Seven Years Ago
“Stop avoiding the question,” I say, watching Rohan center and hang the wreath over the bakery window. “Also, please stop wearing that hat. It makes you look like a seventy-year-old man.”
We’ve spent the past two hours putting up a Christmas tree and ornaments–mainly in the shapes of various dogs–along with affixing a festive garland to the front of the bar and cashier stand. Rohan also wrapped some lights around the trees in the backyard, and my entire bakery feels transformed for the holiday season. And in classic Rohan form, he went through an entire fire safety checklist to ensure everything I did myself met his approval.
Getting off the step stool, he tilts his hat to the side to be extra annoying. “I’ve gotten a lot of chicks wearing this hat. And I’m not avoiding any questions.”
I roll my eyes. “The only chick I’m asking about is Samantha, and clearly, she hasn’t seen you in it because she would have changed her mind about you.” I giggle when he throws me a dirty look. “Now, are you going to tell me or not? Are you guys getting serious?”
Over the past six months, Rohan has been seeing a fellow firefighter named Samantha. And though he’s always tight-lipped about his love life–even with me–Samantha and I have gotten to know each other better. She comes into the café almost as regularly as Rohan and Dean, so we’ve become good friends over time.
She’s a great girl–sweet, supportive, and most importantly, she’s absolutely gaga over my brother. She even confessed to me that she’s liked him since her first day at the fire station, but my bullheaded big brother refused to make a move on her for almost a year and a half, claiming it would make things too complicated to date a coworker. Dufus.
Rohan examines the mess on the floor–open plastic wrap and some glitter that’s fallen from a few of the decorations. After grabbing the plastic and throwing it into the trash, he jaunts over to where I keep the vacuum before plugging it in. The man does everything like he’s on a mission and following orders.
“You’re right; she hasn’t seen me wearing this hat.” He smirks mischievously. “Lately, she hasn’t seen me wearing anything at all . . .”
“Ew.” I wrinkle my nose, trying not to vomit inside my mouth at the unwelcomed visual. “That’s not what I asked, you monster. I’m going to have to wash my brain with bleach now. Thanks for that.”
Rohan points at me accusingly. “Suits you right. It’s the only way to get you off my back about my love life. Next time you ask, be ready for a more detailed account.”
“Jerk,” I mumble, placing the new reindeer dog treats I made inside the glass pastry case.
“I heard that,” Rohan bellows over the din from the vacuum.
While the café had an incredible reception when I first opened, it took a little while for me to get the hang of everything from operations and budgets to promotions and advertising. I’m still running a mainly word-of-mouth business, but business has boomed over the past year. Not only do I have regular customers, but I’ve also had to open a small catering business on the side due to the overwhelming demand.
The extra profits have allowed me to hire reliable staff as well, so I can take some time off when needed. A year and a half ago, I hired Betty, an older lady who is my second-in-command store manager and baker, and Max, my full-time barista and cashier. The extra hands have been a boon for my sanity.
I’m in the back, emptying bags of sugar into a large container when the double doors open and Rohan peeks inside. “Need anything else, munch? I was going to take the trash, then head out.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Oh yeah? Another hot date with Samantha?”
My brother raises a brow. “The hottest. I’m planning on having her get on her knees, and–”
I place my palms on my ears as fast as I can. “No! Ew! Okay, okay! I’ll stop asking. Now get out of here and never, ever come back, you lunatic!” I hold back a smile as I drop my hands. My brother gives me a self-satisfied grin. “You’re the worst.”
“You love me.”
I roll my eyes. “Barely.” I pause, giving him my doe-eyed look–the one that usually softens him up so he can actually listen. “Is it really so bad to admit you guys are getting serious? I’d only be excited for you. I want you to be happy, Ro.”
Rohan gives me an exasperated look, relenting. “Fine. Yes.” He takes off that god-awful hat and runs a hand through his hair. “Yes, things are getting serious, but . . . I also don’t want to rush anything. I’m okay with taking things slow.”
I nod. “Is that why you told her you couldn’t spend Christmas with her and her family in Sacramento? Because you’re taking things slow?”
“Jesus.” He pinches the bridge of his nose after rubbing his eyes. “Of course, she told you.”
“You know we’re friends, and besides, I really like her for you. Now, stop dodging. Is that why you aren’t spending Christmas with her?”
He scoffs, his gaze a little shifty. “Why else wouldn’t I? Plus, I’m only getting a couple of days off.” He gives me a lopsided grin. “I’d much rather spend that time with my nosey and annoying-as-fuck little sister.”
And there it is.
That glint of guilt in his eyes. The bob of his throat as he swallows through the pain that’s always ready to surface, no matter how deep we’ve both tried to drive it down. Because it wasn’t just me who lost two vital parts of my life that day; it was him, too.
My throat tightens, recognizing the lie he’s not only telling me, but the lie he’s willing to believe himself. He’s always been this way.
Maybe it has to do with the fact that we have a ten-year age difference, or that he’s had to raise me since I was ten, or that he still feels a sense of guardianship over me. No matter the reason, my brother has always put my needs and wants over his own.