Page 11 of The Prettiest Outlaw

Jianna gave me a sympathetic smile as she cut both pancakes and sausages into bite size pieces for my nephew, Gianpaolo, who we called Gio and my nieces, Giada and Ginelle.

“Give it a chance to get started, Juli. I mean, we’re only two weeks into January.”

“And so far, it already sucks.”

“Yeah.”

She set a plate down in front of my four-year-old nephew, and then his three-year-old sister, who were at the wooden dining table in their booster chairs. She then walked over to thirteen-month-old Ginelle and placed a few pieces of pancake and sausage onto the tray of the high chair.

“But still, there’s a lot of year left for it to turn around. You want some breakfast?”

“Nah.”

I watched my sister move around her kitchen. Of my two sisters, I was closest to Jianna. Part of that was simply because we were closest in age. She was four years old when I was born, Jia was ten. Jia was out of the house and married to Langston before I’d even finished elementary school. We didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other before she left home. Besides that, Jia was naturally bossy and controlling. I was naturally defiant and oppositional. Jia and I bumped heads a lot. I loved and respected her, but I was definitely closer to Jianna.

The thing about Jianna was that she was a certified genius. Her brain power and abilities were way above average, but she was very down to Earth, and she really wasn’t judgy. I just loved her.

“You look very comfortable doing your wholedomesticationthing. You seem okay with giving up the time you used to use for acquiring untold knowledge to mother your kids.”

We both giggled.

“Forget you, Juli. I love raising my kids.” She rubbed her non-existent pregnant stomach. “But I still make time to acquire untold knowledge. Just not as much.” She finished fixing a plate for herself then sat down one chair away from me. “We didn’t get to talk on New Year’s Eve. Tell me about Christmas in Iredia.”

“Christmas in Iredia was good. It was like it wasn’t even Christmas there. It felt more like summer. All I did was lay on the beach, sip cocktails, talk with my therapist as needed, and relax.”

“So, you didn’t miss us at all? We missed you.” She huffed out a heavy sigh. “It’s hard making new memories for a holiday that already has so many memories attached to it. But you know what’s even harder?”

“What?”

“Trying to do it while one of the integral members of your family is purposely pulling away.”

She was staring at me. Her eyes were soft and probing. It was like she could see into my soul. Since it seemed like she could read my thoughts anyway, I just went ahead and shared them with her.

“The holiday season, from Thanksgiving to New Year's Day, makes me feel like I’m drowning. I would love to make new memories with you guys. I would love to bake homemade goodies with my nephews and my nieces when they’re old enough. I would love to come over early in the morning and watch them open their presents. I would love to drive around this neighborhood and ooh and ahh over the light displays or go to the parade downtown. But all of the stuff makes me feel…I don’t know, Bunny.” I called her by her familial nickname. “When those things are over, you and Jia go home to your husbands and your children. I go home to an empty place.”

I licked my lips, which had become inexplicably dry then remembered that I had lip balm. I fished around in my purse while I continued.

“Dolton and Langston cornered me at the fundraiser on New Year’s Eve.” I eyed her suspiciously. “As if you weren’t aware. And I told them the exact same thing. Sometimes being around you guys is…overwhelming.”

She left her stool, walked over to me, and wrapped me up in a big hug.

“I love you, Juli. The last thing I ever want to do is make you feel overwhelmed or more alone than being single probably makes you feel at the holidays. I just want you in my memories and my children's memories. It’s selfish, but I want them to be able to remember how Auntie Juli made whatever with us or went wherever with us every Christmas. At this point, all they’re gonna say is how they remembered momma driving Auntie Juli to the airport every Christmas.”

“Sorry.” I was, but I had to put my peace first.

She sat back down in front of her plate. “What have you been doing since New Year’s Eve?”

“Practicing recipes.”

Since graduating from college with a degree in communications that I never really planned to use, I’d been floating through life. My father bankrolled my lifestyle, giving me a hefty “allowance” each month to do my thing. When we lost my father, my mother stepped into his shoes, and the allowance never faltered.

I never worried about holding down a job. I flitted from job to job the same way a butterfly flitted from flower to flower. I tried my hand at any and everything that interested me. I did hair, nails, and makeup. I got licensed and tried selling real estate. I worked for Jianna as a receptionist. I worked for Jia as a nanny. I even worked for my mom and her new guy as a travel expert. I sold five-dollar jewelry, lashes, and nail polish wraps. I made custom t-shirts. I even sold and rented purses from my own collection. Every single endeavor came and went within a few months.

In between trying my hand at different small business ventures, I took classes—cooking classes, sewing classes, painting classes, jewelry making classes, crafting classes, and even pottery making classes. Nothing seemed like anything I really enjoyed or that I could see myself maintaining for any real length of time. Until I took a cupcake, cookie baking, and decorating class. An eight-week introduction into a world of creativity that I had never given two thoughts had opened my eyes.

“You’re gonna have to let us taste some cupcakes and cookies one of these days, Juli.”

“I’m still practicing,” I insisted, though I had beenpracticingfor over six months now.

---