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“But, hey,” Spencer continued, “maybe if you finally come out on top with this one, you’ll have enough experience so Dad doesn’t have to get you your jobs anymore.”

That was a low blow. But then, it was true, which was why no one came to her defense.

Winnie had tried to be herself around her family, but she had always been the odd one out. The one who’d failed out of medical school due to the smell of cadavers. The one who’d failed to become a chef due to not knowing the difference between baking powder and baking soda. The one who couldn’t be a dental hygienist, a teacher, a computer programmer, or a thousand other things under the sun, all for one weird reason after another.

And the one thing she’d actually been good at—the one thing she’d actually wanted to pursue? That hadn’t been good enough for a Knox.

But hey, she was a successful consultant. Of course, she was still bearing the brunt of her family’s jokes. Never mind that her feelings were hurt continuously. At least the rest of them fit in, right?

To her relief, the conversation soon shifted away from her, and she lost interest as Dad spoke again, recounting their latest court win. Her eyes wandered away from the screen as she mentally listed pleasant things around her to bring back the peace she’d felt before.

The sunshine on her cheeks. Brown and blue birds flying overhead, chasing each other across clear skies. A couple smiling at each other as they walked their creamy-colored dog that sniffed along the dirt path. A family playing in the grass beyond her with a soccer ball, two girls giggling as they ran across the grass.

“No hands!” shouted the father in the fields, his back to Winnie as he propped his hands on his hips.

His daughters, who had to be younger than six, ran toward the ball he’d just kicked, then picked it up again with their hands.

“I said, no hands, munchkins!” the father shouted again.

His voice was loud, but the exaggeration to his gruff tone and the laughter from the girls revealed this was part of the game as much as kicking the ball was.

The dad chased after them, and Winnie smiled as the girls ran away with delighted squeals.

A buzz in her hand drew her attention back to her phone and the conversation occurring in her earbuds—Mom speaking of the upcoming family reunion that year skiing in Park City.

Winnie hardly heard, her eye catching on the text message that popped down from the top of her screen instead.

Still on the call, she read the message from her older sister.

Sarah

You okay?

Good, ole Sarah. Winnie should’ve known she’d reach out.

Winnie loved all of her siblings, but she’d always liked Sarah the best. She had been the most inclusive of Winnie’s different sensibilities. She didn’t judge her for not being married, not having children, not knowing what she wanted to do in life.

Mostly, in part, because Sarah was the same way. Childless. Husbandless. She’d only fallen into becoming a software engineer in the last few years, but it had bumped her up in Dad’s estimations instantly. Winnie had always believed the real reason Sarah remained single was because it was easier to have Dad’s approval for her success as an engineer than it was to find his approval for marrying someone.

Winnie tapped out a quick response.

Winnie

Yeah, I’m fine.

Sarah

I just wanted to check after Spencer’s jerk comments. So typical of him to be so stuck-up.

Winnie looked back to the video call. Mom still rattled on about all the skiing trips she’d taken over the years and which one was her favorite and how this year would trump them all.

Winnie

Sadly enough, I’m used to his being a butthead. Thanks for checking, though.

Sarah laughed at Winnie’s text, no doubt with her use of the insult “butthead,” which had fallen out of existence in the last twenty or so years.

She moved back to the video chat, noting Sarah’s eyes averted as she texted instead of listened, too.