Chapter 4 #2
Though looking around, it’s not clear to me what needs to be cleaned.
The counters are spotless, the copper pots that hang behind the stove are gleaming.
I peer through the doorway across the foyer to the family room and can see that it looks especially tidy too.
The books arranged on the coffee table are at their required ninety-degree angles, and the faded Laura Ashley armchairs are angled toward the fireplace just so.
My mom is quintessentially Southern. She never leaves home without her hair done, her nails painted, and her lipstick on. She has finally, at age sixty-five, begun to loosen her stance on pantyhose at church. My whole life, all I aspired to be was her Mini-Me.
When I was eleven, she started signing me up for pageants.
She drove me to every single one, spent time for weeks ahead prepping my performances, and choreographing my routines, and tailoring my costumes.
Linney, who’s seven years older than me, had zero desire.
She was more interested in running soccer drills in the backyard with Pete.
So it was just me and Mom spending our weekends together—long car rides to neighboring counties, hours spent in dressing rooms. She was always my biggest cheerleader—and also my toughest critic.
As if on cue, she glances up from the vase of flowers and says, “You’re going to fix your hair too, right?”
Back outside, I pop open the trunk of the Jeep to grab my bags. I’m rolling them through the kitchen as I hear Cooper’s beat-up old Bronco pull into the driveway.
I’m standing in the foyer, about to duck into the powder room to change my top, when I’m grabbed from behind, right at the ticklish part of my waist.
“Cooper!” I shriek, wriggling out of his grasp.
When I turn around, he’s standing with arms wide for a hug, but then makes a big show of pulling back away from me. “Did the Creature from the Black Lagoon throw up on you?”
“Ha ha.”
The door creaks open, then slams with a familiar thwack.
Cooper and I turn to see Pete and Linney making their way inside, and for a second, it’s like old times.
Like we’ve just made teams for badminton or capture the flag.
Me and Cooper on one side, Pete and Linney on the other.
Sometimes it was boys against girls, but more often than not, it was the two of us against the twins.
The fact that they were seven years older than me and ten years older than Cooper never seemed to factor in.
We head into the family room, my clothing change forgotten. Linney and Pete claim the floral armchairs while Cooper and I flop down on the L-shaped couch, sinking into the soft, worn cushions.
As I settle back, my eyes snag on a watercolor of the lake in a pale driftwood frame. In the painting, the water is all loose blue washes and green shadows, the sky bleeding pink into gold the way it does right before sunset.
“Wait,” I say, sitting up. “Is that new?”
Linney groans instantly. “Oh my god.”
Pete snorts. “New? Nikki, that’s been there for, like, a year.”
“At least,” Cooper adds. “Possibly longer.”
I wrinkle my nose. “It has not. When did Mom start painting again?”
Linney shoots me a look. “Maybe if you came home more than once a year, you’d know.”
The words sting more than I expect. Because she’s not wrong.
I was here briefly last Christmas, but before that…
I have to mentally count backward. Two years?
It’s been over two years since I’ve spent a summer week at the lake.
A sharp flicker of guilt cuts through me, quickly followed by the familiar defense—I was busy.
I was launching my athleisure line, trying to rebuild my personal brand after the LovedBy scandal…
Still, I don’t like the feeling that I’ve missed out on life at home. My mom used to dabble in watercolors when I was a kid, but as far as I knew, she hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in years. What will I learn next—that eight-year-old William has taken up astrophysics?
“So Coop, where’s the girlfriend?” Linney asks, changing the subject.
“She dump you already?” Linney curls her legs up under her.
She’s in cutoff jeans and a simple white T, her dark hair pulled up in a claw clip.
Even in her late thirties, she still has that effortlessly cool vibe I remember from her teenage years.
As far as sisters go, Linney and I are pretty different, but I’ve always admired her confidence.
Linney knows exactly who she is, and is unapologetic about it.
Much to Mom’s frequent exasperation. Jacqueline, would you please wear a dress, just this once?
was a common refrain on Easter mornings before church.
“She’s in the car, wrapping up a phone call.” Cooper leans back and makes to put his feet on the reclaimed-wood coffee table.
I elbow him. “Don’t. Mom’s been cleaning like crazy.”
“You left your girlfriend in the car?” Pete asks. “Hope you left the windows cracked,” he adds with a smirk. When Cooper was six, he accidentally left his pet salamander in the car on the hottest day of the year. The results were messy, to say the least.
“Shoot.” Cooper snaps. “I knew I forgot something. Speaking of which”—he turns back to Linney—“shouldn’t you have two mini appendages hanging off you? Did you forget to bring them?”
“Anna Carol’s playing dress-up in Nikki’s room, and William’s torturing his favorite uncle with a Super Soaker.”
“Ouch,” Cooper says, throwing a glance to Pete. “Did Tripp really usurp the Favorite Uncle title from me?”
Pete nods. “Afraid so.”
“I’ll have to work on gaining it back this weekend. Quick question, Lin, what’s your stance on puppies?”
“Don’t you dare,” Linney warns.
“Well, I probably can’t win him over with jewelry,” Cooper says, “which is my plan for Anna Carol.”
I snort a laugh. “You? Jewelry? Maybe you should ask your girlfriend for some help with that one—we don’t want another Jessie Johnson on our hands.” Cooper once gifted his high school girlfriend an antique duck brooch.
A strange silence falls over my siblings. Pete and Linney exchange a look, an entire conversation passing silently between them.
“What?” I ask, looking from them to Cooper. “Oh my gosh, wait—
is Jessie Johnson your new girlfriend?”
“No, she—”
A woman appears in the family room. “Hey, y’all,” she says softly.
I blink twice, trying to refocus. Certain I must be seeing something wrong.
She has perfect golden-blond waves and an adorable sprinkle of freckles. From her neck hangs a chain, three stylized strawberry leaves in yellow gold… She looks exactly like the girl Aaron left me for on LovedBy. Exactly like—
“Cara!” my mom exclaims, walking into the room and pulling her into a warm hug.
Cara Lancolm.