Over at the table, Dad’s laptop chimed. “Austin messaged they’ll be here in ten. Make it a mission, Mads. Not a meander.”
“Roger that.” I dug in the fridge for some carrots and thencaught an apple Da tossed me from the fruit bowl. My brother and Katie had gotten home yesterday and were coming for dinner tonight. They lived forty-five minutes away in Philadelphia; Austin was halfway through his third year of dental school at the University of Pennsylvania. He’d always liked working with his hands and found teeth strangely fascinating, but I never let him forget he was going to someday star in a bunch of children’s nightmares. He always retaliated by tickling and teasing me about all the times I’d dreamt about my orthodontist taking a hammer to my teeth.
Despite myself, I smiled at the memory as I pulled on my rusty red-orange-and-black-plaid wool coat and favorite Carhartt beanie. Austin, he was the best. Not only the best brother or my best friend—justthe best. And it felt like I hadn’t seen him in forever.I’m going to tackle him, I decided, the mudroom door slamming behind me.When he gets out of the car, I’m going to tackle him into the snow.
I could already hear us laughing.
***
My family and I lived on twenty acres near the Delaware River in Pennsylvania. Our farmhouse had been built in 1774, and while there had certainly been a couple renovations, it still stood tall centuries later. It was white with two brick chimneys, black shutters, a bright red front door, and a wide porch that overlookedthe front lawn (that I had more or less turned into a field hockey practice field), the horses’ rolling pasture, and beyond that, a small pond. Ducks flocked there in the springtime, and when it froze in the winter, Austin and I skated on it until our cheeks and toes went numb from the cold.
It was frozen now. After a busy Jingle Bells season with our backyard Christmas tree farm, pine and spruce trees planted everywhere, we’d rung in the new year several days ago with a snowstorm. Da had plowed and salted our long driveway enough to come and go, but it was still caked with ice and snow. I tucked my tingling nose into my scarf as I trudged through the snowy dunes, our front barn growing larger with each step. Dad was a Realtor and had the shortest commute ever; he and his partners had gutted and converted the barn into their office space after starting their own firm. THE CHEVAL COLLECTIVE, the snow-frosted masthead over the door read.
Chevalwas French forhorse. Because years ago, horses had been Dad’s life. He’d grown up riding and competing, and in his twenties, had been a three-day eventer on the U.S. Equestrian Team. “And then I really wrecked my back and needed serious surgery…” was how he finished when telling the story at dinner parties.
“But it ended up being a total win,” Da would chime in, “because if he hadn’t needed that operation, he wouldn’t have met me!”
Da was technically Dr. Lee Fisher, orthopedic spine surgeon.He’d done such a fantastic job on Dad’s back that he could still ride casually these days. We had three horses. Tally-Ho, our chestnut mare, crossed the paddock when I leaned against the split-rail fence. “Looking good, Tal,” I said as she nuzzled me, toasty in her tartan blanket. She knew I had treats.
I fed Tally an apple, and when Chip and Chop wandered over, I gave them the carrots. While they munched, I stared out at the pasture and imagined Austin here four summers ago with Katie. He was twenty, she’d been twenty-one. My brother had taken her horseback riding the first time she’d come to our house. Dad and I’d watched from the porch as Austin expertly saddled up Chip for Katie, and when she hadn’t been able to mount the palomino herself, he’d put both hands on her waist and swept her up into the saddle.
“You think that’s amove?” I’d asked, sipping a glass of Da’s homemade lemonade. It hadn’t looked like Katie had even tried.
I really thought Austin would’ve proposed to Katie right here, not inParis. It was so professional-athlete-proposing-to-his-supermodel-girlfriend, so Bachelor Nation and reality TV, sonotmy brother. He was easygoing and low-key. And, I mean, Katie was obsessed with the horses. She was always dragging Austin out of the house and over here for visits. I was pretty sure she liked them more than she likedme.
Which is fair, I thought, rubbing Tally’s muzzle,because I like the horses more than I like Katie.
Tally snorted as if I’d confessed that aloud.
“Oh, shit, I don’t mean it,” I breathed, my spine straightening. “Of course, I don’t mean it! She’s Katie… She’s nice… She’s smart… She’s…?” I floundered in front of the horse, who was definitely giving me a capital-Llook. I sighed. “Austin loves—”
Someone laying on their car horn made me drop off; I whipped around to face the house, just in time to catch my brother bursting out of his blue Mazda. “MADELINE FISHER-MICHAELS!” he called. “WHERE IS MY HUGE-ASS CONGRATULATORY HUG?”
***
We rarely ate in the farmhouse’s formal dining room, but tonight was a different story. Tonight, we were celebrating. Earlier I’d set five place settings with Nana’s wedding china and silver. “This is interesting,” Katie remarked as Austin pulled back her chair for her. She gestured at her plate, white with a thick teal band decorated with silver flowers. The soup bowls matched perfectly. Totally retro. “Very…” She searched for another adjective as she sat down, Austin squeezing her shoulders before taking his own seat. “Interesting,” she repeated.
“Thank you,” Dad said. “They were my mother’s, and apparently quite fashionable at the time.” He smirked. “She wanted them out of her sight the second her divorce was finalized.”
Austin laughed. Thanks to our congratulatory hug-turned-snowy-wrestling-match, he was wearing an old gray sweatshirtand faded pajama bottoms while his wet clothes took a spin in the dryer. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “Didn’t she leave them outside your apartment one day?”
Dad nodded. “The note said,For Lee’s dinners, because you’re marrying him.”
“And here we are.” Da smiled and shook his head, then gestured to the food. Soup and salad with warm crusty bread. “Let’s dish up!”
It wasn’t until dessert that Austin and Katie’s engagement was mentioned. Austin spoke about France all throughout dinner, and I admit, he made me want to visit someday. It sounded extraordinary. Even our parents exchanged a look and simultaneously said, “Anniversary trip?”
“How about afamily vacation?” I suggested. “I wouldn’t mind checking it out myself.”
“The wedding was gigantic,” Austin added. “Three hundred people.”
“It was actually two-fifty.” Katie took a sip of water. Her cousin had gotten married in a palatial chateau right outside Paris. “Everything about it was magical.”
“Really?” Dad asked. “How so?”
“Oh…well…” Katie began, and I resisted the urge to tilt my head back and sigh. Katie—to use her word, she wasinteresting. I wished I could just stamp her asshy, but she was more complex than that. Reserved, maybe? Removed? It felt like whenever you talked to her, you were traveling on a road that led to nowhere. I’donce mentioned to Austin that instead of working in marketing, Katie should consider a career as an audiobook narrator, or start a podcast on the side. “Really?” He’d looked bemused. “What genre are we talking?”
“Bedtime stories,” I replied. “She could lull any insomniac to sleep.”
