Winter
One
“How many times are you going to watch that?”
I looked up from my phone, eyes flashing to my dad over at the stove. Lee was thoughtfully stirring a pot of his famous chicken-and-rice soup. “What?” I shrugged as if I had no idea what he was talking about. “I’m just scrolling.”
“More liketrolling,” my other dad commented from across the kitchen. Per usual, Harry was wearing his favorite pair of Warby Parkers and sitting with his MacBook at our long oak table, reading and revising contracts for his various property listings.
“Your father’s right, Madeline,” Lee said. “Watching the same video over and over is more akin to trolling, not scrolling.” He paused to comically narrow his eyes. “You haven’t posted something snarky, have you?”
“No, Da.” I smiled and shook my head. Lee was “Da,” because my older brother, Austin, hadn’t been able to say the fulldadwhen he was little, and by the time he’d finally grasped it, Harry had been holding him. A clear sign, apparently, that Harry was meant to be “Dad” and Lee was officially “Da.”
The Fisher-Michaels family rolled with it.
My comment on the aforementioned Instagram Reel had been a short and sweet emoji combination: a starry-eyed smiley face followed by confetti and a popping champagne bottle. It was nothing compared to the seemingly endless stream of comments that kept the online celebration raging.
@amber.kovac: Wowweeee!! Congrats!! <3
Triple fire emojis from@heelyj.
What’s the hashtag?asked@nate_the_great.
IM NOT CRYING, my thirteen-year-old cousin had written.
@mfoxwsaid,The Married Club has jackets!
And from one of Austin’s best friends:Way to ruin things for the rest of us, man…
Or, in other words:Major congratulations, but did you really need to set the bar so high?
Two days ago, my brother had proposed to his girlfriend. And not only did he propose, but he proposed in freakingParis. He and Katie and her family had spent two weeks there for some relative’s wedding, and on their last day…
My parents groaned when I replayed the video. Paris was gorgeous in the winter. Someone’s drone had captured the city—the Eiffel Tower, the Musée d’Orsay, and other elegant limestone buildings dusted with snow. Even in the new year, Christmas markets still bustled and people sipped hot chocolate while iceskating. A classic piano riff had been edited in as background music, and we were soon treated to a sweeping shot of the Seine before the camera cut to Katie wandering along the river. Her long blond hair had been curled to beach-wave perfection and she wore a timeless white peacoat. Her choice of high-heeled boots was proof that she didn’t exactly have serious plans to go on a walk.
“Shehadto have known!” I exclaimed to no dad in particular.
“Shetotallyknew!” they exclaimed back for the millionth time.
And then there, at a turn in the stone pathway, was my brother on a bridge adorned with greenery and twinkle lights. His unkempt brown hair refused to stay combed back, but he looked so handsome with his dimpled grin. Katie ran—or tottered, in those shoes—toward him. The piano still played, so you couldn’t hear any words exchanged, but ten heartbeats after Austin had gotten down on one knee, he was back on his feet and spinning Katie around as they kissed.
And they lived happily ever after!anyone would think.
The video ended, but the scene did not—pictures had later been posted of Katie’s parents and grandparents and random relatives at a fancy restaurant with the happy couple. They were all laughing and smiling while raising glasses of bubbly.
Objectively, it looked like a fairy-tale engagement.
But subjectively, it sucked that my family hadn’t been a part of it. We knew—I mean, of course we knew that it was on thehorizon. My brother and his girlfriend had been together five years, and Austin had even come home a couple months ago to ask our parents for advice on how to approach Katie’s father for his blessing. (I may or may not have been eavesdropping from the top of the staircase.)
Like I said, we knew it was coming.
Paris, though? That was a blindside. “Wasn’t it his plan to propose in the pasture?” Dad said after we’d originally watched the Reel. “Didn’t he say he wanted it to be a meaningful place?”
Da and I hadn’t responded.Congratulations!I’d texted Austin later, even though I was kind of pissed at him for not telling us. It was his moment, not mine.Get ready for a huge-ass hug when you get home!!!
“I’m going for a walk,” I said suddenly, dragging myself up from my spot on the warm kitchen floor. Its radiant heating was forever too tempting to ignore. I loved stretching out on the tile like a starfish and letting my eyes drift shut, especially in the early mornings before school. Arthur and Francine, our two black Newfoundlands, were currently passed out. Francine snored loudly while Arthur twitched, probably in the middle of a dream.
“Alright.” Da nodded as he taste tested the soup. He adjusted one of the stovetop’s knobs, a signal that dinner was almost ready. A pang of hunger hit me.
