My mother—she’s a hugger.
“I knew he wouldn’t have mentioned anything about his birthday to you, and that’s exactly why we had to come and surprise him. My rule—no one goes without cake on their birthday, so I’ll have one whipped up for you by the time you three get home.”
“Three?” Flo seems surprised.
“You didn’t think you were staying here, did you?” Gracie shakes her head and orders Flo and me to get dressed before dragging her luggage from her car.
And I chuckle when Flo whispers to me, “You’re in big trouble for trying to get through the day without telling me it was your birthday.”
Gracie was kind enough to let me choose our destination for today, and with the sun shining so brightly, I thought it would be a shame to be cooped up in a bar, so I went with a farmer’s market just outside of Missarali.
Rows of tents line the path, each adorned with hand-painted signs, and behind them, sellers holler about the deals they have on today. Fresh fruit and vegetables. Sourdough bread. Crocheted children’s toys.
It’s loud, with people chattering, dogs barking, and a country band strumming their guitars and singing softlyover by the sauce stand. It smells like rosemary, and the herb seller beside us attempts to wave a few people over to come and give her stock a smell to entice them into purchasing some.
My black cap covers my face from everyone, and although I stick out of the crowd like a sore thumb because of my height, nobody’s really looking at me. There’s too much already going on. It’s something I’m thankful for when it comes to my sport. Unless you’re a big fan of the team, you probably wouldn’t recognise my face right away.
“Okay, she drinks bourbon, is great with Leo, and has the sexiest legs I’ve ever fucking seen. What is there not to love?” Gracie’s steel grey eyes, lit with a fire that looks like smoke from an open flame, stare straight into mine as we stand a few feet from the yarn stall, where Flo’s sifting through the products. I just know I’m about to receive an earful.
My gaze zooms in on her as she waits in line, holding one grey yarn ball in one hand, and a plastic cup filled with bourbon she just bought from the stall over by the picnic benches in the other. Half of her body is illuminated by the sun, giving her already tanned skin an even more golden glow. She leans casually across the counter as she reaches for another colour ball of yarn, and my heart skips a beat, remembering how I’d bent her over in the shower last night. And over my couch. And over the bench by the lake.
Fuck. She really is something.
Her now rib-length hair tumbles down her back, slightly wavier than usual from the windy car ride, and I wonder what it would feel like to have my hands running through the strands again.
“Still haven’t shaken that crush you have on her, then, huh?”
My eyes flick up in a roll at Gracie’s boldness.
But it’s more than a crush with Flo. That word doesn’t even cover it. A crush is fleeting. It passes as quickly as it appears, but my feelings for this woman won’t pass. They’re rooted, twisted into everything I see. Everything I feel.
“Oh, and I lied by the way.”
“About what?”
A set of keys is then placed in my hand. “About getting you a gift. Didn’t want to make a big fuss in front of everyone, in case you don’t want it and it makes you look like an ungrateful dick in front of your new girlfriend.”
Ignoring the girlfriend comment, I ask, “What are they for?”
“An antique store. Well, what used to be an antique store. It went under, and I managed to get it for a good price. Thought you could get yourself on the property ladder. Give yourself something to do when you retire, so you don’t spiral into a midlife crisis.” My sister shrugs now, nonchalant and unbothered. “Obviously, it’s yours, so do whatever you want with it. Sell it and keep the money.Rent it out to someone. Tear it down and turn it into a strip club. Your choice. I won’t judge.”
Laughter tumbles from my lips, and that causes Gracie’s lip to wobble.
“Whoa, don’t do that again.”
“It was a laugh, Gracie.”
“I know, and I’m not used to it. It creeped me out. Made me feel all weird inside.”
A laugh rises. “Thank you, Gracie. This is a great gift. Really.”
She shoulder barges me. “No problem.” Gracie then slips away before things get too mushy. She’s not a lover of emotions. I can’t actually remember the last time we hugged, not because we don’t love each other, but because I know she'd punch me in the face if I even dared.
Pocketing the keys to the store, I make my way to Flo, who’s just handed some cash to the vendor in exchange for two balls of yarn. She finishes off the rest of her bourbon, then throws it in the trash. “God, my legs hurt,” she complains, dropping herself down onto a picnic bench, closing her eyes and letting the Montana sun beat down on her face.
When she reopens her eyes, I realise I’ve been standing here staring at her for a little too long.
“You want to slip my dress off and fuck me on this one, too?” Flo pats the top of the bench, and I chuckle and sit opposite her.
