under. Her hair is significantly less matted than Vi’s as if she had run a comb through it before coming downstairs. But her eyes are rimmed with red, and it’s clear from her dejected posture that she’s not feeling much better at all.

Vi shoots an empathetic glance in Cass’s direction as my sister slumps into the chair next to me. She puts her head in her hands and groans.

“Fuck these hormones,” she bites out. “There is no reason I should be losing it over lasagna.”

I scoot my chair closer to her and wrap an arm around her shoulders. “You’re not losing it over lasagna. You’re losing it over our parents being shitty. I happen to think that’s a valid feeling at a time when having your mom around would be comforting.”

She curls even further into herself, but I hold on to her shoulders. I rest my forehead near her ear. Vi comes over to her other side and makes it a group hug.

“I called her,” Cass whispers. “I couldn’t help it. I thought maybe…” she trails off.

I bristle, but don’t let her go. “Did she answer?”

She shakes her head, then lets out a sob. Vi catches my eye over Cass’s shoulder, a pained look on her face. She looks like she desperately wants to fix this for Cass, so I shake my head. There’s nothing we can do but let her experience these emotions. Though I do believe Vi would leave right now and stand on my parents’ porch to shake some sense into them if she thought it’d work.

It won’t. It just sucks. And all we can do is hold her until it passes.

Cass sniffs a few times, her nose plugged from the crying. “I smell lasagna.” Her voice is tiny and muffled by her hands.

“I made some for you,” I say. “Vi asked me to.”

This sets off another round of sobs as Cass howls, “You’re so nice to me! Why are you so nice to me?”

“Wish I knew,” I tease.

Cass’s shoulders start shaking again, but this time it’s because laughter is bubbling up out of her. “You’re such an asshole,” she says between fits of wet giggles.

“An asshole who made you lasagna,” I point out.

She laughs quietly for a few more seconds before shrugging. “Okay. It’s getting hot under here. And I’m really hungry.”

I give her one last squeeze before Vi and I release her at the same time. Vi starts serving the food, and I slide a can of sparkling water to Cass. She opens it and chugs half of it before letting out a giant belch.

“Sexy,” Vi deadpans as she sets a plate and a fork in front of each of us.

Cass shrugs. “You knew who I was when you married me.”

“Speaking of which,” Vi says as she stabs her slice of lasagna with a fork, “we read your article today.”

I cringe. “What the hell kind of segue was that?” I’ve known Vi a long time, and she’s trying to change the subject. I’m grateful for it, for Cass’s sake, but I can’t let her get away with that monstrosity of a transition.

“In my mind, the transition worked because holy shit, Emery.” Vi takes a bite of her lasagna and chews it with vigor.

“What?” I say around my own mouthful.

Cass levels me with a look. “What happened with Trevor to flip that switch?”

I let out a laugh that is humorless and edged with nerves. “What switch?”

Cass points her fork at me. “That was the best article you’ve written since you left The Gazette. It was all sensory detail and thematic possibilities. It was pulled together. Dare I say, it was hopeful.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “You take that back.”

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