Through the open window, I catch sight of Mom rolling her eyes, but the smile playing at her lips gives her away.
As a car pulls up, I squint and shield my eyes from the sun just long enough to confirm it’s my twin, Leo, and his boyfriend Ollie. Another perfect relationship. Even though it should make me feel like the fifth wheel, it doesn’t.
“Leo!” I shout, running toward him.
“Lee-Lee,” he grins, dropping the bags he’s carrying and pulling me in for a hug when I reach him. “How’s my favorite girl?”
Once he lets me go, Ollie pulls me in for an embrace. “Ready to confess yet?” he asks good-naturedly.
And just like that, the usual banter starts. Ollie knows I stole a concert ticket from him years ago, just as he knows I’ll never admit to it. What he doesn’t know is that I still have it stashed in my trophy box.
Back inside, Mom orchestrates kitchen activities with the efficiency of a field general. “Ollie, sweetie, can you grab thoseserving platters from the top shelf? Leo, the dressing for the salad needs to be whisked again. Lena, I need you on corn duty.”
Leo and Ollie move around each other with the ease of people who know each other’s rhythms by heart. Leo reaches for the glasses in the cabinet just as Ollie slides past with a stack of plates, their movements synchronized without a word exchanged.
“Hey, corn star,” Leo calls to me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Heard you’ve been living dangerously in Cleveland. What’s this about almost getting arrested for skinny dipping in a public fountain?”
I nearly drop an ear of corn. “What? I never…” Then I catch his smirk. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Language,” Mom interjects without looking up from her potato salad.
“Sorry, Mom. Leo is such a butt-opening.” I correct myself, sticking my tongue out at my twin. “And for your information, all my swimming has been done—”
“Boring,” Leo interrupts. “The Lena Carter I know once mooned the entire debate team on a dare.”
“That was one time,” I protest. “And they deserved the treat of seeing my ass for the gold-star performance during cross-examination.”
Mom sighs dramatically.
Ollie laughs, his hands full of silverware. “If it makes you feel better, Vicky, Leo still sleeps with his childhood stuffed penguin.”
Leo gasps, clutching invisible pearls. “OMG, the betrayal. And in my own home.”
“Mr. Waddles is an important part of our relationship, babe. I’ve made my peace with it,” Ollie says, leaning over to kiss Leo’s cheek.
I can’t help but smile at their easy affection.
“Speaking of relationships, are any handsome men catching your eye?” Mom asks, smoothly changing the subject.
I suppress a snort. “No comment, your honor,” I say, mimicking a courtroom witness.
Leo whistles. “That’s a yes if I’ve ever heard one. Spill it, sis. Who’s the unlucky guy?”
Images of Matteo flash unbidden through my mind; his beautiful, scarred face, his gray eyes darkening as he looms over me, his hands gripping my hips, his mouth…
Nope. Not going there. Not in my parents’ kitchen with my twin’s psychic abilities potentially picking up my inappropriate thoughts.
“The only relationship I’m committed to is with my career,” I reply primly. “And possibly a new bakery I’ve found.”
“Dinner is served!” Dad’s voice booms from outside. “Everyone outside while it’s still daylight.”
Saved by the barbecue. I grab the bowl of corn and make my escape before anyone can interrogate me further.
The backyard is bathed in the golden light of early evening, the May air is warm without being oppressive. Dad has set the patio table with a cheerful blue tablecloth that flutters gently in the breeze.
String lights crisscross overhead, ready to illuminate our meal once the sun decides to call it a day. The neighborhood is quiet except for distant lawnmowers and the occasional dog bark. Suburban symphony at its finest.
We settle around the table, passing dishes family-style. Dad serves the meat with a flourish, explaining his technique as if we haven’t heard the same spiel at every barbecue since the dawn of time.
