Starry-Eyed Love (Spark House)

“Yeah, but if stuff like this is taking up hours of your day, how effective is that?”

“It’s not usually this bad,” I backtrack. “Besides, Avery’s already a ball of stress, and having her take on more stuff around here isn’t going to make that better.”

“We really need to hire someone to help out, even part-time would be better than nothing,” Harley says.

“You know I’m on board; it’s Avery we need to convince. With her already being worried about the wedding, and now the whole proposal for expanding the kitchen, I can’t see her jumping at even more change.”

“Don’t I know it. I wish she weren’t so hardheaded about this.” Harley shakes her head. “Sometimes I feel like we need to revisit this unanimous decision making and go with majority rules. We’d get a lot further that way.”

“Yeah, but then Avery would be miserable, and she’d accuse us of conspiring against her,” I point out.

“Maybe after the wedding it’ll be easier.”

“We can only hope.”

Harley and I tried to broach the subject a few weeks ago, and Avery nearly bit our heads off going on about how this is our legacy and blah blah blah. We gave up when she started in on the importance of keeping it a family business. “Heads up, she’s going to be asking about flowers for her wedding. For someone who is usually awesome at planning events, her wedding seems to be a hot mess.”

“That’s because it doesn’t have anything to do with sports. They should just get married in a stadium, during a soccer game at halftime or something.” I open the box of photos that were left for me for the upcoming wedding anniversary event.

Harley’s eyes flare and dart around, possibly to make sure we’re alone. “Don’t you dare say that in front of Avery!”

“Because she’ll think it’s a great idea?”

Harley picks up one of the wedding photos. “For sure she would. As it is, she’s been tossing around the idea of having a soccer net as the archway. They should probably just say ‘I scored’ instead of ‘I do.’”

I laugh. “I can actually see this all happening in my head.”

“Me too. Let’s never mention it again. It’s not as if Avery needs more ideas. She’s trying to incorporate everything she loves into one day. It’s either going to be awesome or a shitshow.”

“Let’s be real, it’s probably going to be both. You know she’ll try to organize the entire thing and be the bride at the same time.”

“Yup. If either of us gets married, can we just agree to hire wedding planners, so we don’t do this to ourselves?”

“Absolutely.” I hold out my pinkie and Harley links hers with mine.

Harley will definitely settle down eventually, but I’m not so sure wedding bells are in my future. Harley has been destined for motherhood her entire life, always the caretaker. I stepped into that role after our parents passed away, or at least I tried to. Avery had been in college and I’d been a freshman in high school. Harley was in middle school, and their loss rocked us all. I don’t know if it’s possible to ever truly recover from losing your parents in such a devastating way, but the days keep passing, and we keep on going.

I continue flipping through the box of photographs that chronicle the Wilsons’ life together. Their daughter has done a great job pulling images that tell a story and organizing them from first date, to their wedding, pregnancies, births, children’s weddings, and grandbabies and great-grandbabies.

I stop at a picture of the Wilsons’ thirtieth wedding anniversary and a lump forms in my throat.

Harley gives me a sad smile. “Mom and Dad’s anniversary is next month.”

I nod. Every year on our parents’ anniversary, the three of us celebrate together. It’s always bittersweet, in part because their wedding anniversary is also the anniversary of their death. They’d gone on a trip, just the two of them, a little weekend getaway, but there had been a huge storm and an even bigger accident on the highway. They’d never come home, and our lives had been changed forever.

If they were still here, so much would be different. My job, my life, our family.

“What do you want to do this year? Should we book a table somewhere? Or just watch a movie and order in?” Harley asks.

Our parents’ first date was dinner and a movie. “We should order in and watch When Harry Met Sally.”

Harley nods. “That sounds perfect.”

“I think so too. We’ll order all their favorite foods and celebrate their love together.”

We shift away from the topic of our parents. I still find it hard to talk about them. No matter how long they’ve been gone, that wound always feels fresh. I worry that part of my problem with relationships is that I’m afraid to get too close to anyone other than my sisters because partners can walk away so easily, but family is different. At least ours is. I know what it feels like to lose someone essential to my life, and the possibility that I could give my heart to someone who will discard it is terrifying. So I don’t.