Sitting down on the living room couch, I tell her, “She’s unlike anyone I’ve dated before.”
“That must be refreshing,” my sister says, sounding relieved. “Your regular type left a lot to be desired.” She’s not wrong.
“Finley isn’t a slick city woman,” I tell her. “She’s from a small town in Illinois and she’s a photographer.”
“I love that she’s artistic. That’s definitely a step up for you.”
“She’s also on the spectrum,” I tell her. “But you can’t act like you know. I think she’s a little sensitive about it.”
“Why?” I’m not surprised my sister asks this question. She’s very comfortable with who she is and she apologizes to no one.
“She found out in high school,” I tell her. “I think it created an identity crisis for her.”
“Bullies,” my sister surmises the problem in one word. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“Also …” I decide to share part of my scheme with her. Jokes sometimes confuse Vivie, and I don’t want her to think I’m really giving up being a doctor. But I do want her to enjoy the reveal, so I tell her, “I’m finally getting even with Mom and Dad for that trip to Cleveland.”
“Really?” She sounds positively delighted. “What are you going to do? Kidnap them and drop them off on a deserted island to fend for themselves? Tell them you bought them tickets to swim with dolphins, but it’s really sharks?”
“Nothing that extreme,” I assure her.
“You should tell them you got three women pregnant at the same time. Mom will lose her mind.”
“Yeah, not going to do that, either.” Is it me or is my sister a bit more Machiavellian than I’ve ever noticed?
“You should …”
Instead of hearing her out, I say, “I’m not going to tell you what I’m doing, but I wanted to give you some advance notice that it isn’t real.”
“Thank you, Tommy. I appreciate that.” Vivie is not a huge fan of surprises. My parents knew that when they took us to Ohio instead of Hawaii, but my sister’s therapist at the time thought it was a good idea to expand her boundaries. Our parents didn’t seem to realize switching vacation destinations went beyond gentle pushing and bordered on childhood trauma. Having said that, I was more negatively affected than Vivie. Hence my desire for revenge.
“I’m already packed to come see you next weekend,” my sister says. “I hope the weather is nice.”
“Bring a raincoat,” I tell her. “A heavy one.” While she does some traveling, she doesn’t do a lot, and she never does it alone. “Are you ready for the flight?” I ask.
“I have a tranquilizer, my headphones, and a new eye mask,” she says. “I’m also bringing that scratchy wool blanket for the plane. I should be fine.”
This has been Vivie’s way of coping since we were kids, and she’s gotten good at it over the years. “You’re a real trooper,” I tell her.
“That’s nice of you to say.” She pauses before adding, “I miss you, Tommy. And while I’d like for you to move back home, I’m happy you’re living your life for you.”
I don’t want to get her hopes up by telling her I’m not totally happy here. Instead, I say, “I appreciate your support, Viv. It means the world to me.”
“That’s what family is for. You’ve always had my back, and I will always have yours.”
I hang up with my sister feeling the warmth of being genuinely loved. Vivienne is a person completely without artifice. Once she loves you, she will do anything for you. No questions asked. I’m guessing she and Finley are a lot alike in that way.
Speaking of Finley, I can’t wait to see her tonight. I pick up the phone and call the lodge in hopes they can execute tomorrow night’s plan tonight. Then I hurry to shower off all the body makeup I’m currently wearing. Once I’m all dried, I go to my closet and pick out my softest sweater.
I’m hoping Finley won’t be able to keep her hands off me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FINLEY
I haven’t been to the lodge yet so I’m super excited. In fact, I rarely go anywhere that requires my dressing up. But tonight is a special occasion. I pull out the dress I wore to my cousin’s wedding and hold it up to my body. Then I stare at my reflection in the mirror. It’s the most appropriate thing I own, but it’s not particularly soft, and I want to be comfy tonight.
I stand there in my towel for another five minutes trying to decide if sacrificing my comfort is worth the price of looking good. I decide it’s not. I’m going to be nervous enough being on a real date with Thomas that I need to make sure everything else is as calming as possible.
