Page 119 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls
And Skye.
Celene watched her sister’s head bob, hand steadily stroking the bunny’s fur against the grain. “Thanks for speaking up for me at the hospital.”
Elise snorted, blinking rapidly. Since when had she slept with her eyes open? Rubbing over her disheveled hair, Elise yawned. “Byron was being a dick.”
“He was.”
“I meant it, though. The summer home’s better, more than it’d been when we were kids. Byron and those damn eagles...”
Celene switched sides to bear Theo’s weight, laughing. “I kept the least tacky eagles. Call me sentimental.”
“I wouldn’t call youthat.” Tossing the bunny into a woven bin of other stuffies, Elise went on. “I think Dad’s too hung up on the past. He wouldn’t have done a good job on the house if he’d orchestrated everything. Your uh, limited sentimentality resulted in major upgrades. Kudos.”
“Fiona and Isolde scampering around the yard and deck...” Blurry imagery of yesteryear played in Celene’s mind. Probably the way it did for her frustrating father. “They kind of resemble us.”
“We didn’t scamper much.”
“Not as much as Don’s girls, no.”
“Those girls could find a way onto the roof if left unsupervised,” Elise commented, her smile touched by the nightlight’s glow. “I get what you mean, though. Damn, maybe you’re more tender at your advanced age.”
The chasm between their ages was an unimpressive two years. Celene shrugged her off, walking the outline of the lion-shaped rug in the center of the room. “Do you—” She posed her question with direct eye contact. “Do you really think I hate our family?”
Elise stilled in the dimness, as if it’d give her invisibility. When Celene waited, patting at Theo’s back, she finally said, “No, but I don’t think you like us, either.”
“Hm.” Celene considered this. Not for long, though. “I like you.”
“Celene.” Skeptical, clearly.
“Yes, you’re just tiring. I’m expected to be on-call for everything, to fix issues that have nothing to do with me. And Dad’s not the only one who weaponizes my singleness against me.”
“You’re not single anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Fair, okay.” Her nestlike hair got fluffed by hand. It cast a bizarre shadow in the blueish night light—a stringy, lopsided creature. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re miserable. I’m a little jealous, alright? For a year, you could escape to a mountain range and return enlightened and refreshed while Big J and I battled in-laws about the wedding budget.”
Theo nuzzled into Celene’s neck, his nose tickling her skin. “Without escaping, I’dbemiserable.”
“We worry about you.”
She shook her head, not falling for this affectionate angle. “Because I was alone?”
“Well, yeah. Alone, heartbroken, angry...” Elise shot her arms up as she often did, dramatics never far from her. “You were angry, Celene. I won’t lie.”
Celene paced, nodding in quiet accordance. “Theo’s asleep.”
“I’ll text Shanice,” Elise murmured, cursing when her phone’s bright screen nearly blinded her. “A bedtime past 10 p.m. We are not good at this.”
“You’ll get used to it, if you decide to push out a little Vale-Mehta.” Celene chose to wander around the nursery a while longer. As she passed burnished cubbies holding wooden toys, she allowed herself to dwell. On if a hefty baby’s warmth and quick heartbeat against her chest felt like something worth the hours of chaos, effectively turning her peaceful life upside down. Then, she mentally closed the portal to such Dragonfruit-like thinking. Too soon.
“Shanice says thanks. Dad’s sleeping, too.”
Celene nodded as acknowledgement, staying put, even after Elise took her leave down the hall, the warm light from the kitchen showing under the seam of the door. Regardless of any of these life stages she’d been pressured on since she’d been born, she would take her responsibilities as a big sister seriously. Theodore Vale deserved that much.
About twenty minutes later, she put Theo to bed, double-checked the room’s thermostat and baby cam position according to Shanice’s missive. She padded out to the kitchen, finding no Elise. An empty coffee mug and a granola bar wrapper stood as evidence on the table. It tempted Celene to brew tea, though her curiosity got the best of her. She followed the only other light on, from Byron and Shanice’s large walk-in closet.
“Shh—I’m on a mission,” Elise hissed, waving Celene over.
