14. The Geminis
the geminis
Deirdre
Scar
Good morning, birthday girl.
I’m sorry that you’re a Gemini. Happy birthday, though!
Thanks, asshole. What’s your sign since you’re talking shit?
Scar
I love when you talk dirty to me.
I’m a Cancer. No slander allowed.
You’re crybabies.
Scar
Are we crybabies or just in tune with our emotions?
Speaking of crying, you’ve got surprises waiting.
If you took the day off from irritating me, I’d cry tears of joy.
Scar
You’d miss me if I took a day off. But you’ll see!
We shall see. You didn’t have to get me anything.
Scar
I’m not arguing with you, Deirdre.
Go brush your teeth. We’ll talk when you get out of bed.
*huffs hot breath through the phone*
Scar
You might as well speak at my funeral.
Bye, Scar.
I roll out of bed and start my morning routine of showering, skincare, and styling my hair. Even though I don’t plan to leave the house for anything other than redeeming my hoard of birthday coupons from restaurants and local stores, it doesn’t mean that I can’t do that while also looking cute.
They say when you look good, you feel good, and I’d like to see if there’s any truth to that since I haven’t been feeling too great lately.
My back has been aching terribly for the past few days.
I’ve been disinterested in reading, cooking, Pilates, and even self-care, which are usually things I look forward to.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have been able to convince myself to leave the bed if it weren’t for work. So when I checked my period tracker app the other day, sure enough I was predicted to start my menstrual cycle within the next few days.
Unfortunately, my period being on the horizon makes my PMDD—otherwise known as Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder—rear its ugly head, making my life hell on earth while I wait for the dreaded cycle to begin.
I have the absolute pleasure of being diagnosed with both PCOS and PMDD. Meaning on top of having excessive hair growth, infertility struggles, and irregular bleeding, my periods last longer than normal.
Oftentimes, I should be out of commission for the first few days, but I refuse to sit at home and would hate for my family to do one of their unannounced drop ins during a time where I’ve called out. So, I power on thanks to over-the-counter pain relievers, comfort food, and lunch break naps.
I know it’s ridiculous, especially since I fought against my relatives on the board for all Divin employees who menstruate to have paid menstrual leave and won.
All for this to be an employee benefit that I don’t even allow myself to indulge in simply because I feel guilty for taking time away from work.
As if a day or two off would set me too far back on my dreams for the company’s future.
After my shower, I throw on some comfy lounge clothes and plop back into bed while I snap screenshots of all the special birthday discounts I need to use today.
On the menu are free coffee, ice cream, donuts, desserts, and other sweets.
I’d really love a cake, but I don’t see the point in picking one up without having anyone to share it with.
Armed with an organized list of businesses who offer birthday freebies, I gather my things and head out.
While I’m running around, my phone is bombarded with texts and voice messages from my family and friends, wishing me a happy birthday. That’s something I actually love about this day. No matter how unseen I feel at times, this is a day I can always count on to be reminded of who’s thinking of me.
I return home, needing to make multiple trips to ensure I don’t drop anything on the way to the front door.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized I deserve to indulge in my craving, so I grabbed a small marble cake.
What’s the point of all this free ice cream I got if there’s no cake to pair it with?
I sit at the island with a fork to dig into it and reach for my phone to dial my brother. And in true twin fashion, his name pops up on my screen with an incoming FaceTime call. I swipe to answer, prop my phone against the empty cake lid, and wait for the call to connect.
He appears on the screen with a lazy smile and red-rimmed eyes barely open. High indeed. A definite perk of working around our marijuana farms upstate.
“Happy birthday, Sis.”
“Happy birthday, punk,” I say with a chuckle, pointing at him with my fork. “I see you’ve already been celebrating.”
“Damn right. Did you get the package I sent the other day? Wanted you to try some new hybrid strains we’ve been working on.”
“Mmhm,” I hum while my mouth is full.
“I want some cake,” he whines, making a pouty face.
He’s so childlike when he’s high, reminds me of when we were kids and didn’t have to be so serious all the time. I miss those days.
“Have one of your little girlfriends buy you one,” I tease, using my fork to cut another piece before bringing it to my mouth. I close my eyes to emphasize how delicious it is, laughing when I open them again.
He chuckles. “Maybe I will. You sound like mom, by the way. Remember when she used to say she ain’t one of our little friends,” he recites, mocking her voice.
I cackle, staring down at my plate. “Look at her now. She tries real hard to be one of our little friends.”
“Be all in our business like she is a little friend,” he continues, and I glance up at him.
“How is she, by the way?”
“She’s good. Misses you. For real, though, she doesn’t shut up about you,” he complains, running his hand over his face.
“Not sure why when you’re the favorite child.”
He rolls his eyes at my griping. “They treat me differently because I’m a man.”
“Uh huh. You’re the favorite. It’s cool, I accepted it a long time ago. Keep up.” I shrug as I lick some frosting off my fork.
“Shut up, man. What’s been going on in good old Texas?”
“This bidding war is moving slowly, as expected. But I have a lot riding on this…I’m just trying to keep my head up and my hands clean. That’s all.”
Fuck. Why did I say that? I don’t need anyone worrying about me.
“And how’s that going for you?” he asks with a quirked brow.
“It’s been a challenge, but I am hanging on. That’s all I can do.”
“If you’ve got a problem, tell me. I’m serious, Dee,” he says in a firm tone that sounds exactly like Dad’s.
I don’t respond, unsure of how to navigate this conversation, and it’s not like I’m very good at lying to him. Darius can always sense when something is wrong with me.
He continues, “Need I remind you that the face of the brand never dirties their hands. That’s what I’m here for.”
“I find that funny, since you’re the preferred face of Divin and there’s blood on yours,” I retort.
“My image is as important to me as cleanliness is to you, but any blood I spill allows for you to stay clean. You’re welcome, Dee,” he scoffs.
“How could I ever forget to thank you?” The sarcasm rolls so easily off my tongue.
“Dee, you never give it a damn rest,” he huffs, like I’m ruining his high. “Smoke some damn weed and enjoy the day off. I mean it. Might fuck around and put you on a mandatory leave if you don’t relax.“
“You would not,” I challenge, leveling him with a stare.
“I fucking would. Try me, Sis,” he says with a smug smile.
“Fine. I’ll open up your care package and see what it’s hitting for.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t opened it yet.” He gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Texas has changed you.”
“Shut up, punk,” I mutter, taking another bite.
“My mama ain’t raise no punks.”
“She raised you ,” I taunt.
“You know what? Imma let that slide because it’s our birthday,” he jokes, and I’m faced with his smile. It looks the same way it did when we were kids.
“You’re a fool. I miss you, Dare,” I say softly.
“I miss you, too. You’re always welcome home, you know? Could always hide out at my place to avoid Mom and Dad. I won’t tell,” he whispers the last part conspiratorially.
“Thanks, man. Enjoy your day. I love you,” I say, taking another bite of cake.
“I love you, too, Dee. It’s still our day, no matter what. See you soon,” he says with a wave before the screen goes black.
Once I finish my slice and ice cream, I wander into my office to retrieve the goodies I’ve been ordered to indulge in. I open the door, and the care package from Darius waits on the floor.
Carefully, I slice through the tape to find an array of edibles and airtight jars of various strains, labeled with their names and benefits. Under those there are some of my favorite snacks and pre-rolled joints.
Always looking out for me , I think as I sift through the pre-rolleds to find an energetic hybrid to enjoy. Something calming for me to unwind, but not too much that I fall asleep.
I find a shaded spot out back near the pool and settle into a lounge chair with my Kindle and fire it up. I quickly silence my phone before getting lost in my latest read. The slow burn is finally about to heat up.
A while later, I migrate back into the house to sprawl out on the couch.
I’ve been devouring this book and the spice did not disappoint.
I take a peek at my phone and am surprised to see just how much time has passed since I started reading.
What is the saying? Time flies when you’re reading smut or something like that?
“ Motion detected. Motion detected. Front door camera ,” sounds from my phone.
I rise to my feet, reaching for the gun I keep in a small drawer on the side of my coffee table before I even pull up the camera feed.
An unfamiliar blue car is parked in my long driveway, and two women exit, popping the trunk to retrieve luggage as they approach my door.
As they get closer, I realize I couldn’t be more relieved to see them.
Alora and Skye. Thank God.
The doorbell chimes, and my phone pings with the notification: You have someone at your door .
“Honey, we’re hoooome!” They sing their arrival in unison.
“Hot and ready at your door,” Alora says with a chuckle.
Pressing the microphone button to speak, I say “I’ll be right there!”
I rush up the stairs, realizing I now have to stash the pistol in my other hand somewhere they won’t find it. Fuck .
“Just a moment. Sorry!” I yell out, buying myself time.
Frantically I scramble to hide the weapon, shoving it inside a drawer in my home office.
It makes me more comfortable to have one in most of the rooms, but I can’t exactly explain to them why I would need to.
I bolt back down the stairs, wondering if Scar is watching me run around like a headless chicken.
With a deep inhale that I hold, I wipe the beading sweat from my forehead then exhale.
I open the door to welcome my friends inside, and between screams, they wheel in their luggage.
Skye nearly tackles me to the ground once I’m in their reach, with Alora jumping on top of us.
They take turns squeezing me in hugs, and their touch is healing.
I’ve missed them.
While random pop ups stress me out, my girls are always welcome. Lo flew in from Brooklyn and Skye from Houston. I couldn’t be more relieved they’re here.
“It’s cute how you think we can’t tell when you’re sad, because you have your tells. So, we’re here to get you away from work and outside to party,” Skye says with a huff, pushing her hair out of her face.
“Now, where can a girl find a decent drink around here?” Alora interjects, her curls piled in a messy bun on top of her head.
“Or a decent man?” Skye adds with a smirk.
“I’ll let you know when I find the men, but the drinks I can provide.”
I give Skye and Alora a tour of the place and show them my spare bedrooms for them to settle in before I give them a tour of my room. The moment I swing the door open, Alora heads straight for my bed, plopping down.
Skye’s eyes catch on a large vase of flowers waiting on my vanity that wasn’t there before I left to get birthday goodies. A vibrant bouquet with florals in shades of pink, red, and purple.
I squint to focus on them, believing that it’s the high and I am just seeing things. I must be seeing things.
Are those celosias? On a Thursday? Oh my God.
She climbs atop the bench and retrieves a note from the large bouquet.
For the birthday girl.
I hope your day is as beautiful as you are.
Con amor, Scar. :)
“Ooh. Who’s Scar?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
My mind races for an excuse that would make sense, because I can’t exactly tell the truth without them freaking out, can I?
Scar is a tall, dark, and chiseled pain in my ass.
“So, a funny story about that. I have a secret admirer,” I try out, with a forced smile.
“Really now? Is it somebody from work?” Skye asks, her brow raised.
“I suspect it’s someone on our payroll, and I’m the boss so nothing can happen anyway,” I say with a shrug.
Good one! Not a complete lie either.
“Right, but celosias? Dee.” she says dramatically, her face wearing an incredulous expression. “You gotta fuck him. At least once. I don’t make the rules.”
“I can’t date anyone that’s a part of my staff, so, that’s a no for me.”
“Bullshit. You’ve shit where you’ve eaten before, with—” She pauses, her lips forming a thin line. “I’m so sorry,” Skye apologizes, her eyes wide.
Alora chimes in, breaking up the awkward moment. “That’s completely understandable. Dee is a professional and has a lot on the line that she wouldn’t throw away for dick.”
“Thank you very much,” I say, grateful for the save.
“So, when did it start?” Alora asks, staring expectantly at me.
“A few weeks ago.”
Her brows knit, and she shares a look with Skye. I know that look. It’s the this girl is lying and thinks we must be stupid look.
“What are you not telling us?” Alora asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
I’m too high for this shit, and I won’t make it through this interrogation.
“Nothing. I don’t know the guy,” I rush out, wishing the conversation were already over.
“But he had flowers sent to your house . Not just any flowers either. Are you sure you don’t know them?” she asks, staring expectantly.
“It’s my birthday, dammit. I don’t want to play a game of questions,” I whine, now mad that they’re ruining my high.
“Well, that’s too damn bad, ain’t it?” Skye says with a cackle.
Here we go.