Page 4 of Unraveling Rain
She sighs and runs a hand across her forehead.
“I should’ve worn a hat. By the time I get home, I’ll be red as a tomato,” she says, grabbing a water bottle from the stroller.
Then she turns to face me, sliding her sunglasses down her nose to meet my gaze, piercing me with her steady green stare.
“Could you benefit from going to therapy? Absolutely. It’s not a crime or a sign of weakness to seek someone to talk to and untangle whatever’s bugging your mind and your heart. But that person could never be me. I’m your sister. I’m here for all the bitching and moaning you want. But I can’t give you professional advice.”
I chuckle, but I’m grateful she’s not trying to force anything on me. She knows I’ll bolt like a black cat under distress.
“What I was thinking,” she says, sliding her sunglasses back into place as she starts walking again, “is that you could become an instructor at Serene Lookout.”
I bark out a laugh.
But when Ruin doesn’t join in, I get serious. My mouth falls open.
“Are you for real, Ru? What could I possibly teach there?”
My mind starts racing. What do I even have to offer—besides being stuck in a rough patch myself?
“Does cooking make you happy?” she asks.
The babies start moving their little hands, and Indigo starts sucking his pacifier.
Ruin sighs. “Nap time is almost over. Let’s start heading back.”
“Of course it does,” I say, circling back to our conversation. “You know that.”
“Well, it can have the same effect on others. And teaching people what you love and interacting with them might boost your mood too,” Ruin explains.
I don’t hate the idea. It might be a little terrifying, but I don’t hate it.
“I don’t know, Ru. I’m not the best with people,” I admit, suddenly feeling shy.
“Give it a try. There’s nothing to lose.”
Sage lets out a wail, and my sister rushes to take her out of the stroller. It’s incredible how calm she stays while a ten-pound baby is yelling her heart out.
Ruin takes her boob out in a move I didn’t know was possible, and Sage latches on like she’d die if she had to wait another second. Ruin grabs a tiny blanket from the stroller, covers herself, and keeps walking like nothing happened.
I love how my sister has embraced motherhood. She could give a flying fuck about all the rules and expectations society piles on moms.Don’t breastfeed in front of others. Let the baby cry it out. Sleep when the baby sleeps.Ruin does what’s best for her and her family. I’m sure having a loving, committed partner like Gio helps too.
“How do you do that? You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I’m just a mom,” she says, brushing off my compliment.
But she’s way more than just a mom. She’s a fucking rockstar.
“How many students will I have?” I ask.
Ruin does a little happy dance.
“We have two people right now, and I think one more is coming next week. A hockey player.”
I bite my lower lip, already wondering what I could teach them to cook.
“Don’t overthink it, sis,” she says. “You don’t need to come up with crazy and complicated recipes. Teach them twists on dishes they can make at home when they leave here. Fourth of July is around the corner—teach them to cook some fair food. I’m sure everyone will get a kick out of it.”
I start planning recipes and thinking about how to rearrange my schedule at the diner.
