“I got a 1430 on my SATs.”
“Did you?” she asks, looking surprised. “But what did Katherine get?”
I sigh. “1480.”
“There you go. Katherine was more academic. But it was bound to be the case. She was more organized that you. You remember that time when you forgot to let the cat out and she ruined your mother’s curtains?”
“I was thirteen.”
“The cat tore those curtains to shreds.” My aunt leans forward and tries to get my mom’s attention at the head of the table. “Do you remember when Lucy forgot to let the cat out?”
Mom shrieks. “Oh, God. Those curtains were so expensive, and they were just ruined.” She shakes her head. “But I shouldn’t have relied on Lucy. It was my own fault.”
“I’m keeping a list,” my dad says. “Your husband will get a bill when you finally walk down the aisle. All the things you ruined. All the messes we had to clear up.” He chuckles, and my mom joins him.
I’m the joke of the family.
“I always said you’d be trouble, Lucy. I knew it when I was giving birth to you.”
I groan. I don’t want to hear about how I cried coming out of the womb. Not again. Can I leave the table without people thinking I’m making a scene? Sometimes I just tire of being the joke of the family, the runt of the litter, the kid who just can’t get it together.
“That’s not how I see Lucy at all,” Hunter interrupts. “Maybe it’s because I didn’t know her as a child. But as a woman, she’s not the person you describe. Not at all.” My heart lifts in my chest at the way he’s going to bat for me. Katherine sticks up for me, but Hunter doesn’t have skin in this game. He doesn’t have to be in my corner like this. “She’s incredibly well respected at her job. She’s kind and self-sacrificing. Beautiful. Positive. She wants everyone around her to be happy. I think she’s ... wonderful.”
Hunter turns to me and smiles. His grin is all warmth and sunshine, and I’m so grateful that he’s here, staring at me, sticking up for me, on my side.
“Well, of course she’s much better now,” Mom says. “But she and Katherine are still like chalk and cheese. Did you even see what she went out wearing on Wednesday night?”
Hunter’s eyes flare and he nods. He’s answering Mom, but he’s staring at me just like he did on Wednesday, his eyes filled with fire and lust.
“Katherine looks lovely,” I say, breaking Hunter’s gaze. “And I can’t wait to see her as a bride.”
“Yes,” my dad says. “She’ll be the perfect bride.”
The conversation turns to the wedding. I see my opportunity to leave the table for a few minutes and gather myself. I knew this wedding week was going to be full of comparisons between Katherine and me—comparisons in which I inevitably end up on the losing end. I’d mentally prepared myself. But it’s still hard hearing it sometimes.
I head out to the front of the restaurant, so I can watch the water and take a few deep breaths. The next thing I know, Hunter is standing next to me, his hands pushed into the pockets of his linen suit.
“Meeting your family is ... something,” he says as we both lean against the small brick wall in front of the restaurant.
“You’re starting to see how much better Katherine is in every way?”
“Absolutely not. But I’m starting to understand why you’re so hard on yourself. How could you not be when your parents are even harder on you? Is every family function like this?”
“You mean the jokes about what a mess I am? The unflattering comparisons between me and my sister? The put-downs? The mean comments.” I nod. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“No wonder you moved to New York.” He leans over and presses a kiss to my head. I lean against him.
“Yeah. But now that Katherine’s getting married, I’m going to be expected to move back. My mom’s best friend literally just asked me when I’m coming home for good.”
“Like you’re playing at having a life in New York? Just because that’s what they expect doesn’t mean that’s what you should do.”
“I know. But it’s just another thing I have to fight against. The comparisons to Katherine. The stories about how I ruined things and was a mess when I was a kid. And now it’s them all telling me it’s time to move back to Boston.”
“You want to move back?” he asks.
“Are you kidding me? New York is more a part of me than Boston ever was. And why in the hell do they want me back if I’m such a walking disaster?”
“I think it’s just an easy narrative they’ve fallen into.”
