Page 20 of Severed Rivalry
“Come on, Ellie. Your dad is being a butthead. Let’s showhim how it’s done.” With that, my sister charges ahead, leaving me to wonder how in the world I’ll handle more estrogen in my life.
Sariah
Cian: {picture message}
The image is of Denver from somewhere high along the Front Range. The day is bright and clear, and the atmosphere must be thin, because there’s no haze or cloud cover. Just a beautiful city nestled below blue skies.
Cian: The view is astounding. Last night’s was better.
Swoon.
I can’t stop the smile that bubbles up like champagne from my toes and past those flitting butterflies. I snap a picture of my red shopping cart and return his text.
Me: Agree about the views. This one is nothing comparatively. Looks like your day is treating you well.
“What’s that smile about?” Renée asks as I fight to tamp down my joy, losing and not caring one lick. She sulks at my side, all the while her attention is on her phone.
Cian: Terrible bars or I’d call. Dinner tonight still on? Pick you both up at 6:00?
Me: That works.
“Seriously, it’s weird.” My daughter, ladies and gentlemen.She has tunnel vision on the device in her hand, but somehow manages to break long enough to tease me. Or chastise me.
Cian: Anything you or Renée don’t eat?
I look at the beauty I created, as she stares at me in horror.
Me: She’s currently a vegetarian, so meat.
Cian: You too?
I want to make some comment about eating meat that would make him blush, but I’m so out of practice it could come out wrong, especially over text.
Me: Only when we share.
Cian: There’s a great Italian place not far from you. Would that work?
Me: Sounds perfect. Can’t wait. {blowing kiss emoji}
Cian: Later.
Does that mean see you later? Or does that mean he wants to kiss me later?
“Cian?”
My head whips up. Busted.
“Yep.” I slide my phone into my back pocket and turn on to the canned foods aisle. “He’s taking us to dinner tonight.”
“And you’re not going to tell me why you broke up with him,” she states with no question in her tone.
“One day, but not today.”
She huffs, turns on her tennis-shoed heel, and stomps to the feminine products section. She likes to do that alone anyway, with no input or questions. She doesn’t want to listen to me when I’ve been through it for years now and have a smidge more experience, becauseMom, talking about it is gross.
God save mefrom teenage girls.
She finds me in the cereal and baking aisle in time to drop a couple of blue boxes in the cart while trying slyly to add a box of Cocoa Pebbles.
