Page 5 of Without Apology

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Twenty minutes later, I relayed every bit of my unexpected meeting to my sister, who was face palming while we sat at her kitchen table. She was dressed up and ready to leave for the night with her husband, but first insisted on all the details of my hot guy at the supermarket adventure.

Jen had the same shade of brown hair I did but wore it quite a bit shorter, a length she insisted was a consequence of having babies and no time to style your hair daily. I guess that meant I was screwed since I could hardly be bothered now. She was older than me by five years and had met her husband in high school when they were both fifteen. To this day, he practically worshipped her and seemed to take genetic predisposition for crazy in stride.

“You left it with ‘cheers’ to the Brit? You’re seriously terrible at this,” she admonished on a sigh. Jen wasn’t one to mince words.

“Your comments via the speakerphone didn’t exactly help me out, sis.”

My brother-in-law, Kevin, looking much as he had in high school, with his sandy blond hair and baby face, came in from the living room and patted my head. “Maybe he thought you were only making fun of him.”

I groaned. “That’s even worse. And now I feel awful postponing your anniversary night by retelling the story of the guy who most likely will never call.”

“No worries. It’s not as though Kevin hasn’t seen my vagina plenty, so an extra half hour won’t kill him. Speaking of which, you should probably schedule with your waxer, Peyton. Better safe than sorry if he does ask you out.”

You’d think after all these years of dealing with a sister who had no filter I’d be accustomed to her ability to embarrass me. “Jesus, Jen. Not only do I not want to talk about your vagina, but I’m certainly not talking about mine.”

My brother-in-law clinked his soda against mine. “Cheers to that thought. With any luck, this guy will overlook your crazy family and give you a call. At least he wasn’t intimidated by Cooper, unlike the last loser you dated. No offense.”

“Some taken,” I muttered since I’d been the one actually to date said loser. How was I supposed to know the guy had a fear of dogs, and when he came to pick me up for a second date, Cooper would send him running out to his car, where he wouldn’t do more than crack a window to talk to me? Ugh. My dating life was practically nonexistent these days. But in my defense, I spent most of my free time with my dog or family. Besides, first dates were typically—at least in my experience—excruciating.

“Why was he in town?”

I shrugged. “He mentioned something about a dinner. Seemed rude to ask more, and I was distracted by, well, him.”

“Hey, did you apply for the CFO job yet or what?” Jen inquired, giving me whiplash with the change in subject.

Because she’d practically raised me after our parents died when I was fourteen, she often took on a parental thing of trying to guide and advise my life decisions.

Nothing like feeling as though everyone would be let down if I didn’t apply for that damn position. “Not yet.”

“Come on, sis. You’re more than qualified. You definitely have Dad’s brain for numbers.”

Our father had been a successful CFO of a Fortune 500 company. All through school, my family would tease me that I had the same affinity he did for numbers. But when he’d been alive, he’d worked a lot of hours, taking him away from his family for weeks at a time. The last thing I wanted was to be pressured into taking the job.

“Yes. I will. But enough about me already. You guys go.”

“All right. We’ll talk later. Call us if you need anything tonight with the girls,” Jen offered, giving me a hug. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“I prefer a text,” Kevin quipped with a wink. He gave my shoulder a brotherly squeeze and ushered my sister out before she delayed one more minute.

Going into the back yard, I clapped my hands for the girls. “Who wants to make cookies?”

I might not ever hear from Brexy or be the next CFO, but at least I’d always be the most awesome aunt, particularly tonight when three little girls with exuberant faces came running in.

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