Chapter One #2
I tackled her running inside, making her tickle me away when I peppered her face with kisses. “Don’t get a big head, D. You might be eighteen, but I will always be your sister. My no-boundaries kiss attacks are just part of the deal.”
“Consider me warned.”
I shook my head at her eye roll, smile tugging at my lips.
It was wild how much she looked like Mom when she made that face.
Our mother was super pretty, so when everyone said Dora’s long, curly golden locks, freckled nose, green eyes, and crooked smile made her look just like Mom, they were for sure complimenting her.
As for me, Dad’s genes won the genetic race. My hair was raven black to Dora’s blonde. Mine was straight where hers was curly. I was pale while she was tanned and freckled, and my smile wasn’t crooked, but it did unleash two dimples in my plump cheeks just like Dad’s.
Honestly, Dora and I couldn’t look less alike, but since when did that matter? Sisters were sisters.
Shooting ahead of her, I burst into the dining room—throwing my hands up. “Surprise!”
Dora poked her head in, and her jaw dropped.
Laid out on the dining table was a veritable feast of crab cakes, endive and arugula salad, lobster pot pie, braised short ribs, and strawberry cheesecake drizzled with chocolate, topped with an eighteen-shaped candle—and all of it arranged on Mom and Dad’s wedding china.
Finishing off my birthday surprise were pink and gold streamers with paper butterflies attached, drifting down to match the pink-and-gold butterfly balloon arch over the birthday girl’s chair.
The butterfly motif was in honor of our mom.
She always used to tell us that if a little creepy crawly could one day become a beautiful butterfly, how much more amazing would we grow up to be?
Ever since we lost her, we’ve marked every big day and special milestone with butterflies.
I smirked at her hanging jaw. “You didn’t seriously think all I planned for your eighteenth birthday was cheap takeout and store-bought cake, did you?”
“But... but...” She slowly walked in like she thought the streamers would detach and swarm her. “How much did all of this cost?”
I waved that away. “Don’t worry about how much it cost. I took a few extra shifts at the Grill. It’s all covered.”
Dora pursed her lips, eyes narrowing.
Oh gosh, she got that look from Mom too.
“Don’t even try it, Char. I know Café Palmetto’s crab cakes when I see them.
Dip a napkin in water and suck on it, and you’ll walk away with a bill over a hundred.
I know this must’ve set you back a crazy amount.
Why did you do all of this?” she cried, upset leaking into her voice. “You know you didn’t have to.”
“Of course, I had to. You only graduate from high school and turn eighteen once. I wanted today to be perfect.” Grasping her shoulders, I steered her to her seat. “Just like it was then.”
She didn’t have to ask what I meant. Before she turned ten, Dora announced to our parents that she wanted to be a princess on her birthday.
Not have a princess-themed party, but to be an actual princess with a fancy gown, tiara, and a day of pampering.
Being Mom and Dad, they went overboard granting the request.
On the day, they surprised her with a big, frilly pink gown and matching crown.
They rented a horse-and-carriage that took us to the nicest restaurant in town, Café Palmetto, where Dora ate the fanciest stuff off the kid’s menu while giggling over glasses of wine—apple cider—while we all played up the bit.
Can we get you anything else, Princess Dora?
Would you like more wine, Princess Dora?
Years later, Dora still said that was her favorite birthday, and I tried my best to recreate it, but you wouldn’t believe how much they want for frilly teenage-size gowns and horse-drawn carriages these days.
Still, the fancy dinner, crown, and non-alcoholic apple cider wine brought all the spirit memories of that great day.
“Do you like it?” I jumped up and down, clapping. “I moved you up to the adult menu this time,” I teased, “to celebrate you becoming a woman.”
She gave me a wobbly smile. “I love it, Char,” she whispered, easing down onto her throne. “Thank you.”
I squealed. “Just wait. You are going to love me even more when I give you your present.”
“Present? No,” she cried. “You didn’t have to buy me a present too on top of all of this.”
Clicking my tongue, I rolled my eyes. “Will you stop saying ridiculous things? Of course I had to get you a birthday present. Start eating,” I said, rushing out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”
Ducking into the hall, I rooted around in my purse for the little gift box I popped in there earlier. I took it out, dropped her present inside, then rushed back in.
Adora was in the middle of filling her plate with crab cakes and ribs when I dropped the pink box in front of her. “What is it?”
“Open it and find out.”
She did so. Popping the top off, she flipped over the box and her gift tumbled out.
She blinked. “Uh...? I don’t get it. These are your car keys.”
“Nope, they’re not.” I was grinning like the cat who caught the canary. “They’re your car keys. You’re going to need a car for your big move to Baltimore.”
The smile froze on Dora’s face. “But, if I have the car, how are you going to get around?”
I shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I can walk to work, take the bus, or catch a ride from Tiffany after a long shift. Truth is, most of my driving consisted of taking you to and from practice and your volunteer shifts at the hospital, so I don’t need—”
“You don’t need a car anymore because you made me your whole life!” She slammed the keys down, making me jump. “Dammit, Char!”
My eyes popped seeing hers fill. “Dora? D, what’s wrong? Why are you upset?”
“Why am I upset?” She goggled at me. “I’m upset because you were supposed to be the one driving off in your new car to your first-choice university. You were that one until you had to drop everything, give up your place at NYU, and come home to look after me.
“You spent the last four years scrimping and saving to send me to college, and now you’re going to spend another digging yourself out of debt—and you’ll do it without a car!”
“Debt?” I forced a laugh. “I’m not in—”
“Save it,” she snapped. “I know you hide the bills behind the mint chocolate chip cookies in the pantry. Just because I hate mint chocolate doesn’t mean I don’t have you figured out.
” Her face crumpled. “Char, you had your own life and your own plans before... before,” she finished.
“How do you think it makes me feel watching you give all that up for me?”
Smile fading, I leaned forward and laid my hand on top of hers. “You should feel like you were the kid and I was your guardian, and that was my job. To put you first.”
“But—”
“No, Dora, enough.” I squeezed her fingers.
“I made the choices I did of my own free will. No one forced me. No one shamed me. I had the choice to stay in school and let you get taken into care, or come back home and be there for you when you needed me the most. In the end, it wasn’t a choice at all,” I whispered.
“I lost Mom and Dad too, sis, but I was lucky, because when they left, they didn’t leave me alone.
“They gave me this home,” I said, gazing at our perfect little fantasy brought to life, “and you. What kind of dumbass would I be to give up the two best gifts they ever gave me, for a dusty old school that’s not going anywhere?
” I flicked her wet nose. “I will go back to school, Dora. I’ll get my degree.
I’ll become the kind of lawyer Mom and Dad wanted to be—one who helps people in their darkest moments.
And I’ll do all of that knowing I made Mom proud.
I became the butterfly she knew I would be. ”
Adora looked away, sniffling. “You always do that. I start out mad at you, but then you know exactly what to say to make me forget why I was even mad in the first place.
“But not this time.”
I blinked. What?
“What?” I said aloud. “What do you mean?”
“I was the kid, and you were the guardian,” she confessed. “The big sister. You had to make the hard choices, because all the hard choices fell on you. But if you could do that at eighteen, I can too.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means thank you, sis, really, but I don’t want the car.
” She slid the keys across the table. “You’re the one with the job.
You’re the one with a pile of house bills.
You need a car more than me. But I’m going to help you out with that because”—she shot up straight in her seat—“I’m going to get a job too. ”
“No,” I replied without hesitation. “You’re going to Johns Hopkins, D. It’s not the kind of school where you can work all day, party all night, and then puke your way into class the next morning. You need to give it your full attention. You—”
“I’m not asking your permission, Char.” She folded her arms, fixing her chin in the same stubborn way Mom would. “Mom and Dad left the house to both of us. Now that I’m an adult, I can kick in money to cover my share.”
“Your share?” I cried. “You won’t even be living here! Why would I let you compromise your studies just to pay for a house that’s over seven hundred miles away?”
“Well, I— You—” I had her there. “Well, you have to let me do something! If I can’t help you with the house, then I’ll... I’ll... I’ll pay for school myself,” she pounced.
I was already shaking my head before she found the end of her sentence. “You have a college fund, Dora. That’s taken care of.”
“You can use it. Take the money to pay off the bills and then—”
“No.” My face and tone were serious. “Mom and Dad started that fund for you when you were born. I’ve been adding to it, yes, but the bulk of it came from them. I’m not touching a cent of the money they left for you, Dora. And I’m not arguing about it either,” I stated when her lips parted to argue.