And then there was the birthday thing, which Lia could barely explain even to herself.
Ask her about practical things, things that have concrete answers. She was good at those. But talk about how she felt? Who had the time? Certainly not her very busy brother.
She could almost feel Teddy’s eyes on her, could imagine the conversation he and Ate Frankie had prior to offering the middle Mertola to be his extra luggage on this trip.
“I know you said you already won at therapy,” Teddy said, and Lia tried not to wince at that. That was the Lia of a year ago who had gotten a promotion and was high on a happy crush, was meeting with friends weekly and generally crushing it at life. “But if you need someone to talk to…”
He looked away so Lia couldn’t see the expression on his face. She smiled, even as her heart squeezed in her chest. She was used to being on the other side of this non-versation, the one who assured Teddy that she would be there when he was ready. It touched Lia deeply that he was trying to switch the roles up a little bit this time, in his own cautious, awkward way.
She wasn’t planning on taking him up on that offer. It was kind, but he had other, more important things to think about. His own life to live. What she felt (or didn’t), wasn’t worth dumping on someone else.
Generational trauma? Oh, the Mertolas knew that well.
“I appreciate you saying that.” See, that’s not a lie! Lia leaned her cheek on her taller brother’s arm as she stood beside him. “But don’t worry. Companies close up all the time. People get busy. It’s just seasonal. I’ll figure this out.”
“Does that include saying yes to the SixJays anniversary project?” Teddy yanked at a loose strand of her hair, making her jerk down and over correct to stand back up, letting him go. “Mon was really excited to hear your ideas. He knows you listened to that album on repeat when I was a kid.”
“Pfft. We were fully teenagers fifteen years ago. Also, you’re being nice, it’s weird.” Lia shuddered.
“I’m doing something for you, which you are uncomfortable with.”
“Olé.” She meant to say touché, damn. “I haven’t said yes to Mon yet.” Mon was Teddy’s business partner at Triptych Records, whom Lia had known since he was a dorky Lit major one batch after her. “The stakes are too high.”
“You like high stakes.” Teddy pointed out, which was true. “Managing projects was literally your job, and you love Dawn.”
“The album is my favorite. But?—“
“And a project couldn’t hurt, since you’re about to spend your net worth on pastry, perfume, and skincare.”
“There is no shame in taking care of your skin.”
“I didn’t say there was. I believe in you. You always have great ideas, Ate. You’re cool, and you’re good at this.”
It was a sweet thing to say. So sweet that tears sprang up unexpectedly, and she had to blink them away in the guise of “eye drops kasi.” And Lia knew that it was true, that if you wrotea list of the things she’d achieved in her life, she was by no means a loser.
But the fact was, she still felt like one, which made that list mean…not that much.
“I’m intrinsically valuable, and I’m a good person, I know.” The words still felt empty, but saying them out loud might make her feel that much better about it.
“Oh. Ate Frankie’s video calling,” Teddy announced, making Lia look up to see him opening the call on his phone. Both Lia and Teddy’s faces lit up when the person on the other end turned out to be a five-month-old baby, with more cheeks and eyelashes than was allowed on a human face. “Sam!”
“Oh my gosh, who’s Ninang’s favorite baby? Who?” Lia cooed at the phone as baby Sam screamed excitedly, bouncing in his mother’s tight hold. Then the camera panned to the eldest Mertola’s face. “Yes, you! You self-loving, valued member of this family!”
“What?” Teddy asked.
“I’m trying to get him to not value his looks.”
“Wow, you guys look exhausted,” Frankie observed, and both her siblings’ faces visibly fell.
“Oh, hey Ate.” Lia said.
“That’s a great way to greet your Ate, Li.”
“Can’t you just show us Sam again?” Teddy asked, and Frankie rolled her eyes. “He might forget who we are.”
“He’s five months old. He doesn’t really know who anyone is.” Frankie pointed out to her siblings. “And really, the two of you are in no position to bargain for baby video call time when neither of you told me that you had already landed! What if your plane crashed?”
“Ate, it’s more dangerous to ride a car than it is to fly in a?—”
