Her hair looks the same as always to me, but she glows with pleasure, fluffing it. “I was feeling a bit daring this morning and gave myself a trim. Barely half an inch! I didn’t think anybody would notice.”
Felix rolls his eyes.
“Looks great, I meant to tell you,” Dad cuts in hastily.
Ever the doting fiancé, Hall tells me I’m looking lovely, too, and sweeps by to get cracking on an apple pie. My mother’s in love with his apple pies. “I can’t wait to have you in the family,” she gushes to him, drawing his hand between hers. “I’ll finally have someone to bake with. None of my children have ever shown any interest.”
A squeak sticks in my throat. I can’t open my mouth, staring awkwardly at nothing. It’s as if Marilou’s congratulations have made it all real, and until now, my family thought we were only playacting. They didn’t pepper Hall and me with questions about our big day, or if I wanted A-line, mermaid, or ball gown.
“Magic tricks,” Felix heckles from out of nowhere. “What is he, twelve?”
“You shut your mouth,” I return with a violence no one expects, judging by the looks on all their faces.
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Hall tells him, mellow as a field of spring flowers.
Felix laughs without humor. “I’ve got better things to do.”
“Like what?” I lean forward, burning holes into his eyes with my focus. “Texting? Sending someone pictures of my personal life?”
“Easy,” he growls.
“You managing to find somebody’s nine of diamonds in a deck of cards would be the single most remarkable thing you’ve ever done.”
“Bettie,” Hall warns gently. The warm, deep grumble of his tone makes the tiny hairs on my arms stand on end, not unpleasantly so.
“If you don’t like card tricks,” Hall tells Felix, “I’ve got a cupgame, too, where you find out which one’s hiding the Ping-Pong ball. And thenthis, which is my favorite.” He holds out his hands, showing us that they’re empty. Then he claps, and the cheap black wand from his David Copperfield kit appears between them. “Watch.” He taps the wand against a cupboard door where salad bowls are kept, then opens the door. Pulls out a pineapple. “Ta-dah!”
When only two people clap, he settles a fist on his hip. “Did the rest of you see? It’s a pineapple!” He holds it aloft like a trophy. “I made it appear in the cupboard with this magic wand! I didn’t even use... other... methods.”
Felix leans back in his chair, doing his best to convey boredom. “Don’t quit your day job.”
Hall’s eyes tighten to snappish red hots, and he is very likely about to shoot back a retort about his day job literally being magic production when Mom cuts in. “Let’s go sit somewhere else,” she suggests. “The oven makes it so hot in here, plus all the body heat. The heat is making us grumpy.” Dad gets up, turns the fan back on. She tosses him a reproving look, but I can tell she’s secretly grateful. He runs his fingers through her hair briefly while passing behind her.
“The children took over the TV in the living room, thanks to the Xboxyouhad to bring,” Grandma says dryly, with an accusing glance at Felix.
“You wanna entertain them?” My brother raises a challenging eyebrow. “I would love to see that.” Playing with Grandma when we were kids consisted of us lighting her cigarettes (before she quit) and painting her toenails. We spent summers eating Lunchables on the patio with our feet in buckets filled with water, since weweren’t allowed in the Jacuzzi, while she watched her “stories” (soaps) and ate the most expensive chocolate truffles she could get shipped from France, pretending not to realize she’d locked us out of the house.
Grandma raises a brow, too, probably inwardly writing Felix out of the will.
Hall unspools colorful silk ribbons from his pockets, piles them in front of Felix in some sort of passive-aggressive display of power, and commences prepping ingredients for his pie. “Anyone want to help me cut out some snowflakes? Madeline?” He holds up a sheet of pie dough. “We’ll make a decorating bar.”
“Oh, that sounds delightful!” Mom exclaims.
Felix, who is usually her Best Boy, has had enough. “Pie isn’t even that good,” he mutters. “It’s not like it’scake.”
I’m trying to concentrate on Hall, worried Felix will hurt his feelings, while Marilou laments not getting to wear tulle for her wedding. Athena brags loudly about the tulle she wore forherwedding, and Kaia mutters, “Yeah, you love that dress so much that you keep your first wedding pictures up on the wall still.”
“You can put that prejudice against divorcées back in the 1800s, where it belongs,” Felix snaps. “Just wait tillyou’reon your third divorce. Courtney will burn your house down, too, and then you’ll know how it feels.”
“Can’t divorce if you never get married,” she shoots back. “Courtney and I broke up. I don’t have time for a relationship. Haven’t you noticed that I never date anyone for longer than a month?” She raises a brow, flicking him a derisive look. “Take notes, big brother.”
Mom gasps. “But you said you loved Courtney. Didn’t you get her name tattooed on you?”
Kaia twists to show us all a delicate black-and-gray flower blooming on her shoulder blade. “Not her name. It’s just a daffodil.”
“Her birth month flower, though, right?” Mom replies. “That sounds serious.”
Kaia shrugs. “Doesn’t have to be. Now it’s just another flower for my garden.”
