Elly smiled kindly at Dennis. “You might have to take some of that home. Their portions are really big.”
Dennis bit his lip and looked away nervously. “Did I order too much?”
Elly felt her heart clench. Had she made him feel bad? “No, no, not at all; I’m sure you are very hungry. You’ve had a long journey.”
Dennis lifted and dropped his shoulders. “I guess.”
Elly was reaching desperately for conversation. “So, you don’t like Celine Dion.”
He grinned. “Obviously.”
“What kind of music do you like?”
Dennis leaned back in his chair. “Um, I like a lot of bands and music, I guess. I like punk, mostly. You know, the Ramones or The Clash?”
Elly tried to look like not only did she know these bands, but that she enjoyed them. “Oh yeah, totally.”
“Nice. I love Dead Kennedys and Bad Religion. Do you know Propagandhi?”
Elly nodded, totally lost. Was he talking about propaganda? Or was that the name of the band?
“Well, they were this Canadian band, none of that bubble gum anarchy stuff. They are really big in the Canadian live punk scene.”
“Oh, well, how interesting.” Elly was vaguely aware of how much she sounded like a grandmother. They paused for a minute as Carlie put their drinks down and flounced off, her short shorts taunting Dennis with each jiggle.
“What kind of music do you like, I mean, besides Celine Dion?”
“Oh, I don’t really like her. I just know that song.” She was lying again.
“Well, you seemed to know it really well.” Dennis gave a chuckle. Think, she told herself, what are some of the weird artists that Isaac, her ex-boyfriend/self-indulgent musician used to listen to? She drew a blank. “I like the Beatles.”
He gave her an exasperated look. “Sellouts.”
Elly tapped her fingers on her lips nervously. Dennis stared at her. “I do that.” He said, without any emotion. “My dad does … he did that, too. You know, he used to. Before he died.”
“Oh.” Elly tucked her hands into her lap. “Sorry.”
“No, I mean, it’s actually nice to see. That we do the same thing. You know.”
Elly saw fat tears well up in his large eyes before he blinked them quickly away. Tell me everything about you, she wanted to demand. Who are you? What do you think about me? What happens next? She couldn’t believe that with all the questions bursting from her chest that they were chatting about bands. This is ridiculous. Maybe I’ll try to talk to him about something real while we eat, she decided.
Dennis fiddled with his napkin, ripping it into tiny pieces. “So, do you like The X-Files?”
“What?”
“The X-Files, it’s like an old show, they play it in reruns all the time?”
“Oh … I don’t really watch TV. I mean, I do every once in a while. I like shows where all the women date the one guy and get a rose at the end….”
Dennis looked disgusted. “That stuff is such trash.” Then his face went from snide to regretful. They sat in silence, the most awkward moment of Elly’s life. This was definitely not how she pictured starting a relationship with her new brother.
Carlie finally brought their food, which Dennis proceeded to consume ravenously, barbecue sauce dripping down his chin onto his lap. He’s like a feral animal.
Elly took a bite of her chicken sandwich, chewing slowly, and attempted to look casual. “So, what is your plan?”
Dennis looked up from his burger, alarmed. “My plan?”
Elly tried to look nonchalant as she sipped her iced tea. “Yeah, you know, I mean, what do you plan to do after this?”
He stared back at her, his eyes looking panicked. “My plan was to find you.” Without any warning, Dennis violently shoved his plate away. “So I guess you want me to get out of your hair right?”
Elly’s heart began to twist in her chest. “No, not at all, I’m so happy to meet you….”
“And now you can move on with your life, huh? With your jerkbag boyfriend and your spoiled-brat flower shop? Don’t want some … fat loser hanging around you?” Dennis’s vulnerability was etched into every harsh word.
“No, wait, what? Dennis, slow down….” What was happening? Elly desperately reached for his hand.
He pulled it back violently. “I’m not your charity case!” he snapped. “If you don’t want anything to do with me, you should have just said so, and not taken me out to dinner to tell me.” He went to stand up in the booth, but his large tummy got caught, making the table lurch up forcefully. Elly’s elbow ended up in a pile of barbecue sauce. “Dammit!” he cried, shoving himself out of the booth and running out the door.
Elly sat at the table, stunned, barbecue sauce dripping down her bare arm. What just happened?
Carlie walked over to the table. “Um, is everything okay?”
Elly stood up. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just….” She took a deep breath. Say it. “My brother was upset, I … I have to go get him.”
Carlie looked uncomfortable. “I can’t let you leave without paying.”
Elly gave her a desperate look as she grabbed her purse. “I’m coming right back, I promise.”
Carlie shook her head. “Since we’re close to the college, we get a lot of people who eat and run.”
Elly fumbled madly with her purse. “Do I look like one of those people? Here, just hold on to my credit card, then. I promise we’ll be back.” She looked longingly at her chicken sandwich. “And don’t clear the table.” Then she raced out the door.
Outside Blueberry Hill, the street was full of leggy college students laughing and smoking, making their plans for the evening. Elly looked up and down the street frantically. Down the winding street, she saw a young man dressed in a black T-shirt turn into an alley. He was walking quickly and wiping his nose. Dennis. Elly ran up the street after him, her sandals clipping sharply across the pavement. She had never run this fast in her life. It occurred to her that this was the second time now she had chased after Dennis. Calves burning, Elly rounded the corner to the alley. Dennis sat against a dumpster, folded arms wrapped around his chest, his greasy forehead against his wrist.
Elly approached him slowly. “Dennis….” He looked up at the wall to avoid her eyes. Elly took a deep gulp of air. “Hold on, I need to breathe. I’m not used to running.”
Dennis looked away from her. “Me, either.”
Elly bent over and put her hands on her knees, inhaling thick mouthfuls of air. She sat down by him after pushing an old diaper away with her shoe. Dennis still wouldn’t look at her. With small wheezes, Elly put her hand on his arm. He flinched at her touch, and it broke her heart into a thousand pieces. “I’m sorry I asked about your plans. I shouldn’t have—I know that your plan was to find me. I was just trying to make conversation.”
Dennis let out a loud sniff.
“And, you might not believe me, but I’m glad you did. Find me.”
He stared at the ground.
“I want to get to know you. Everything about you.”
Dennis nodded, his arms hanging limply over his knees. “There’s nothing to know. I’m a fat loser orphan.”
She settled against the dumpster, trying her best to ignore the scent of rotted fruit. “Look, we both have no idea what we are doing here. I don’t know how to be a sister. I didn’t even know you existed until a week ago. The one person I’d like to talk about it with is my mother, and she has been gone for years. So I’m fumbling, too. It’s going to be awkward and weird for us for a while, but I’m willing to take the good with the bad if you are.” Elly smiled. “I have a brother. It’s completely bizarre, but in a good way. You went through a lot to find me and I am so glad. I’m sorry about the strained conversation in there. I was trying to make you think that I was cool. Here’s something you can learn about me: I’m not cool. On any imaginable spectrum. I’m insecure and clumsy and I don’t know how to dress and I totally love Celine Dion.”
Dennis shook h
is head, his dirty blond hair hanging over his eyes. “I think you’re cool,” he grumbled halfheartedly.
“Well, I’m not. And you’re not, either. Which is more proof that we are related. So let’s go inside, finish our dinner, and have some awkward conversations about what we like and don’t like. We’ll get to the point where we don’t have to talk about bands or TV shows or movies. But it doesn’t have to be right away.”
“It’s true, though.” He rolled his head on his sleeve, peeking out over his elbow.
“What’s true?”
“That I don’t have a plan. I have no idea what I’m doing after this. I never even left my town before and I’m here, and I don’t have a place to live….”
“You can live with me,” stated Elly plainly, totally catching herself off-guard. Did I just say that? Do I mean that? She continued, in spite of the alarms buzzing wildly in her brain. “We can’t have Keith paying for you to stay in a hotel forever. He probably has even less money than I do.”
Dennis stayed silent.
“So will you—stay with me? I have a guest room with a bed.” Please say yes, she thought. Then immediately afterward thought, please say no. Oh Lord, please let him say no.
“Okay. Sure. If it makes you happy,” he mumbled, actually sounding very grateful.
“Okay,” she said, still out of breath. “Want to go finish our food?”
Dennis jumped up, faster than she had ever seen him move. They walked back to the restaurant in silence to finish their meals. Over dinner, there was more small talk, this time with Dennis raving about some show called Battlestar Galactica. After dinner, Elly drove him back to the hotel and walked him back to his room.
“Okay, well, Keith paid up through the weekend, so you have two more days here, and then I’ll come get you. That will give me enough time to get the house ready for you.”
“What about your dog?”
Elly widened her eyes. “What about my dog?”
“Is he going to stay there?”
“Are you allergic to dogs?”
“No, I just don’t like them. My dad liked big, mean dogs,” he said, making a small circle with his foot on the carpet.
Elly gave a sigh. This wasn’t happening. “I can see if he can stay with Keith for a while, but Cadbury will come back soon. He’s my dog. I love him, and he would never hurt you. I promise.”
Dennis pursed his lips. “Whatever.”
Elly straightened up her back and uneasily rested her hand on Dennis’s shoulder. He looked appalled.
“I’m going to take off. We have the closing on the new store tomorrow and then I have a two-year-old’s birthday party to deliver flowers to.”
Dennis went to close the door and Elly stuck her arms out in an attempt to hug him. It was an uncomfortable sort of hug, with Dennis standing perfectly still and Elly hugging around his forearms. He coughed. “Okay. Bye.”
Dennis shut the hotel door in her face. Elly, pushing her fingers against her temples, walked all the way to the lobby, mumbling quietly to herself. She stopped at the reception desk and turned around. “Crap.” She had left behind her pink polka-dot umbrella—almost her favorite thing. She walked back to his room, and found the umbrella propping the door open. She popped her head in to say thank you. “Dennis … thanks for putting this out, it’s my favorite.” She pushed the door open.
Dennis was lying on the bed, already stripped down to his tighty-whities, a bag of Doritos on his chest, and watching some sort of monster movie. “Run. It’s Godzilla….”
Elly shielded her eyes. “Oh, um, sorry … I just needed …,” she grabbed her umbrella, “this. So, yeah.”
Dennis looked completely unfazed. “No problem. See ya.”
Elly backed out of the hotel room, hitting her behind on the door frame before slipping out completely. She leaned against the closed door, resting the umbrella on her forehead. What have I done? What have I done?
Inside the room, she heard Dennis start cheering on Godzilla.
Chapter Eleven
“Look at her! Oh, look at her! Look at that little fist! She is so precious. Oh Brad, get the camera!”
Elly tried to grin as Genevieve, an adorable two-year-old, tugged at Elly’s hair with tiny chubby hands. “Oh, ow, wow, she’s surprisingly strong!” Elly struggled to free her hair from the petite tyrant’s grasp. Genevieve, in turn, yanked back.
Her mother held a camcorder inches from Elly’s face. “Happy birthday, Ginny! Look at our baby darling go! You are so strong, aren’t you, Ginny? Aren’t you? You’re my perfect girl! Look how strong you are! Look how you love her hair!”
“Uh … she’s so sweet … oh yeah … wow!” Elly carefully untangled her hair out of Genevieve’s iron grip. “What a cutie. You guys are so lucky.” The toddler gave Elly a distressed look before dissolving into a flurry of hysterical tears.
“Now she’s crying on her birthday. Great. Brad! Turn the flippin’ camera off!” Victoria, her mother, looked over at Elly with a frown.
Elly gave a thin smile. “She’s adorable. So, I think maybe you should try to get the halo on her. She’ll probably feel more comfortable with her mom in her face than me.”
The mother shrugged. “I’m not sure why you can’t get it to stay on. Is it … broken?”
Elly bit her lip angrily. No, it’s just that a two-year-old can’t keep on a flower crown, like I told you at the consultation. Tilting her head with a sympathetic nod, Elly placed the gorgeous ring of pink waxflower on the table. “Why don’t we try in a little bit, when she has calmed down?”
The mother gave a huff and turned back to the cherub-faced terrorist. “Who is my Ginny-doo? Who is my baby girl?” Genevieve cackled through her tears as Elly turned back to the impressive (and somewhat ridiculous) party. She was in Ladue, one of St. Louis’s wealthiest areas, at the lavish home of Brad and Victoria Ames. A huge pink tent consumed their rather modest yard, and in the middle of it all was Genevieve, dwarfed by her pink and lavender tutu, sitting like a queen atop a bedazzled high chair. Giant pink giraffe balloons hovered in the trees, their vacant eyes peeking through cherry blossoms. Cute and terrifying at the same time. Twenty tables, all set with pink and yellow linens, rocked unsteadily in the wind. Elly sped toward the van, where Anthony was already waiting for her, an amused look on his face. “Cute kid.”
Elly stuck her tongue out at him. “Cute, yes. Angelic, not so much. But the parents seem to think so.”
Anthony chuckled as he unloaded a huge cardboard box of orchid centerpieces: bright-pink dendrobium mixed with bright-yellow oncidium in a gigantic Eiffel Tower vase. A giraffe-print ribbon circled the bottom. “What about you guys?”
Elly brushed a damp piece of hair out of her face. It was hot today. “What about who?”
“You and Keith—you two gonna have kids?”
Elly looked over at him with amusement. “I don’t know if you are aware of this, but we have been dating for all of like four months.”
Anthony winked at her. “Yeah, but you two are destined for forever. I can tell these things.”
Elly felt heat rise up to her cheeks. “I hope so,” she murmured before she could catch herself. Shaking her head, she grabbed the contract from the front seat. “Enough of that talk. Okay, we need to put out the centerpieces, then decorate the high chair,” she gave a loud groan, “put the flowers on the buffet table, and decorate the cake.” She glanced over at the monstrous, three-tiered cake that towered over the tables. “Yikes. Okay, we’ll do that last. You got it?”
Anthony gave a nod as he carried the centerpieces toward the tables. “You got it, boss.” Then he started humming “Going to the Chapel.”
Elly rolled her eyes. Kids, huh? Maybe…. She started imagining a pair of toddler twins, their midnight-blue eyes a mirror of Keith’s….
“Um, florist?”
She turned. It was Brad, the super hip Dad in his white polo and dark-teal cargo shorts. She gave him the dazzling Elly grin. “It’s Elly,
actually.”
He grimaced. “I’m so sorry. That was rude, to call you florist. I just wanted to say thank you for doing this—the flowers look amazing.”
Elly pulled the long buffet-table arrangement out of the back of her van, fuchsia bleeding hearts lightly brushing her cheeks. “Well, thank you so much. It has been a pleasure. Your daughter is very cute.”
He shielded his eyes from the sun. “Sorry about my wife. She can be … a little difficult. She’s been prepping for this party for months.”
Elly gave a nonchalant shrug, as if every client let their child pull her hair. “Planning events can be super stressful. I absolutely understand.”
“Can I help you?” he asked. This was a surprise. Over the years, clients had done a lot of kind things, but they never offered to help carry. She brushed awkwardly past Brad. “Nope, we’ve got it. But thank you. You should go enjoy the party!”
“No problem.” Brad wandered off in the direction of his wife, who was snapping her fingers at the catering team, who were all dressed in safari gear. Delicately placing the explosion of buffet flowers in between the cheese and kabob platter, Elly spent a few minutes straightening its loose stems, slyly sticking a broken yellow mum into her apron pocket. She stepped back and took in the entire party. With the centerpieces up (Anthony was a quick worker despite his age), the party had turned from a ho-hum backyard into a pink-and-yellow jungle. Orchids, their tiny lips trembling on thin branches, stretched their arms up to the bright-blue sky. Teenagers dressed as jungle animals prowled around, flirting with each other in a scene that was surreal and disturbing. Genevieve, seated under the bright-pink awning, gave a happy cry as her mother attempted to wrestle zebra-striped shoes onto her tiny feet. From across the backyard, Anthony pointed to the cake. Elly trotted back to the van, grabbed the bucket of loose flowers and headed over to the cake, which sat a few feet away from Genevieve and Victoria.
Victoria smiled as Elly approached. “It all looks so beautiful. Thank you so much. You don’t think it’s too much, do you?”
Elly shook her head. “Nope. It looks like just enough.”