Page 16 of Someone Just Like You

And so it went. Jude and I continued our reindeer games. When I produced the sound of human flatulence from sitting on the whoopee cushion Jude had snuck onto my chair at The Writing Room, he declared with a straight face, “Better loud and proud than silent but deadly, right, Mole?” At Allora, I switched out the restaurant’s ball point with a “trick” pen I’d made with the help of a YouTube video and laughed as the ink leaked all over Jude’s hand.

It was as if, by unspoken agreement, we stopped trying to outsmart each other, and instead lowered our emotional age by about fifteen years. Two weeks later, we had quite possibly been banned from more than one restaurant, but the favorites bar on my computer was loaded with pages and pages of practical jokes and pranks. I had enough ideas to last me through the party and beyond.

And then Nicole scheduled The Call.

It was a mandatory video call for the six Blum and Stark siblings with only one item on the agenda: the party. Unfortunately, the only time we were all available that week was Saturday at seven o’clock—in the morning.

I set my alarm for 6:27 and snoozed twice before dragging my ass out of bed at 6:45. After pairing a bra and hot pink exercise tank with my pajama shorts—no one would see below my waist anyway—I smoothed my hair into a ponytail and applied skin-brightening moisturizer and slightly tinted gloss to my face and lips respectively. Then I made a cup of coffee, got settled on my beige fabric couch, and joined the Zoom meeting at exactly 6:59.

Nicole was already there, wearing a floral bathing suit coverup and a smile too bright for a pre-breakfast meeting. Next came Eddie. He wore a sweat-stained t-shirt and held a bottle of Gatorade like he’d just finished a workout. Then Jude appeared. Based on the indentations from his pillow still on his face, he had just woken up. Yogi lay across his chest like a blanket. Alison, who was showered, made up, and ready for business, had set up her computer by her kidney-shaped pool. Michelle was last and connected only by audio. This was against Nicole’s “rules,” but according to Michelle, rules didn’t apply to oldest sisters.

After a few minutes of awkward greetings and talking over each other, Nicole called the meeting to order. “Status update: We’ve set the date for October twenty-first. Considering how much trouble we had scheduling this call, choosing a date for the party so efficiently is something worth celebrating.”

Eddie and I clapped on camera while Michelle sang, “Applause. Applause,” behind a black screen.

Nicole bowed as if solely responsible for this accomplishment. “Alison ordered beautiful invitations.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Alison said as Dana, her wife, leaned over her shoulder and poured from a bottle of La Marca prosecco into her glass of orange juice.

Once we said a collective hello to Dana, Nicole continued. “Michelle is almost finished compiling addresses for all the guests, Eddie found a photographer, and I met with the florist. We’re going to re-create both sets of parents’ bridal bouquets. Which leaves one item…and it’s a doozy.” She made her angry face—which I hoped she’d improve if she ever had children, because it was currently more likely to elicit giggles than fear—at one of us…or possibly all of us. It was hard to tell with Zoom. “We don’t have a venue.”

Two of us.I glanced at Jude to gauge his reaction. He was roughhousing with Yogi and…oh my God…that dog. I was besotted. Too bad the cutest dog had the meanest man on the planet as his human daddy.

“What do you have to say for yourselves, Molly and Jude?” Nicole asked.

Michelle’s voice piped in. “This is about the juniors? I don’t need to be on this call. Later.” She left the meeting before anyone could argue.

“Juniors? Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Eddie chuckled.

Nicole huffed. “Yes,juniors. You hate when we treat you like children, then stop acting like children!”

“I never said I hated it.” Jude laughed as Yogi licked his face. Between licks, he said, “It’s not our fault you gave us the hardest job.”

Nicole said, “This isn’t like you, Molly. I’d think you’d be the first person to complete your assigned task, especially since the party is for Mom and Dad.” Her lips pinched together in frustration.

“Jude’s distracting her,” Eddie said as his two-year-old son, Miles, a chubby, angel-faced boy, crawled onto his lap mumbling, “Dada.”

Jude scowled. “Because it’s always my fault, right? Mollyanna couldn’t possibly be led astray without my influence.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is. The point is, we need a venue,” Eddie said.

“If you can’t handle it, don’t worry about it,” Nicole said. “We can take over.”

It was classic reverse psychology, and it worked…on me anyhow. Nicole and Eddie should have known better than to pair us together, but wewerebehaving like children. Without a venue, there was no party. If our parents didn’t get the celebration they deserved, it would be our fault…myfault.

“You’ll still beinvitedto the party, of course,” Nicole confirmed. “And we’ll just tell everyone you helped.”

“Jude should be used to this,” Alison said.

I set my mug on the table. “No! I want to be part of the planning. We can handle it. Right, Jude?”

“Hmmm?” His attention remained on Yogi.

I answered for him. “We’ll get it done.” I instantly regretted my phrasing but hoped no one would pick up on it.

Eddie wolf-whistled. “Molly and Jude getting it done.”

Nicole giggled. “Cover your stump before you hump.”

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