Page 148 of Again, In Autumn

“I should have been a better big sister,” she sniffles.

I shake my head. “It’s not your job to take care of me just because you were born first.”

We turn our heads at a sound in the doorway. David halts his movements. He frowns at me, looks at Francesca’s crying face and the untouched snacks on the table. He assesses. He understands. He’s backing away.

I laugh while she wipes her eyes with a napkin.

She says, “I wish you could have told me about Adam. I never meant to be so controlling about you not dating him.”

I lift a shoulder and lean my head. “I actually liked keeping the secret. It wasn’t about you, in the end.”

“So why didn’t you say anything for fourteen years?”

I grab a Cheeto and munch sadly. “Because he became Adam Kent. I became sad girl who bakes in her apartment that she can barely afford.”

“Oh, shut up, that’s stupid,” she argues. “He’s no better than you because he’s famous. If he loved you, which he clearly does, it’s because you’re you.”

I moan, reaching for my bowl. “I don’t know what to do about it anyways. He’s gone.”

Francesca casts her eyes around the living room. “I don’t know what to do, either. I can work on myself, but I’m no good at relationship advice. My brain’s tapped out right now. Hey, we were going to get a Christmas tree today, maybe the answer will come when we get some fresh air and get out in nature.”

I laugh, “A Christmas tree lot is not nature.”

“It’s full of trees…”

My broken little heart turns to mush. I grumble, “Maybe Adam will turn out to own the Christmas tree farm and he’ll convince me to leave the big city and that will be our beautiful, magical meet-cute.”

“What are you talking about?” she snorts.

“I’ve been watching Hallmark movies.”

Francesca shakes her head. She holds her bowl and bites a carrot in the quiet while I devour my cheesy orange snack. She finally looks at me and asks, “Do you forgive me, Vee?”

I answer, “Yes.”

“I’m not going to all of a sudden be perfect now. I’m a work in progress.”

I bump her shoulder. “Me too.” I hold out a Cheeto and she raises a carrot to meet it, cheering on our new beginning.

We got the least wimpy Christmas tree left at the farm, pickings were slim, and Heddy makes homemade pizzas while we begin to decorate. Alice gets caught up in a table of beaded garland. Grayson drops ornaments on purpose every time Francesca tells him he’s putting it in the wrong place.

Music plays at the same time that Christmas movie marathon covers the television, and the room smells like sage, evergreen and tomato sauce. The tree lights reflect off the window, making the cold bluish yard sparkle.

Grayson looks outside in the middle of decorating and gasps. “Dad, it’s going to get dark soon, I have to climb the treehouse!”

David drops his slice of pizza. “Okay then, let’s go.”

They get coats on, and I ask Francesca, “What’s that all about?”

“Part of me making amends.” She shrugs. “Dave says I’m too overly protective. He’s probably right. I told Grayson he could get into the treehouse.”

“Which he has to do right now apparently,” I laugh.

“He’s been talking about it on and off all day. I’m glad he remembered, otherwise I’d be woken up at three in the morning to him screaming about how I promised, but he forgot and I’m the worst mom ever.”

Heddy peeks her head in. “Vee Vee, what’s for dessert?”

I hold a glass rocking horse ornament in my hand. I’m happy right now, decorating, anticipating snuggling up with Alice on the couch. I don’t feel like hiding away from my family anymore. Baking and I might need a relationship adjustment.

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