“As I was saying, I know our relationship from the outside looking in can be seen as… dysfunctional.”
I was thinking diabolical, but go off, sis.
“But when I lay my head down at night, wrap my arms around my flower, and breathe her in? I can’t think of any other place I would rather be. She’s my world. She’s always been ever since she shoved me into that ball pit at the jump place when we first met.”
How touching.
“And maybe… this is a strong maybe… maybe we should seek therapy because I don’t want twenty-five years to go down the drain, and I damn sure don’t want to see Daisy with anyone else. She makes everything better. She makes a can of Sprite taste like it came from McDonald’s.”
This woman is high. She has to be.
“I’ll do better, Kiyah… I promise,” Nori declared, giving me her puppy dog eyes of watery steel. I placed my free hand on her shoulder and dug my thumb into a nerve. “Fuck, Kiyah! What the hell are you doing?” she squealed, squirming under the pressure.
“Shut the hell up,” I hissed. “You’re causing a scene.”
“It hurts. Let me go,” she whined.
“I will in a second… relax,” I said, relieving some of the pressure. She finally stilled and stopped making a spectacle of herself. “I enjoyed your little impassioned speech, but it’s not enough to say the words; you need to show it. If I hear that you put your hands on my sister again, and it’s not because you’re wrapped in a loving embrace, then I’m kicking your ass. Do you understand me?” I said, digging my thumb in again.
“I got it. I got it. Let me go,” Nori pleaded. I released her, and she immediately massaged her shoulder. “Jesus, Kiyah. How am I supposed to do keg stands tomorrow with a screwed-up shoulder?”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
Nori glared at me and rolled her shoulder. “Come on. Let me introduce you to your wedding date and future husband.”
My nose crinkled in immediate revulsion, and my head swiveled from side to side like a prairie dog as I looked for my husband, who seemed to have pulled a disappearing act.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, penetrating the circle. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my sister-in-law, Kiyah. She rides motorcycles, too,” Nori said, introducing me with a wide smile. I did a quick assessment. He was the typical finance bro—clean-cut, with a sharp suit and a slick smile.
I prefer my men frowning.
“It’s lovely to meet a fellow daredevil. I’m Maverick. It’s nice to meet you, Kiyah,” he said, offering his hand.
“Sorry, I have my hands full,” I replied, showing him my plate.
Nori cleared her throat. “Kiyah, Maverick is new to Powell Investments. We acquired him from Blackstone Investments.”
Is that supposed to impress me? The man’s name is Maverick. Okay, Top Gun.
“That’s… something,” I replied, mumbling around a shrimp. Grandma would verbally tan my hide if she witnessed me behaving so unladylike.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked.
“She’s a housewife,” Grant said from behind me. My mouth gaped along with Nori’s, and I was dragged away for the second time in twenty minutes.
“Grant, slow down,” I voiced, stumbling behind him as he led me out of the hall by my arm. We were outside again, but thistime we weren’t by ourselves. Dad smoked his cigarette down to the filter before dropping it on the ground and snuffing it out with his shoe. I glanced furtively at Grant, and he mouthed, “He knows.”
Well…damn.
“Thank you for joining us, Mrs. Baker,” Dad said facetiously.
“I’m glad to be here,” I responded in kind.
“Let’s cut the bullshit. I’m hurt that you both hid this, and I can’t imagine how your mother will feel when she finds out. And maybe our feelings don’t fucking matter in all of this, but it hurts to know that the children you raised do not trust you and shut you out of one of the biggest milestones of their lives. As parents, we raise you with the understanding that one day, you’ll leave the house, pursue careers, and be lucky enough to meet someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. As a parent, you want to see your children be loved and celebrate that with them. It’s a silent validation that you did your job.”
He fell silent, and the seafood in my stomach churned and threatened to come back up.
“Dad… I’m sorry,” Grant apologized. Dad nodded.