Page 106 of If My Wishes Came True
When I open the door for Christy, she’s got a huge grin on her face, and an even larger cup of takeout coffee.
“Late night?” I ask as she strolls into my place and makes a beeline for the couch.
She takes a seat, then looks at me, biting her lip. “I know this is your big day, Jenna, and I don’t want to make this about me…”
I plop down next to her, my eyes wide with excitement. “What happened?”
I’ve never seen my sister like this before. She has the glow of a woman in love. I wonder if she met someone she had an instant connection with—the way I felt, when I ran into Charlie.
“Well,” she begins, her freckled cheeks flushing. “Sam and I went to the bar at the Sofitel hotel last night, and we met a group of guys who were in town for their friend’s bachelor party. And the best man, who wasextremelyattractive, told me he had a thing for redheads, and long story short…”
“Yes?” I ask as my sister lets out a dreamy sigh.
“I had the most amazing one-night stand,” she tells me, flipping her wavy hair.
Oh.
So, she’s not in love. But this is good, too. When she moved to Chicago back in January, Christy decided she wanted to play the field for a bit. After eight years with Kyle—the first and only guy she’d ever slept with—she needed to know what else was out there. But dating in the Windy City is challenging in the dead of winter, when Chicagoans rarely leave their homes unless they have to. So my sister’s journey to find good sex got off to a slow start. She had more luck meeting men in the spring, but the first guy she brought home finished so fast, she wound up driving him home at nine, then spending the night inmybed, crying.
Her next few experiences happened over the summer, while I was in Italy with Charlie. That’s when Sam took Christy under her wing and they became close friends. My sister had a lot of fun, and added some notches to her bedpost—though she described the trysts as “good, but not earth-shattering.” I could relate, since the earth never shattered for me either, before I slept with Charlie.
“I think part of the reason last night was so great is because I feel more comfortable, now that I’ve been with a handful of guys. But this man wastalented.” She blushes again. “It was amazing.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I say, smiling. “But if it was so good, why not see him again? Does it have to be a one-night stand?”
She shrugs. “He lives in Austin. Plus, we have absolutely nothing in common, outside of enjoying each other’s bodies. He’s a tech guy, and he doesn’t read for pleasure. You know how hard that was for me, with Kyle. On the nights we weren’t having sex—which were aplenty—I would’ve loved to just read next to each other in bed, and talk about our books. Maybe it’s silly, but reading is my life. It’s my jobandmy passion, and I want to share that with the man I end up with. But Kyle took no interest in my work at all. If I ever tried to read him something beautiful from one of the manuscripts I was reviewing, he’d roll over and start snoring before I’d even finished the first paragraph.”
“I know how important that connection is for you. And I get it. It’s like me and Charlie—we can talk about art for hours. I love that.”
“Speaking of Charlie…I bet he’s so excited for tonight.”
“He’s been counting down the days,” I say with a smile.
“And how are you feeling?” she asks, her hand on my knee.
I sigh. “Excited. Nervous. I keep worrying about my dress.”
Christy’s brow wrinkles. “Your dress is gorgeous. What’s there to worry about?”
“You don’t think it’s too much? Maybe I should’ve gone with something a little less dramatic.”
She scoffs. “It’syourday. You’re supposed to look like a movie star.”
I laugh. “It’s my art show—not my wedding.”
“It’s your firstsoloart show,” she reminds me. “This is a big deal.”
“I know it is,” I admit, my heart fluttering. “That’s why my palms are so sweaty. I just wish Mom were coming. She’s been doing so well since she started therapy and meds—I really thought she’d come for the weekend.”
“You should have asked her again,” my sister scolds me.
“I asked herthreetimes,” I insist. “She just doesn’t want to leave Dad—and it’s not like he’d ever consider coming. Art shows aren’t the type of accomplishment he’ll brag about to his colleagues.”
Christy grits her teeth at the mention of our father, then takes my hand. “Well, it’s going to be an incredible night, I guarantee it. There are plenty of people coming to support you. And this time you don’t have to waste a second worrying about Charlie’s intentions. I know he did the hard work to get here…but I don’t think he would’ve quit Sutton’s and become a photographer if you hadn’t pushed him. I see how grateful he is, every time he looks at you. That man loves you with his entire heart and soul.”
“Trust me, I know,” I say, my eyes glistening. “And to think—I almost gave upon finding him.”
Christy and I arrive at the gallery an hour before the show. Tati Marie and Odette, who’ve basically become my surrogate aunts over this past year, are putting the finishing touches on a floral arrangement by the front door.
