“Alright, but I want to know the story behind that worm,” I giggle as he wraps himself around me and lifts me off the couch.
“Never going to happen,” he tuts, turning off the kitchen light as he passes.
“Hellcat, I don’t think this is a good idea.” I stand outside her family home — dusty blue paneling, white rose bushes framing the stone steps — completely filled with dread. Daisy is still sitting in the back of the truck, playing on her phone, completely ignorant of our conversation as Rhea fixes her hair in the mirror of the passenger door.
A week ago, we told Daisy about what was happening, transparency was important to Rhea, and that made it important to me. She’s just as much a part of Daisy’s life as I am, and we didn’t want to sneak around behind her back.
“Why?” She stands up straight in her wrestling shirt and ripped jean shorts with a confused look on her face. I wore one of the three button-down shirts I have and feel extremely overdressed next to her, but she doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest.
“We can just be friends in there. Roommates. If that’s what you’re worried about.” She says it so casually, and it bothers me.Because you aren’t friends anymore. Idiot.
“It’s your family,” I stress to her.
“Oh. Okay, well… family means something different to you than it does to me.” She looks from me to the house and back again, “Be more afraid of making it out alive and less of what they think of you, and if Mom tries to show you a single baby picture, respectfully decline.”
“You’re out of your mind. My only reward for going in thereisbaby pictures. I’m not passing that up.” I say to her, and she rolls her eyes.Ialso don’t want to spend two hours around you being respectful when all I wanna do is be in bed, where the world is quiet.
“It’s just dinner, Brighton. Gabe will make pasta, Reid will ignore you, Rue will give you the‘you hurt my sister’speech, all while Mom yells.” She explains. “Just don’t leave your wallet anywhere because Toby has sticky fingers, and oh my god, don’t sit on anything unless you wanna stain your pants.”
“At least you come by being a raccoon honestly,” I say to her.
“I’m taking that as a compliment,” she coos as Daisy finally slides from the truck.
“Sorry, Mom called for a weekly update and wouldn’t stop asking questions,” she says, pulling out her headphones.
“Did you tell her about your boyfriend?” I ask.
“She loves Auggie,” Daisy says.
Something about that gets under my skin, my jaw clenches, but I nod. “That’s good.” I offer. Daisy doesn’t notice the clipped tone, but Rhea definitely does. She raises an eyebrow at me with a tiny smirk, but it helps calm the frustration that swims beneath.
We all head inside, and Rhea enters without knocking but kicks off her boots at the front door, which I find odd considering she stomps around our apartment in her dirty shoes every day. We follow suit and are immediately accosted by a small boy with fiery red hair and a wild look in his eyes, who I can only assume is Toby. He stares me down before his eyes flicker to Daisy, and a smile creeps on his face.
“This is Toby,” Rhea says. “And that little wildin’ is Shana.” A tiny girl, similar to Toby, waves from her spot on the long, messy couch, barely breaking her focus on the book she’s coloring in. Rhea moves on through the house, picking up toys and clothing as she goes, and Daisy gets distracted by Toby, leaving me standing alone in the hallway.Since when does she clean?
The wall opposite the staircase is scattered with pictures, all in different-sized frames,and clearly span decades of their lives. Rhea’s graduation picture is adorable; her hair is cut short around her face, and she’sstill losing some of her stubborn baby fat from her cheeks. The one next to it is smaller, and it’s obviously been ripped on the left side and tucked back into the frame without much care.
“I hate that one,” she says. I look over at her, not realizing that she’s backtracked to find me. “She’s got a hundred other pictures of our family, but she refuses to take that down.” Rhea points to it. “She says it’s the only one of her and us she likes because Reid is actually smiling, but that’s bullshit.”
I frown, my eyes turning back to the picture.
“She keeps it up because she likes to cry about it,” Rhea whispers. “This one is better.” She points to a picture of the seven of them at Disneyland. “They took us to Disneyland for their honeymoon.”
“Romantic,” I say to her, and tangle my hand into hers with a thoughtful squeeze because her eyes are still locked on the ripped family photo. “Was he in it?”
“Once upon a time,” she says. “Tearing him out means he doesn’t exist.” She means it to be a joke, but I can hear the sadness in her voice.
“I like this one,” I point to one that’s higher on the wall of her, and an older man, I’m guessing, is Gabe at an event. She’s decked out in wrestling gear, couldn’t be more than seventeen, and she’s wearing a smile I’ve never seen before.
“That was the best day ever,” she says.
“Alright, where are the embarrassing ones?” I tickle her side gently as she swats me away. I sneak a kiss on the top of her head as a girl comes around the corner. She's exactly how I picture Rhea, about ten years younger. I look between the two of them and extend my hand, “Remi?” I ask, and she nods.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are because Rhea doesn’t talk about her life…” Rue hisses uncomfortably.
“This is Brighton,” she says, making a face at her younger sister. “Don’t be rude.”
“You can call me Bright,” I say. “I work with Rhea.”
