Page 11 of Poinsettia Lane

“I guess… I do want to know her. We used to be really close, and I have so many questions. I don’t know if I should ask them though.” Everly considers this, realizing that maybe she does want a relationship with her sister. She can’t think of a good reason not to, other than that it triggers her anxiety to think about it. Carrie would tell her to face her scary emotions, and in this situation, Everly supposes that means facing vulnerability and the possibility of opening up to someone who could hurt her.

“There you go.” Frankie nods their head once, a solid confirmation. “It sounds to me like your heart knows what you want, you just gottalisten.”

Everly squints her eyes. Listen? She thought she knew where this conversation was going, but now she’s not so sure. Sometimes Frankie’s logic can be a bit hard to follow.

A slow smile creeps across Frankie’s face, causing Everly to lean away from them in slight alarm.

“Listen to your heart!” they belt out, as they jump up and grab Everly’s hand, pulling her to her feet with them. “When it’s talking to you, listen to your heart, there’s nothing else you can do!”

Frankie spins Everly around on their way to the door, laughing and waving off her accusation that they’resinging the wrong lyrics as they make their way next door for some perfect afternoon book shopping.

CHAPTER FIVE

A COUPLE DAYS later, Everly is pacing the same path over and over around the kitchen island. Addison is scheduled to arrive any minute, and Everly can’t stop circling. Her thoughts, her pacing, her fingers twining around each other; her anxiety is peaking because waiting is the absolute worst. Just as she manages to stop her feet and take a breath, a knock interrupts her frantic mind.

Addison is here, finally. She’s exactly on time, but Everly feels like she’s been waiting for ages. She sucks in a quick breath, throws her shoulders back and pulls the door open wide. Addison looks as though she was giving herself a pep talk the whole way here, and it was only partially successful. Everly honestly doesn’t blame her.

This is uncomfortable.

They walk back into the kitchen together after a quick greeting in the foyer. Their favorite childhood meal, lasagna, is wafting a comfortable garlic and melted cheese aroma through the air as it finishes up in the oven.

“Dinner will be ready in about ten, want anything to drink?” Everly says.

“Yeah that would be great.” Her sister smiles with obvious relief. Alcohol always helps an awkward situation.

“I’ve got wine or we can make cocktails. Rum, vodka, I’ve got some fresh juice, tonic, and simple syrups. I think I have a couple of those frozen daiquiri mixes in the freezer too.” Everly offers while pulling everythingout for her sister to choose from.

“I’ll have a cocktail, I’m not picky. Whatever you’re having is great.”

Everly sets out her ingredients and puts everything together to make her favorite signature cocktail, a Manhattan. She switches it up with bourbon or a dry vermouth here and there, but today she sticks to the traditional recipe.

“Oh wow, that’s good!” Addison raises her eyebrows in surprise. “I might have to steal that recipe.”

“Thanks, it’s my go-to,” Everly replies. “Boozy and delicious.”

They clink glasses and manage to make adequate small talk without too much difficulty or awkwardness, and Everly internally congratulates herself for doing better than the morning she woke Addison up at the hotel. At least this time they’re off to a better start.

When the timer goes off, she pulls the dish out of the oven.

“Lasagna?” Addison asks.

“I thought it might be nice, for old times sake,” Everly answers, now questioning this idea. “Do you still like lasagna?”

“I do.” Addison nods emphatically as if she needs to reiterate this point. “I love it, but I almost never have it anymore. And garlic bread too! Oh it smells so good.”

Everly gets that warm fuzzy feeling inside watching her sister enjoy one of their favorite childhood dishes. It feels right to be eating this together, and Everly is relieved that at least she can do this well enough.

“We always loved this when we were younger,” Everly says.

“I remember,” Addison replies.

The silence lingers for a few moments, and Everly tries to decide how she should proceed. As she’s questioning what she’s supposed to do, she remembers Frankie’s question.

What do you want to do?

“So…” Everly starts, then stops.

Addison looks up at Everly and raises her eyebrows, then nods slowly and gently sets her utensils down next to her plate, folding her hands into her lap.

---