Chapter 7
7
Sybil
“Rise and shine!” The voice cut through my head like a shard of glass, and I cracked one eye open to see my sister standing over me in her guest room. She had the annoying habit of being not only the perfect, high-achieving, career-driven daughter, but also a morning person. Based on the off-key singing emanating from the kitchen, her fiancé, Warren, shared this trait. They had met at the dental office where she was a dentist and he an orthodontist. She said it was in a staff meeting, but I always imagined their eyes meeting over somebody’s root canal and sparks flying. She’d reminded me multiple times that root canals were not romantic and that an orthodontist wouldn’t be present during one, but I liked my version better than the real one. The story of Warren and Grace (Sybil’s version).
“Go away,” I grumbled, turning my face into the pillow and stroking my finger along the high-thread-count fabric under my cheek. “These are really nice,” I said. “And are these feather pillows?”
“It’s time to get up.” She sat on the bed next to me, and I heard ceramic against wood on my nightstand. Well, her nightstand.
“I’m an adult,” I said, swatting at her hand as she tried to coax me from my cotton cocoon.
“Could have fooled me.”
The smell of coffee luring me, I turned slowly to look at my sister. I’d managed to get my own apartment after dropping out of school, but between jobs I couldn’t quite hold on to and, admittedly, bad money management habits, it didn’t last long. The worst part had been how no one was particularly surprised when I’d moved back in with my mom. I’d overheard her telling a friend it was “classic Sybil.” It hadn’t been cruel, derisive, or even sarcastic…just resigned. Her friend Janice had replied, “That girl couldn’t find good luck or good sense at a luck-and-sense sidewalk sale.”
On top of that joke not even making sense, Janice , I’d eagerly awaited my mom’s rebuff, because no one talked about Mary’s babies, but she hadn’t corrected the friend. I’d heard silence before they moved on, but the idea of her nodding in agreement was imprinted on my mind. It was the way she agreed when Janice talked about my dad or her own ex-husband.
“You look awful,” Grace said, handing me the coffee and interrupting my stewing.
“Didn’t you use to be nicer?”
Grace smiled. “I’m still nice. I brought you coffee and let you crash in my guest room.” She patted the bed and stood. “Get up!”
I sipped the coffee and leaned back against the headboard. I hadn’t had enough to drink the night before to have a real hangover, but the lack of sleep made me feel like I had. I could probably thank the donuts and bottles of water from the night before for my relatively clear head, though.
The night before.
I dragged a finger absently over my neck, remembering the donut shop and Kieran’s kisses landing there. It had been amazing until it was mortifying. Thank God something distracted him so I could sneak out. Once my panties were securely back in place, I couldn’t imagine the level of awkwardness that would come with facing him to admit I’d been the donut thief that morning, so I’d scribbled a note, and my ride was blessedly nearby. Shame I couldn’t ever go back there. The donuts were really good. He was really good. I settled back against the wood, and the mug warmed my hands as I allowed myself a few memories of him and the night before. Really good.
My fantasy was interrupted by my sister’s impatient knock on the door frame. “Sybil. C’mon! Mom is expecting us in an hour.”
I slumped back into bed. “Do I have to go?”
“Well, you live there. So, yes, it’s not optional.” She shot me a bored and lovingly disappointed look that only an older sister could give. I half expected her to drop in a “my house, my rules” line, but she didn’t, she just leveled me with a stare. “What time did you get here last night?”
I’d crept in the front door with my shoes off using the key she’d given me. Everyone was gloriously asleep. I’d walked in more than once to hear my sister and her fiancé still at it, and I had been in no mood for that. I mean, all the flowers to my sister for scoring someone with so much stamina and, based on what I overheard, creativity, but is anyone ever in the right headspace to hear a mild-mannered orthodontist tell their sister she’s a good girl after several loud spanks? “Late. I hung out for a while at a donut shop.”
“A donut shop?” Grace’s disappointed expression faded, and she stepped into the room, leaning against the dresser. “Why?”
“The…donuts?” I sipped my coffee and didn’t meet her eyes. She wasn’t a prude or anything, but she’d have thoughts on me hooking up with a random baker after a bad day and a few drinks. I guessed most people would have thoughts about that, but in my defense, he was hot. And sweet. And that tongue…I pulled myself from the memory and met Grace’s gaze again.
She surprised me sometimes, and a giddy smile crossed her face as an eyebrow went up. “Was your guy there?”
I’d told them I met someone without thinking it through. How I planned to casually continue seeing the imaginary man and then also take him to my sister’s wedding, I had no clue. We’d been sitting around the table, Grace with Warren, and Mom with Paul, everyone talking about their jobs and careers, and there I was, shoving food in my mouth with nothing to contribute. I couldn’t manifest a career from the ether, so when the conversation turned to me, I blurted out that I’d met someone and we were taking it very slow. Very slow indeed, considering I forgot about the lie most of the time and it had been two months. Clearly Carl wasn’t going to be the saving grace. “Uh, yeah, he was there for a while.”
Grace waggled her eyebrows. “I can’t believe you won’t tell me anything about him. What does he do? Did you say he looks like that hot actor you pointed out last week?”
Warren poked his head in the door. “Would we call that guy hot?”
“Theo James?” I grinned because Kieran looked nothing like him, but he had those brown eyes and corded muscles. Warren was waiting for a response, and I almost forgot who I was talking about. “He is objectively hot.”
“Absolutely,” Grace said, without looking away from me.
“Fair enough.” Warren shrugged and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Leave in twenty minutes?” He would be sure to be on time—our mother loved this buttoned-up orthodontist as much as either of her actual children. When he stepped back out, Grace’s gaze landed back on me.
She nudged me again. “I was surprised you didn’t stay over at his place,” she said once Warren was out of earshot.
My face heated, and the dull ache in my head made itself known. I mumbled into my mug, “It didn’t get that far. We, uh, we talked for a long time.” And fooled around, though “fooled around” was underselling what had happened. Only by three thousand percent, but still. I squeezed my thighs together instinctively at the memory of Kieran’s mouth. “He’s more traditional than guys I normally see.” Traditionally handsome. Traditionally educated. Traditionally eager to go down on me. “No sleepovers. We’re taking things slow.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, looking away and wishing I hadn’t lied myself into this corner and put my hopes on Carl.
“That’s so unlike you, but great! I hope we can meet him soon.”
“He’s really smart. In medical school, actually.” If I’d had more to drink the night before, I could blame my lie on that, but she’d never meet my donut shop one-night stand, so it really didn’t matter.
“Always good to have another doctor around,” she said, patting my arm. “I’m proud of you for taking your time.” She playfully elbowed me. “And I want to make sure he’s not some kind of serial killer.”
“Wow,” I said with a yawn. “You really don’t have much faith in my choice of men.”
“Well,” she said, tipping her head back and forth. “You have a track record.”
“And he hasn’t murdered me yet.” Well, I might have died for a minute or two there at the end, actually. La petite mort . I settled on the bed, taking another sip of coffee. “Besides, if he took me out, you’d never wake up to find your sister in your guest room again.”
“True. But then, the inevitable trial, true-crime interviews, and Netflix special would eat up a lot of time I need to put toward wedding planning.” Grace slid her long index and middle fingers to drag along her eyebrow, the diamond on her hand catching the light and casting multicolored spots onto the nearby wall. She grinned at me. “But I’m glad you’re taking this one slowly. It’ll be good for you. Change of pace from your normal of going all in right away. But get up. I’ll hear about it all day if we’re late to Mom’s again, and I’m bringing cobbler.”
“You’re not my keeper,” I grumbled, pushing the covers aside and grabbing my phone from the nightstand.
“Tell Mom that!” Grace called over her shoulder, walking back down the hall. My phone chimed, and I saw the group chat light up with a message.
Emi: You’re safe?
Marcus: And $250 million richer?
Sybil: Safe! No hangover so the lucky penny came through. And I lost the ticket. No one ever wins, anyway. It was stupid to drop money on it.
Sighing, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and glanced at the screen. Overnight, two other messages from Carl had come through. One with just another question mark and the second calling me a tease and a bitch. I hit delete with more force than necessary and blocked him. “Screw that guy,” I muttered.
Sure, all I’d ended up with after finding a lucky penny was the donuts, but they were really fantastic donuts. Something else would fall into place soon. It always did.