Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Finch
I stuffed another cheese-covered piece of crusty bread in my mouth, my stomach gurgling with my weekly overindulgence in dairy.
"Finch?"
"Huh?"
I looked up to realize Crane was holding out a photo on his phone. I must've zoned out. All the late-night chick feedings were starting to make me loopy.
"Owl, easy," I said, correctly identifying the mystery poop in his photo. I skewered another piece of bread and swirled it in the fondue pot in the center of the table, mindlessly eating while my siblings nattered away.
It was Sunday, which in the Lachlan household meant Sunday Funday Fondue Day. It was yet another one of our zany family traditions along with our family’s own dinner party game called “It's feces but what species?"
Probably only zookeepers thought it was good fun to quiz each other on animal shit while we were eating. I was the reigning champion, but my heart wasn't really in it tonight.
"Another late night?" Mom asked, and I knew she was implying I’d been on a date.
I shot her a look. "Yeah, I was with a chick and not the fun kind." I pointed an accusatory finger at Dove. "You need to have a talk with the macaws about breeding season because this shit is ridiculous. Also—” I turned on Mom. "Will you please just lay off? It's like I turned thirty and all of a sudden, you're constantly on me about the girls I'm seeing. Aren’t these two all disgustingly shacked up enough?" I waved to either end of the table. On one end, Hawk and Hannah sat canoodling and playing footsie under the table, on the other, a laptop sat with Lark and Logan sipping their morning coffees on a Zoom call from New Zealand.
"I'm not doing anything," Mom said with a guilt-inducing shrug. "It used to never bother you when we’d point out your trysts."
"You've been pointing them out a lot lately."
Mom grabbed the salad bowl and started mounding leafy greens onto her plate. “I’m just wondering if you're ever going to have a relationship that lasts more than two dates."
"What about Dove?" I waved dramatically at my little sister. "She's only a few years younger than me."
"Traitor," Dove hissed. Wren chuckled from where she sat next to Mom, working on her embroidery instead of eating. Dove leaned in and whispered to her, "Just you wait. You’ll be joining us in this hellscape soon enough."
Wren shrugged in a very similar way to Mom. Wren was truly Mom's carbon copy—a cozy, little homebody who’d rather be knitting than out partying. I’d waited all her teen years for a rebellious phase, but now at eighteen, I knew we were never going to get one.
"There are four of you ahead of me to pair off first,” Wren said. “With any luck, there will be a dozen nieces and nephews to draw her attention and Mom will skip right over worrying about me. I think I'll be just fine."
Mom did her "time out" gesture and looked back at me. "I'm not saying you need to pair off ,” she said dramatically. “Not ever, if you really don’t want to,” she added, even though her face was pinched. "But maybe a companion who's known you for more than twenty-four hours might be nice some time. I can't help but worry about you?—”
"I'm seeing someone," I exclaimed, and the whole table went silent. Cutlery froze midair, mouths stopped chewing, and all side conversations abruptly halted.
Only the thudding tail of mom’s dog, Phoebe, could be heard as all of my siblings and my mother stared at me in unison.
I couldn't take it anymore. I was exhausted and frustrated and I couldn't deal with my entire family’s disapproval and judgement. I used to be admired by them. It was like one day I blinked and their opinions of me 180-ed. I was the youngest person in US history to complete my veterinary degree. I used to be called a savant. I was routinely asked to keynote at conferences and had co-authored several scientific papers. I was held in high esteem in my community, and moreover my younger siblings used to envy me and my accolades, but now that Lark and Hawk had both found their people, it was like they all pitied me, and I hated it.
I needed to put an end to it, even if it was all lies.
Mom held a scandalized hand to her chest. “You’re . . . seeing someone?"
"Yes," I said. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you, but seeing as you won’t just leave it alone, yes, I’m seeing someone.” I gave Mom a look sharper than a surgical blade. “And we've been on more than three dates."
"Exclusively?" Heron asked, leaning into the table until their sleeve dipped into the salad bowl and Wren had to yank it backward.
"Yes," I said, trying to sound happy, but it came out more like a defensive growl.
The table erupted into utter chaos, everyone talking over each other. Even Lark and Logan started shouting over the Zoom call, waving dramatically to get my attention. Hawk and Hannah had managed to disentangle themselves and were barking a chorus of "Who? When? How?" at me.
"It's Frankie," I blurted out before I could take it back. I panicked and picked the first person I could think of, and she seemed to be bouncing around my mind a lot lately.
Shit.
Crane slapped the table so loud, all the silverware clattered. "I knew it!" He pointed at Heron. "You owe me twenty bucks!"
"Frankie?" Dove asked incredulously. "As in the chef, Frankie? I didn't know she was gay?"
“She’s bi,” Wren cut in.
Dove and I gaped at our unassuming little sister. “And how do you know that?"
Wren answered without looking up from the embroidery hoop she concealed in her lap. "Gaydar," she murmured. "And she told me when she saw my sapphic flag pin on my jacket."
"Aha," Crane said, holding up a victorious finger.
Frankie was bi? She hadn't told me that. I didn’t know how she could’ve casually dropped that into conversation, but for some reason, I wished I’d known. Unless I was incredibly mistaken, she had seemed to really enjoy that kiss we’d shared so . . . that tracked, but still, that information made my whole brain light up like a Las Vegas casino.
"I wanted to wait to tell you until we'd been going out for a little while," I continued, digging that hole even deeper for myself. “Especially since it’s complicated with her working here. We just wanted to keep it low-key for now.”
Mom removed her reading glasses and rubbed her eyes. "You had to pick an employee to finally have a relationship with?” I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up a hand. "No, no, I'm excited for you both, don't get me wrong. Frankie is really lovely. I like her a lot."
"She's funny and nice and great at cooking," Heron said, dropping their chin into their hand. "You're shooting way above your pay grade, sis."
Boy, did I know it. Especially considering that the person I was “dating” didn’t even know yet. Crap . How was I going to ask her? This wasn’t like a “give me a ride to the airport” kind of favor. What was I supposed to say? Hey, for the rest of the summer, can you pretend to be my girlfriend all day, every day so my family leaves me alone? Yikes, she’d probably quit on the spot. I was well and truly fucked.
"If you two break up, I'm team Frankie by the way,” Crane proclaimed, placing his chameleon, Stella, on his shoulder.
"Thanks, bro,” I muttered. "So much for Lachlan family loyalty."
Heron pointed at me. “Just don't break her heart.”
My eye started twitching. "Why do you assume it would be me doing the heart breaking?" The twins raised their eyebrows at me in mirror to each other and gave me a judgmental once-over. "Fair point.” I scrubbed a hand down my face. "Look, this is all very new, and I'd appreciate it if you all could butt out and let me enjoy my relationship without your input.”
Hawk shook his head at me. “Did I just have a stroke, or did Finch say the word relationship ?”
I glared at my older brother. “E tu Brute?”
I’d really done it now. Why couldn’t I make up a fake online girlfriend who lived in Canada like a normal person? I needed to find Frankie immediately and tell her about this ruse before all my lies caught up to me.