CHAPTER 5
––––––––
Rachel
Rachel stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. Gripping her long brown hair, she wrung it dry with a squeeze of each fist. “I’m exhausted,” she muttered to her foggy reflection in the mirror. Dragging the bristles through the wet strands, she released a heavy sigh.
I’d do anything to skip the family dinner tonight and just go to bed.
Her back ached from the hours spent standing in heels. Massaging her jaw from the endless smiles only an open house required, she leaned over the counter in search of the ibuprofen. “Oh, come on,” she grumbled and pawed through the basket of toiletries.
Gripping a small white container, she breathed out a sigh of relief—until the Zyrtec label looked back. Her heart sank as the little white pills collided with the plastic. Each rattle was a reminder of Ian and the time they spent together outdoors in the throes of allergy season.
Rachel swallowed the sudden sorrow building in her raw, scratchy throat. Her towel fell to her feet. “Ian,” she whispered and closed her eyes.
His geeky fun facts and love for the solar system washed over her, softening her heart at the recall of his body snuggled beside hers next to a campfire all summer. Rachel hung her head, and the first tear escaped, slowly trickling down her cheek.
She snatched at her towel with a sniffle and filled a cup with tap water to the brim. Chugging the lukewarm liquid, Rachel eyed her phone as it pinged with a text message. And guilt instantly replaced the sorrow souring her stomach.
Still no calamari to be had, she read. Guess that means I’ll need to cook you dinner again. Are you free tomorrow night?
Groaning at Miguel’s sweet invitation, Rachel cringed and swiped a hand across the foggy mirror to reveal her guilt-ridden reflection.
I kissed you this morning. And I threw myself at you last night...
“Ugh, Miguel,” she whispered. “There’s no way you want to date me. I’m such a mess.”
But the memory of his warm fingers threading through hers returned. His comforting, easy-to-be-around presence held a piece of her crumbling heart.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I was just crying over another man less than a minute ago!
Rachel rolled her eyes at her endless flood of conflicting emotions as another text message arrived. Peering at the screen, she huffed out a breath of relief as her sister’s name appeared. She read, Have you left for mom’s yet?
Rachel lowered her gaze to her towel-clad body. Not even close, she typed and hit send.
A second passed before her phone rang. Rose’s name scrolled across her screen.
“What’s up?” Rachel mopped up the remains of tears.
“Are you okay?”
You know me better than I give you credit for, big sis.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied.
“Your voice sounds funny.”
Rachel snorted. “I’ve been at an open house all day talking to every home buyer under the sun. My throat hurts.”
Not a total lie.
“Hmm, okay.”
“What do you need? I just got out of the shower and am running a few minutes late.” Tapping the speaker icon, Rachel set her phone on the counter and pulled her wet hair up into a messy bun.
“Can you pick up a head of garlic on your way over?” asked Rose. “I thought I grabbed one, but now I can’t find it.”
Rachel rubbed moisturizer on her face. “Sure. Be there in about thirty minutes, okay?”
“Thanks. See you soon!”
The call ended and silence returned to the bathroom until another text interrupted the quiet.
Hope your open house went well today, Sunshine. A kissing face emoji followed Miguel’s latest note.
Tearing her gaze away from the text, Rachel stared at the Zyrtec bottle across the counter.
Ugh.
––––––––
Nearly an hour later, Rachel pushed the front door open to her childhood home and the immediate scent of frying onions impaled her.
Eww.
“There you are! What took you so freaking long?” Rose stomped into the foyer and snatched the plastic bag of garlic from Rachel’s fingers.
“It’s not my fault. There was a huge line at Trader Joe’s.” Frowning as Rose scoffed and stepped away, Rachel slipped off her sandals on the mat. “You’re welcome,” she mumbled and eyed her sister’s long ponytail as it whipped around the corner and back into her mom’s kitchen.
A whoop echoed from the dining room. Following the cheers of celebration, she turned the corner, only to catch the tail end of her brother’s enthusiastic kiss with Tess.
“What’re we celebrating?” Rachel sank into the empty seat between her mom, Rita, and her soon-to-be brother-in-law, Cole. She squeezed her eyes closed and willed the growing headache and sudden body aches away.
“A Leather of Love just picked up their first property,” cooed Rita.
“Oh, my God! You guys!” Rachel jumped from her seat and wrapped her arms around Tess and Ryan. “Congratulations!” she bellowed and tightened her embrace until Ryan groaned and Tess giggled. “Come on, show me! What’s the house? Where is it?”
Tess’s eyes teared, sparkling beneath the ancient dining room light fixture. “I can’t believe it, Rach!” She gripped the laptop screen and angled it lower. “Look, it’s this sweet little fixer-upper in Glendale.”
Rachel scrolled through the listing, quickly taking in the details of the purchase. “Not bad,” she whispered and sank to her knees between them. “This looks like a great investment... good bones and structure... and a really nice neighborhood, too.” Tapping each photo, Rachel enlarged the images with a practiced flick of her fingers. “Definitely a lot of potential here,” she added as Tess leaned in.
“We never would have been able to get this far without you.”
“She’s right. We owe you, Rach,” added Ryan.
Her headache disappeared, the cure seemingly a string of sweet compliments. Smiling at the momentous moment for her family, Rachel snickered. “Oh, stop! You guys did this on your own.”
“Not true!” Tess swatted her arm. “You helped me every step of the way in getting my license. Not to mention your support and encouragement since day one.”
“And the LLC,” said Ryan.
“That was Ian.” Her stomach clenched as his name easily slipped from her lips. His name was like a sucker punch to the gut. She sighed and shook her head. “Umm, and Cole.”
From across the table, he grinned. “Hardly, Rachel Ray.” Cole dragged a hand through his short blond hair. “All I did was design a logo.”
I guess Ian did most of the work then.
“Dinner in ten!” Rose’s sing-song voice echoed from the kitchen.
Cole stood and started collecting empty cups and appetizer plates like a Pavlovian trained puppy.
With a wink, he stretched his arm across the surface and tugged a fork from Rita’s hand. “Don’t be silly, I got it.” He tapped her empty wine glass before leaning back. “Refill, Rita?”
“Always a gentleman.” She grinned but nodded.
“Oh!” Rachel forced her knees from the floor while each muscle screamed in protest. “Mom, I brought a bottle of sauvignon blanc. It’s a new kind. I had it at Pier Ninety-Two the other night, and I think you’ll really like it.”
Her belly flip-flopped at the mention of Pier Ninety-Two. Miguel’s unanswered text rested in her back pocket. She frowned before catching Ryan’s eye beside her.
Rita shrugged. “Sure, sounds lovely, sweetie.”
“Where is it, Rach?” asked Cole.
“In my bag.”
Ryan pointed toward the front door and stood. “I got it, dude. You’ve got your hands full.” Gripping Rachel’s elbow, he tugged. “Come on. Help me get it.”
Umm, okay. Kind of a single-person job, but whatever.
Tailing her brother out of the dining room, Rachel shadowed his steps to the foyer.
“It’s just in my bag,” she muttered and pointed to the burlap sack on the floor by her shoes.
“Are you okay?” Ryan stopped short of the front door, and Rachel plowed into him before stumbling over his big feet.
“Ry! What the hell?” She gripped his forearm and steadied herself.
“Er, sorry.”
Rolling her eyes, she regained her balance. “What’re you doing?”
“Nothing. You just seemed weird. I wanted to check on you.”
With a snort, Rachel tilted her head. “When did the tables turn, huh?”
Ryan lifted his right hand and cupped the back of his neck—a classic sign of his discomfort. “I’m not turning any tables,” he mumbled and dropped his hand. “You just seemed off.”
Rachel pressed a palm to her warm forehead and sighed. “I’m just really tired. I’ve been at an open house all day, and—”
“It’s Ian, isn’t it?” Ryan blurted.
“What?”
How the fuck do you know me so well?
“Your face fell the second his name came up in there.”
Rachel groaned. “Ugh, what do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“No, I don’t,” she snapped.
“Look, Rach, I just wanted to check on you.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “I’m not trying to piss you off.”
With another heavy sigh, the growing tension in her muscles melted. “I’m sorry. I’m really tired. It’s been a long day and...” Her voice trailed away as she tucked a few escaped strands of hair behind her ears. “I’m just not sure what I should do next.”
I’m such a mess.
“Do next?” Ryan wrinkled his nose.
She folded her arms across her chest and dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Like with your job? Or, ah, dating?” Ryan banged his elbow into hers and her arms fell. “Help me out here.”
An uncontrollable burst of laughter bubbled from her gut. The thought of seeking out dating advice from her brother was more unlikely than taking Tess on a camping trip again.
“Knock it off!” He chuckled. “I’m just trying to help!”
The breath returned to her lungs as a blanket of heat warmed her body. Running her index fingers beneath her eyes, she swiped at the tears of amusement. “No, I know you are.” She giggled again and snuggled into his embrace. “Thank you,” she whispered and closed her eyes.
“I didn’t do anything.”
She laughed again as she savored the comfort of her brother’s hug. “No, you did. Thank you for checking on me.”
“You didn’t answer me though.”
Rachel pulled away. “The truth?”
He nodded as cutlery and dinner plates clanked in the dining room.
“I’m trying to get over Ian. I, ah, did meet someone new,” she admitted, and her heart fluttered. “He’s sweet and kind, and really easy to be around.” With a tiny snort, she smiled. “And he loves emo music.” Rachel giggled at the memory of their shared car ride. “Oh, and he’s my neighbor, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, kiddy-corner to my backyard. The white house with the hot tub.”
Pressing his lips together, he eyed the ceiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone out there.”
“He works a lot.”
“Where?”
She snickered. “You won’t believe this. But he’s the new owner of Pier Ninety-Two. He’s the one Lauren sold the restaurant to.”
“Wait, what?”
“Weird coincidence, right?”
“Yeah, it is. How’d you meet him?”
Rachel groaned. “That’s the embarrassing part.”
“It’s just me.”
With a shrug, she eyed Rose and Cole over her brother’s shoulder as they carried the meal from the kitchen and into the dining room.
“I tried online dating again. And I met—”
“You met him online?” Ryan frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Like it would have been so bad if I did?
“No. Just listen. I met a guy online and he asked me out on a date. I agreed and he stood me up at Pier Ninety-Two.”
“So, instead you met—”
“Miguel Rodriguez. Again.” Rachel giggled. “We actually met before—”
“Then what’s your problem?” Ryan interrupted. “You seem like you like him.”
“The problem.” She scoffed. “Is that...”
The energy of the conversation fizzled as the truth danced on the tip of her tongue.
Ian.
Ryan swallowed and shook his head. “You’ve got to get over him, Rach. You don’t really have a choice here.”
She groaned again and dropped her face into her palms. “Don’t you think I know that?”
“I get that it’s easier said than done.” Ryan reached and grasped her shoulder. “Look, I’m not trying to sound insensitive, but—”
“Then don’t!” Her cheeks flushed, summoning the headache to re-attack her brain. Pulling away, she cringed. “Just stop. I know what I need to do, all right?”
He shuffled his bare feet over the worn, brown carpet. “You always push me, so I’m gonna push you back.” His gaze sought hers. “Did you not hear me at the bar the other night?” With a sigh, he dragged his fingers through his hair. “What happened to prioritizing yourself?”
“What?” She snorted and returned her arms to crisscross over her chest. “I am. I’m trying my darndest to get over Ian and find someone new.”
“By dating online douchebags?”
“Well, yeah! How else am I supposed to meet someone?”
“Rach, you really were not listening to me.”
She blanched.
“When I said prioritize yourself, I didn’t mean jump straight into a new relationship. And I really didn’t mean online dating.”
“I don’t understand, then.”
Ryan shook his head. “I meant that maybe losing Ian was a sign to just do you. Date yourself. Focus on your career. Adopt a cat. Take a class. Find a new hobby—”
Rachel laughed. “A hobby?”
“Yeah.”
“What, like glass blowing?”
His lips twisted into a grin. “Whatever floats your boat, sis.”
She giggled as the image of her home suddenly appeared with decorative homemade, glass-blown vases in every corner.
“I just mean,” he added, “focus on yourself for a little while. I did after Vicky—” He swallowed and closed his eyes. “Trust me. Time for myself helped.”
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket once more as Rose poked her head out of the dining room with a scowl. “Your dinner is getting cold!” she snapped.
“What’s her problem?” Rachel muttered.
“I don’t know. I overheard her talking to mom when I got here. Sounds like something is happening at her restaurant, and whatever it is, it’s getting under her skin.”
With a nod, Rachel leaned into another hug and squeezed.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“I suppose,” she answered and tugged him toward the dining room.
Well Ryan, you’ve definitely given me something to think about. Again.
Her phone buzzed for a second time in her pocket, but with a smile, she sank into her seat at the dinner table beside her mom and inhaled the scents of her sister’s home cooked meal.
Prioritize myself. Well, I can try and do that.
She stuffed the first bite in her mouth and chewed, oblivious to the conversation taking place around her. Garlic melted on her tongue, each bit of salt teasing her taste buds.
Ian’s face returned to haunt her heart, his signature ability to spew endless facts echoing in her ears. She swallowed another bite and inhaled, picturing the distaste contorting his face at any suggestion of a night out with friends.
As she gulped down a large sip of white wine, her belly twinged.
We had practically nothing in common. I know that. Just what was it then that made me fall for you the way that I did?
Nausea stirred in her gut. Closing her eyes, Rachel returned the wine glass to the table and sucked in a deep breath.
You weren’t easy to be with. You didn’t vibe with my family, and you really didn’t like Ryan.
Opening her eyes, Ryan’s identical brown stare looked back from across the table.
“Are you okay?” he mouthed.
Heat descended on her body, rapidly coating her forehead in a layer of thick sweat.
I just wanted us to work so badly. I’m sick of being the third wheel.
Her vision blurred, darkening at the corners as a roar sounded in her ears.
Maybe it isn’t really you that I miss, Ian.
The garlic slowly inched up her throat, burning its way along her esophagus on its bid for freedom.
I just miss the chance you gave me at finding true love.
As the truth struck her heart, her body lurched, and Rachel bolted for the hallway bathroom. And Ian’s face was the last thing on her mind before Rose’s home-cooked meal greeted the toilet.