I’ve never met Bailey in person—I’ve seen only pictures back when Micah and I knew each other—but she’s grown into a beautiful woman. She and Micah could be twins even down to the smile. I wonder if they get it from their mom or dad.
“Dani, my sister, Bailey. Bailey, this is Dani. My … friend,” Micah says, not moving from his spot. He doesn’t look up, but he pauses, waiting for me to reject the concept of us being friends. I want to object, because we’re not friends. We don’t know how to be friends without blurring the lines, whichalways leads to our downfall. Something in me won’t let me do it, though, so instead I turn my focus back to Bailey.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay, thanks for asking. And thanks for helping with all this.”
She walks me through what they’ve done since she got there, and I realize I was locked in the bathroom for longer than I thought.
Our polite conversation keeps my emotions in check, despite my eyes flying to Tanya’s paintings with Micah’s every move.
Needing to do something to keep myself busy, I grab a box from the hall closet and start loading the paintings inside once Bailey finishes wrapping them.
“Have you guys started thinking about the gala? Themes and stuff?” she asks, eyes darting between us.
For the first time since I’ve walked downstairs, Micah looks at me.
We haven’t discussed the gala or the scavenger hunt Tanya is sending us on. Cleaning out her house seemed like the safest place to start.
“Is drama a theme? That’s what Tanya would want,” Micah says.
Bailey rolls her eyes. “Well, no. Not exactly. What about a color scheme? What was Tanya’s favorite color?”
“Teal and gold,” we answer in unison.
That color combination is the definition of opulence, she used to say.
“Easy enough. Then we’ll go with that.” Bailey makes a note in her phone. I can see the wheels in her head turning, the gala perfectly falling into place.
“Franky, don’t start,” Micah warns.
She cuts her eyes over to him in a way only little sisters do. “Don’t start what?”
“You don’t have to do everything. Dani and I can do it.”
“And you will. But I can help, so stop trying to bench me,” she demands.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I’m just saying. You get all hype and you wanna take everything on by yourself.”
I make no moves to hide my eyes ping-ponging back and forth between them, but they don’t even seem to remember I’m here.
“I’m aware of my limitations. You don’t have to keep reminding me,” she snaps.
“Franky, I …”
“Umm, sorry,” I interrupt. “What am I missing?” I regret the question as soon as Bailey looks at me in stunned silence.
She takes a minute to gather her thoughts. “I have MS and that means Micah sometimes forgets I’m still a capable adult.”
The look on Micah’s face is a stab to the gut. My heart goes out to both of them. I know Micah means well, that he adores his sister, but he clearly crosses the line to smothering.
“Maybe I should get Micah and my mom together while you and I plan this extravagant party.” I don’t know anything about multiple sclerosis and now isn’t the appropriate time to ask my questions, but I can relate to the problem of overprotective family members. My mom and I fought constantly about her need to keep me safe when I didn’t think I needed it. I didn’t truly understand her struggle as a concerned mom until my late twenties. Right now, Bailey doesn’t see Micah’s overbearingness as care—she sees it as him underestimating her. That, I can help with.
She smirks. “That sounds perfect. Micah’s a terrible party planner, anyway.”
Micah looks like he wants to say something, but I catch his attention with a subtle shake of my head. His words won’t help right now.
