Page 3 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“Watch out,” I mumble. “She’s already mentioned once this morning how she has only the one grandkid, and we’re all slackers for not settling down and making babies.”
Adam laughs before tugging my ponytail. It’s a classic move from our childhood that he picked up from Dad. Except when Dad does it, it’s sweet and never hurts. I’ll get Adam back later by knocking his baseball cap off his head. “Thanks for the heads-up,” he says. “Ma! Where should I change?”
“Use Bea’s room, dear. The guest rooms have been spoken for.”
Don’t I get a say about my room? “Run before she gives you a tour of the nursery, lactation lounge, and new playroom.”
“Got it.” My brother grabs his swim trunks from his bag but stops on the stairs. “Oh, and, Mom!”
Mom stops and turns, hands on her hips. “What?”
“Thanks for letting me invite some of my friends.”
Mom beams and shoos Adam along.
My pulse quickens. Adam has invited friends? My mind flashes to a pair of honey-colored eyes inches from my own and calloused hands gently resting on my cheeks.
I untwist Portia’s bag of oranges. Their skin is dusty, and leaves cling to some of the stems. Fresh from someone’s backyard grove, no doubt. I prick my thumb on one of the green thorns, and my annoyance sours my words. “Friends or employees?”
Mom’s cheeks turn red. “Oh, don’t be crass. I wouldn’t extend the invitation if they weren’t friends too.”
“Yeah?” I’m trying hard to stay calm and keep my own cheeks from heating. The potential for soul-crushing embarrassment is too great. “Are they coming in costume?”
“No, but that would have been fun.” Mom’s voice has gone all tight.
“Is this about Adam’s business?” Drew has mixed himself and Portia each a mimosa. “Portia and I tried to get tickets for one of his escape rooms tonight, but they’re sold out. Have you been?”
“A few times.” I dig my nails into the peel of the orange. Juice seeps out, stinging the cut on my thumb. “It’s great. The Osric Manor Room is my favorite.” I’m such a liar.
“But the haunted house-style one—Malum Escape—that’s the one with all the Yelp reviews.” Drew is oblivious to the tension that is only growing in this kitchen. I hand him half my orange to shut him up.
It’s not that Dad or Mom are disappointed with Adam’s entrepreneurial endeavors.Crestfallenis the better word. Dad was completely blunt when he told Adam he wanted him to go to law school and that he could not, would not, invest the funds set aside for his law degree in a glorified carnival act. Adam said he’d find other investors, and he did. His returns are still modest, but his growth is promising. Dad still hasn’t been to see it all. He says he gets it:Every man has a reckless phase.
We’d argued over it at one of our working lunches earlier this year. Yes, not only do I still live at home, but I work for my Dad’s firm, McKinney, Rosenberg, and Wallace.
“Adam’s the opposite of reckless.”
“Portia is a lawyer. Julie is a lawyer. You’re a lawyer. Adam should be a lawyer,” Dad insisted.
“The world needs clients too, Dad.” My jokes are never appreciated. “Adam has passion and talent when it comes to business.”
“Of course he does. The boy could do anything he puts his mind to.”
“So tell him!”
Dad scoffed.“I’m not going to encourage him, especially when he still has a degree to finish. Let him work this out of his system. The law will be waiting for him when he’s ready.”
“I don’t think he wants to be a lawyer, Dad.”
“Well…then give me a chance to get the idea of having four lawyers in the family out of my system,” he grumbled.
They have all agreed to disagree. No one has spoken about it since. I’m not sure what Mom’s plan is, but maybe she’s hoping today’s festive mood and crowd she’s assembled is a safe enough space to normalize Adam’s life choices.
Meanwhile, I’m thinking about shaving my legs and wondering what I can change into without looking like I’m making any special effort.
“I hope they come in costume,” Portia says. Despite her tangerine sundress, she’s looking a little haggard. A red-eye flight from Boston will do that to a woman. “Can you imagine Dad’s face posing in the middle of all of them?
“Adam and his merry band of cosplayers,” Drew says, chuckling.
