That's the thing about being the sister, the youngest, the only girl in a family of five older brothers. You learn early how to read the room. How to hand someone the exact right thing at the exact right moment without being asked. How to fill asilence before it becomes uncomfortable, how to turn grief into laughter, how to make a stranger feel like family in under sixty seconds.
I'm good at it. I'm the best at it. And I love it. I love every minute of it.
Except for the minutes where I'm sprawled on the sofa scrolling through an endless parade of Brads and Chads and Dereks…wondering when it became so hard to find a man who could survive dinner with my family without visibly sweating.
"Iris." Tanya's voice cuts through my internal monologue. She's holding up two fabric swatches. "Sage or eucalyptus?"
I tilt my head. They look identical. "Those are the same color."
"They are not the same color. Sage has a gray undertone. Eucalyptus is warmer."
"Sage," I say, because sage sounds like something that knows what it's doing. "What's it for?"
"Nursery curtains,” she says, her attention going back to the pile of swatches she had already dismissed.
"I need more coffee,” I say. “Does anyone else need more coffee?"
Nobody says yes, but I pour four extra cups anyway because I know Grace takes hers black after two p.m., Katya has been running on decaf and fumes since Nikolai's birth, Tanya forgets to hydrate when she's working, and Nadia will accept anything warm that's placed near her without comment.
I deliver them. Nobody thanks me. Nobody needs to. This is just what I do. The coffee. The dress that needs taking in. The song when the room goes too quiet. The joke when someone's about to cry. The arm around the shoulder. The garter produced from nowhere at exactly the right moment when getting ready for a wedding.
I'm the one who makes things easier. That's my whole thing.
Ma comes into the kitchen through the back door, her eyes immediately landing on Mila as she drops several bags of shopping onto the table.
Her face falls. “I don’t believe it,” she exclaims, walking to Mila in her high chair where Grace is still pulling soft chunks of strawberry from her fine hair. “I forgot the lace!” She says animatedly. “Your Mamma is forgetful in her old age,” she adds, gently booping Mila’s button nose with the tip of her finger.
Mila claps her hands in excitement and Ma’s face lights up. She scoops Mila from her highchair and peppers kisses all over her face. “My beautiful Mila smells like strawberries,” she coos before pulling her in for a tight hug, causing the six-month-old to let out a peal of giggles.
It’s strange seeing Ma like this. I was the youngest so I never witnessed what she was like with babies. I was the baby. But since my brother’s wives began having babies it’s opened my eyes. It’s clear that ma was always supposed to be surrounded by children. She is a true matriarch. Tender and loving, and when needed, terrifyingly fierce.
I unpack the bags of shopping while she spoils Mila with tickles.
“I’ll fetch the lace, Ma,” I say. “Where is it?”
Ma looks over at me, those eagle eyes scanning over me before she finally nods. “Antonelli’s. I ordered it last week for Mila’s summer dress.” She says the last part to Mila, her voice going high and playful.
"Cool. Anyone else need anything?" I ask the room.
"Sleep," Katya says.
"Patience," Grace adds.
"A husband who will admit he has interior design opinions," Tanya mutters.
"I'll see what I can do," I reply with a grin and a waggle of my eyebrows.
I gently stroke a hand over a sleeping Eva’s back as I pass Nadia. "Drive safe,” she says, quietly.
"I always drive safe," I retort, mock offended.
"You drive like someone who learned from your brothers."
"That's fair." I grab my jacket from the back of a chair. "Back in an hour."
I check my reflection briefly in the rearview mirror. Hair acceptable. Face acceptable. Smile automatic, easy, effortless. There she is. Iris Orlova. Ready for the world outside the Orlov fortress.
The car was a gift from my brothers when I passed my driving test, and even though it’s getting on in age and costs more to run than it’s worth, I still love it.
