Chapter 5 #2
My feet beg me to stay off them. I choose Dad’s recliner, the most distant seating option, and crank the handle until the footrest pops out. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling good.”
Oakley’s sigh gurgles. “I don’t have time for this!”
“Yeah, well, my one request is that you keep your germs to yourself.”
“I’ll do my best.” She fists the red and green blanket at her chin. “How was your day?”
Day? Blah. Evening? Interesting. “It was fine.”
Her glassy eyes perk. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“You hesitated before answering.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. Tell your sissy. Is Marlene giving you TMI about her dating life again?”
I shiver. Boy, those were some uncomfortable conversations for an awkward, sheltered sixteen-year-old. “Goodness no, thankfully. Just boring as ever, is all. It’s, well…this guy came in tonight…”
“Ooo. A guy?” She hauls herself into a semi-upright position. Blonde strands are matted to her left cheek. “Tell, tell.”
“Who says there’s anything to tell?”
“Don’t be difficult, Ev.”
Fair enough. Playing dumb wastes both our time because the endgame of this verbal sparring is predetermined.
Younger or not, Oakley is my sister and knows me well.
I begin the tale with the account of a nameless guy leaving without paying—or not—and then him turning out to be a pretty decent person.
Oakley claps her hands together. “Oh, this is good stuff! What’s his name?”
“What makes you think I asked?”
“Everly,” she deadpans. “You asked the guy to help you carry boxes. A name is the obvious next step.”
I stare. “I did not ask his name.”
“Oh.” She droops, sulky, as if I’ve ruined her own personal bedtime story.
“His name is Knox.”
She comes off the cushion, stabbing her pointer finger into the air and gloating like she beat me at checkers, which I happened to be the perennial champ of growing up. “Ah-hah!”
“Not ah-hah. I didn’t ask. He volunteered the information.”
Wrong thing to say. Her watery eyes glitter. “Even better.”
“How so?”
“He told you his name because he’s interested in you.”
“I highly doubt that.” In place of actual flirting, I put my foot in my mouth at least half a dozen times
She groans. “Ev, you’re being difficult, and I specifically asked you not to do that.”
“Oak—”
“Now, give me all the deets. We know he’s nice, but is he cute? Hot? Sexy?” She teases her expression into a steamy look.
“Chill, please.”
“Spill the tea, girl. I want to know.” She rubs her germy hands together.
I should never have opened my mouth.
Oh, wait. I didn’t. My sister tapped into her mindreading skills.
Obviously, I’m not getting out of this without feeding her something. “Okay, fine. Yes, he is cute.”
“Tall? I know you like tall.”
“Quite tall. And big.”
Her nose curls. “Like, um…fluffy?”
Knox, fluffy? I shake my head. “Wide shoulders. Just…he looks very strong.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Like an ox?”
“Maybe—but not in a negative way.” I only snarkily thought of him as a moose because he’s so tall, I was harried, and I had a bad attitude at the moment.
“But is he cuuute?”
Knox’s features dance before me. His jaw is solid and strong like the rest of him, and covered with a couple days of stubble. “Yeah. He is.” I was so ticked at his entourage the first day that I failed to appreciate him.
Other than the gawking, that is. That was kinda obvious even to oblivious-with-men me.
Giggling, Oakley snatches another tissue from the box and lays it over her nose. “Eye color?”
“Brown with gold flecks.”
She lowers the tissue without blowing into it. “That was oddly specific.” She hums. “This is big. Remember when you were dating Lance? You were Christmas shopping with Hadley and looking at shirts for him, and when she asked what color his eyes were, you didn’t know. After six months together.”
I remember. Naturally, our middle sister thought the incident was hilarious and promptly reported back to Lance. He broke up with me two days later—at which time I learned my failure to identify the shade of his eyes wasn’t my only offense.
I toe off my ugly shoes, something I should have done at the door. “Not only is this thing with Knox not big, it’s completely nothing. I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”
“He helped you, Everly. He lingered. He gave you his name.”
He told me to lock up. Quite gallant, and the intensity with which he said it, as if my safety mattered to him personally…
“He’ll be back.”
I slap my palms down onto my thighs. “You know what? I hope you’re wrong.”
“Ev-er-leee!” Oakley throws her arms up, waving the tissue and venting to the ceiling. “What is wrong with my sister?”
“Nothing is wrong with me. He just isn’t my type. He works construction.”
Oakley freezes. I swear if she wore glasses, she’d be scooting them low on her nose and staring me down over the rims. “You do know you’re a snob, right?”
“I absolutely am not a snob. I’m a realist. You know my type.”
She pats a faux yawn and sneeze-coughs the word boring.
Sisters. “That isn’t fair. You know me, Oak. I need a guy like me. You know how I’m always reading, always thinking. Always—”
“Boring us with your philosophical musings and making the rest of us hold conversations with our dictionary apps open.”
A growl rattles my ribcage. “Says the girl on her way to medical school.”
“Hey, if I ever become a self-important, arrogant doctor, I give you permission to let me know, too, okay?”
Too? “I am not arrogant and self-important.”
“You think he’s dumb because he’s big and works with his hands.”
I glower. “I said no such thing, nor was that my intent.”
She squints. “Because you are a generally nice person, I’ll take you at your word, but I still say put your money where your mouth is. If he’s a nice guy and he asks you out, you should go, Ev.”
“A generally nice person?”
She waves me off. “You know what I mean.”
Staring down my little sis, I take the stretchy band from my ponytail and brush my fingers through my hair. Arguing with her has long been an exercise in futility.
As for Knox…he definitely seemed nice, though men can fool you. Did he script the prayer comment special for me? “As you may remember, I don’t live in Chandor anymore.”
“So? Dallas is not that far. People commute every day.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. Knowing is a talent of little sisters.” She taps her thick skull as if she possesses some rare superpower.
If she does have one, it’s the gift of annoying like a pro. “That’s not all they’re good at.” Annoying the crud out of exhausted older sisters is Oakley’s real specialty. I stand and stretch my arms, nearly popping my jaw with a giant yawn.
“Detecting a bad attitude, sis. Why don’t you just cooperate? I’m dishing out stellar advice here.”
“Pretty sure I can handle my own love life, but thanks.”
“Let me know when you get one, and then we’ll talk.”
Ouch. Leave it to a sister.
The verbal slap burns the lonely spot that’s been festering in my heart for a while now. I’m at that point where I’m growing increasingly tired of doing life solo. I’m ready for the next step, one I pray my future holds.
I grab Oakley’s toes with the blanket as a buffer and rattle her feet. “You really think I’m going to let you know when I meet someone? Trust me, I’ll be sure the deal is sealed before I give you a shot at scaring the poor guy off.”
“Hey, that’s mean!” She tosses a tightly wadded tissue through the air.
I don’t sidestep fast enough, and the snot grenade ricochets off my shin. “Ugh. You’re proving my point. That’s disgusting, Oak.”
“Well, you deserved it.” She sticks out her tongue.
I return the sentiment. “Alrighty, guess we’ll have to settle this another day. For now, I’m off to bed.”
Her snort sounds a lot like a sneeze. “Sweet dreams.” In a syrupy tone, she adds, “Take notes, sissy…because I’m going to ask all about them in the morning.”