I overpowered my dad. “Katie, you are physically present,” I continued, “but we don’tseeyou. You don’t show us who you are, orevenpart of who you are. It’s been years and I still can’t name any of your interests beyond reading, watching hockey, and writing detailed Yelp reviews for brunch places.” I swallowed. “Your mom told me you played field hockey in high school—why haven’t youevertold me that? Is it now a taboo subject or something?” I laughed. “Who cares if you didn’t play in college?” I held up my hands. “And music, it seems like you’re into music? Ilovemusic.”
“Mads, lay off,” Austin said when the last part came out a bit sarcastic. “Stop grilling her. She’s…”
“Shy,” Katie filled in the blank. “I’m shy, I’m an introvert, so you have no idea how intimidating it is to meet and connect with such an extroverted family. Especially one who loves each other as much as you guys do, who enjoys talking and genuinelybeingwith each other as much as you do. Ithasbeen five years, yet Istillfeel like an outsider. I try, I really do, but I don’t evenfeellike myself when I’m here sometimes. And whatever version of me that is?” She shook her head. “She’s tired of trying to prove herself.”
Da kept his voice calm. “Katie, you don’t need to prove yourself—”
“Yes, I fucking do!” she exclaimed. “Or I was supposed to and failed miserably!” She wiped her eyes. “You tolerate me because Austin loves me, but you don’t approve.”
“What makes you say that?” Dad asked.
“I’m not Samira!”
Something grew thick in my throat. Katie—oh, Katie.
I’m not Samira.
“I know you all wish Austin was with her,” she continued. “I heard you say it.” She looked at my parents and me. “The first time I came to your Memorial Day cookout, I overheard you guys say how I was nothing like Samira, and how much youmissedSamira, and then Mads said it didn’t matter if you didn’t like me because you all knew that they’d be together in the end.”
I gulped. My parents and Ihadsaid that. Memorial Day fouryears ago had been the first occasion we’d ever spent anyrealtime with Katie, and we’d been so excited—maybetooexcited. Because while we’d met Katie before, she was pretty quiet, and we were hoping a party would unleash the fun and loving person Austin wouldn’t shut up about. I remembered how my dads and I’d powwowed at the horse pasture when that hadn’t been the case.
“Katie, all of that is true,” Da said gently. “And on behalf of everyone”—he glanced at Dad and me—“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “We just weren’t sure what to expect, since the only girl Austin had ever seriously dated was Samira. We were presumptuous in thinking he might have”—he rolled his eyes—“atype.It turned out we didn’t know his type yet, because his type wasyou.”
“And when we said we missed Samira,” Dad added, “we meant that we missed her thatevening. She was studying abroad that semester, so it’d been several months since we’d seen her. We missed her as a dear friend.” He turned to me.
“I meant what I said,” I admitted, blood thumping in my ears. “I missed Samira in our lives, and I wanted her tostayin our lives, and I wasn’t sure if that was possible if she and Austin weren’t a couple. And you’re right, I didn’t give you a fair chance because of it.” I closed my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Katie.”
Katie nodded, but she didn’t say it was okay; instead, she held up her left hand. The gleaming ice cube looked heavy on her finger. “This is agorgeousring,” she said. “But it’s not the ruby. Austin has told me so many stories about his grandmother, including how much she loved that ring. My heart dropped whenhe proposed because the ruby wasn’t in the box.” She shook her head. “You didn’t give it to him. Maybe you accepted that I’m not Samira, but I must still not be special enough.”
“Austin, why don’t you take this one?” Dad suggested.
“Katie, they have nothing to do with the ruby,” Austin said. “The ruby is mine.” He scratched the back of his head a little sheepishly. “Grandma left it to me to give to the woman I wanted to marry—and that hasalwaysbeen you.” He paused. “But you never asked to see it, and it’s a little out there, so I was worried you’d hate it. Your ring”—he pointed to the diamond—“was something I knew you’d love.”
“And I do love it, Austin,” Katie said. “Because it’s fromyou.” Her voice cracked. “But I suppose I wanted a piece of it to be from your family, too.”
We failed her, I thought, stomach sinking.We absolutely failed her.
“Catherine Marie Gallant,” I said, “the only person you need to be ‘special enough’ for is Austin, but you’re special to me, too. Youdidtry to open yourself up to us, but I didn’t try to see you—or I didn’t try my best. Even when you asked me to be one of your bridesmaids. When we played truth or dare at our sleepover, and I heard about the midnight Wawa Icees, I thought that was the coolest thing ever, and I should’ve told you that.” I took a breath. “You also care so much about the people in your life. Thank you for picking up the phone at four a.m. and taking me to the hospital—you yelling at that nurse for ice will go down in historyas one of the greatest moments in my life.” I smiled when she laughed a little. “And I know you meant well when you asked Marco to be my shadow. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that you just wanted to protect me.”
Katie reached up to wipe her eyes.
“Katie, you give me a novel every year for Christmas,” Dad said. “I have grown to adore your insightful and pithy annotations in the margins—they feel like secrets between us.” He smiled. “I also told every single client of mine that my future daughter-in-law graduated from UChicago with her MBA.”
“And I have always had a soft spot for you,” Da said. “You remind me of my mother. Pearl was a colorful character.” He nodded out the window. “She would take polar plunges in the pond whenever she thought autumn had officially turned to winter.” He smiled. “But she was also reserved and quietly remarkable with her innate kindness and cleverness.” He reached to squeeze Katie’s hands. “You are more than special enough, Katie. You arefamily.”
Katie dissolved into tears. “I want to marry Austin,” she said, choked up. “I want to marry Austin more than anything, but Ihatethis wedding. That’s why I’ve been so upset about it, and horrible to you, Austin. It isn’t me at all.”
“Then who is it?” I asked.
“My parents,” Katie answered. “Mostly my mom. She and I used to pretend-plan my dream wedding when I was little, and she refuses to accept that what I wanted then—Christmas atthe country club with a million guests—is not what I want now. Even my dress…”
Uh-oh,I worried.Looks like a pastry?
“What would you like now?” Austin asked, as if the Gallants hadn’t already spent like a hundred thousand dollars on this blessed event. “What is your dream wedding today?”
Katie smiled sadly. “You know.”
My brother smiled back, nodding. “The invitations.”
