"Your apartment isn't what I'd expected," I replied with all the diplomacy I could manage. I fingered the ivy-and-violet-printed duvet, shot a glance to the matchingcurtains.
"Mmhmm." She nodded as she fished in the bag for another chip. "My mother decorates for me. It's her pet project. Whenever I move, she flies in and sets up my place. It used to drive me crazy because she only picks out things from the 1985 Laura Ashley catalog but I get it now. It's what she does. It's how she shows that shecares."
"Like the bracelets?" I asked, digging into a pint of salted caramel icecream.
"Likewhat?"
I tapped my spoon against her wrist. "Bracelets," I repeated. "She sends you bracelets even though you don't wear them, and she decorates your apartment likeLittle House on thePrairie."
"You're thinking of Laura Ingalls Wilder,"shesaid.
"Whoever it is. I went to art school. I know all about shabby chic." I scooped some ice cream and offered it to her, and that was a lazy attempt at seeing her suck on the spoon. "You probably have a lot of guilt about how much you hate all this frilly,floweryshit."
Her head bobbed as she dug for another chip. "You're right.Ido."
"But you won't change a thing because you don't want to hurt your mom's feelings," I continued. "You rather be miserable than turn down the small ways she reaches outtoyou."
"I'm not miserable," Alex argued. "It's just some curtains." She glanced at the opposite wall, and a trio of framed prints featuring babies in flower pots. "And some weird photography that I don't think I'll appreciate until I have kids of my own." She shrugged and looked back at me. "But I can live with all of this. But you're right. It's her way of reaching out, of seeing me, even though there are constant nudges and reminders that I didn't turn out as she'dhoped."
I shook my head. "I see where they're coming from. You should try to get your act together, Alexandra. What makes you think being a surgeon is a real career?" I slapped my hand to my chest. "Drawing houses, that's a real career. That's making a difference. Saving lives? You should really stop withthatshit."
She winged me with her elbow, laughing. "Hilarious," she muttered. "Seriously, there are times when I wonder whether things would've turned out differently if I was a boy as they'd expected. They always say that I'm their big surprise but it seems like they might've formed their vision for me before I was born and haven't been able to change that visionsince."
"If we're comparing short ends of the stick," I started, "I'm pretty sure my father hated me long before I was born. That was the argument he relied on whenever he wanted to beat the shit outofme."
The bag of chips slipped from Alex's hand as she whirled toward me. "Riley," she gasped. "Oh,Riley—"
"You don't have to do that," I said quickly. "He was the worst of humanity. He was violent to no end. I can accurately say he terrorized us as kids. But that bastard has been dead for several years and I made sure he took his hate and anger to the grave with him. I don't worry about whether the vicious things he said held any truth or I deserved some of the hits I took. He's dead, andit'sdone."
Alex ran her fingers over my brow and through my hair, bobbing her head slowly, as if she could accept these revelations but didn't have tolikethem.
"It's not all dark stories and sadness. My siblings insult each other like it's an Olympic sport," I said, forcing some levity. "It's the only way we know how to praise each other. Every now and then, someone will say something nice or complimentary, and it's too fucking weird for life. We just stare at each other until someone comes out with, 'Shut the fuck up,shithead.'"
Alex smirked, and that was the best fucking response imaginable. Most people looked at the Walsh family penchant for beating up on each other as a sign of our depravity, but that wasn't the case. If we didn't have a fuck-ton of mutual respect, we wouldn't be able to run a business together. We didn't have to top it off with polite exchanges when our salty shorthand worked justaswell.
"It's like that with Hartshorn and Acevedo," she replied. "We throw a lot of jabs at each other, and on the rare occasion that we offer real praise, it gets awkwardashell."
"That's precisely it,"Isaid.
"At least you have a unified system with your family," Alex said. "My parents have different approaches with me and Adam. As far back as I can remember, they've always gushed over Adam's every little accomplishment but have never acknowledged anything I've done, not directly. My mother comes here and sets up my apartment, fills the fridge with food, unpacks and irons all of my clothes, but has never said, 'Nice job getting through medicalschool.'"
"Then allow me," I said, feeding her another bite of ice cream. "What you do is fucking amazing. I can't believe how smart and talented you are, and I'm impressed every time you talk aboutyourwork."
"You don't have to do that," she said, shaking off his words. "Please don't get the wrong idea. I'm not sitting around and thinking about how my brother is the favorite and my family doesn't appreciate me enough. That's just how things are in my family, and it's not a big deal. It could be farworse."
"I get that," I replied quietly. "Like I said, my father wasn't a good man. My mother died when I was four. She was pregnant and…something terrible happened. She bled to death. I was a little kid and I watched her die. So, I have that and one other memoryofher."
"Oh, my god," Alex whispered, her fingers pressed toherlips.
"It was awful. I don't understand how I can store those images in my head without falling apart, but I do," I said. "You take all the horrible things and there are plenty of them, and set them aside. You let them be. They're not everyday issues. Notanymore."
"What are your everyday issues?" Alexasked.
I gathered up the ice cream containers and their lids, and set them on the side table with the spoon we'd shared. "Finding my favorite taco truck, helping clients who don't understand their preferences, spilling coffee on my trousers," I replied. "And making time with a hot, sexysurgeon."
Alex gave me a lopsided grin as her gaze pinged between me and the rumpled bed. "You're clumsy in the streets but you're a beast in thesheets."
"You're adorable," I said, matching hersmile.
