I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, hoping it keeps my blood pressure steady.
After dinner, we sat outside while Dad napped and had a long talk about the future. It was hard, and I don’t think any of us wanted to do it, but it was necessary. We had to get on the same page.
Mom admitted she needed help—or would soon. Elodie explained that we were worried about her and that she needed to prioritize seeing her friends and getting manicures. Whatever made her happy. Evie offered to move back in, which was met with a resounding no and a lot of laughs. I offered to move my schedule around to help with the doctor’s appointments and house maintenance. Mom reluctantly agreed.
“He had a bad day,” I say, sitting on the couch. Gianna curls up next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. “He asked about Bingo a bunch for some reason. Bingo was Elodie’s dog when we were growing up. He hasn’t been alive for probably twenty years.”
She stretches an arm across my middle, touching her lips against my bicep.
“We did get Mom to agree to having more help, though,” I say. “Elodie is taking the reins because she’s your prototypical oldest daughter. Everything and everyone is her responsibility, although she doesn’t say it like that.” I slide my arm around Gianna’s back and hold her close. “I think this is her way of feeling like she has some control over the situation. She’ll make her lists and monitor everyone’s emotions, and that’ll help her sleep at night.”
Gianna grins. “Do you think if she came over and helped me get organized that she would sleep even better?”
I chuckle. “What would you do if everything were organized around here?”
“Get itchy, probably.” She laughs, too. “I think I’m the opposite of Elodie. Chaos feels like control to me. I’ve never realized that until now.” She pauses, lost in her thoughts. “Mayhem makes it harder to be surveilled. You can’t fail if you don’t play, so to speak.”
That’s interesting, but knowing what I know about her family, it makes sense.
“I’d love to get you and Elodie in a room together,” I say, stoking my fingers down her arm. “Aside from the organizational part, I think the two of you would really get along.”
“Why?”
“Well, you’re both brilliant and creative, although in different ways. You’re a brilliant artist, and Elodie is more innovative when it comes to working through a problem. She’s never taken no for an answer like someone else I know.”
Gianna kisses my arm again, and I think I feel her smile against my shoulder.
“What about Evie?” she asks. “Would we get along?”
I hum while I think about that. “Yeah, you would. I mean, of course, you would. But she’s kind of all over the place. She could call me from a prison in Thailand tomorrow, and I wouldn’t be all that surprised.”
Gianna giggles. “Really?”
“Really. She gets an idea, and she does it. She doesn’t think it through, contemplate the ramifications, or perform a risk assessment. She jumps in with both feet … probably in heels, to really grab headlines.”
“She sounds fun.”
“Depends on who you are to her,” I say. “If you’re her friend and can ignore her calls, she’s probably a barrel of fun. If you’re her brother? Not so much.”
“I bet Lucia says that about me.”
We sit quietly together, neither of us forcing a conversation. There’s no need with Gianna to fill every moment with something for the sake of it. It’s one of my favorite things about being with her. I can justbe with her. And that’s enough.
“Is Lucia married?” I ask. “Or does she have kids?”
“Nope, although she’d be happy to get married if she met the right guy, and I can see her being a mother someday. I could see her adopt a baby if she doesn’t meet the right guy. She’s just maternal, I guess.”
“Elodie goes back and forth about adoption. She’s thirty-six and thinks she’s too old to have kids—especially with no husband in sight.”
“I think it’s a nice idea to adopt,” Gianna says.
Oh. “Is that something you’d like to do someday?”
We haven’t talked about having a family since I brought it up on our first date. She balked, and I chalked it up to something she didn’t want to discuss right off the rip—which, understandable. I’ve never brought it up again.
But things have changed. The way I feel about her has changed. We’re almost five weeks into this relationship, and I can see myself settling down with her. She fits into my life like a glove, and I think I fit into hers just as easily. If I had my way, I’d consider myself permanently taken. But if we’re talking about or thinking about a long-term relationship, we’ll have to discuss it at some point.
Gianna shifts, pulling away from me slightly. “I haven’t given it a lot of thought personally. I just meant theoretically.”
