So, in case you’ve ever wondered what happens at sleepovers, we watch sappy romance movies and stuff our faces with junk food while trying not to cry but failing miserably.
Maybe look up the soundtrack for A Walk to Remember if you have time to check it out. It’s such a good album.
The Notebook is on our list for next weekend, and I’m going to be an emotional mess, guaranteed. I’ll update you in my next letter :)
Until then, please be safe!
Love, Gemma
* * *
Though I had no plans to watch either of those movies, hearing her gush over them had me curious. I was able to listen to the soundtrack like she recommended, then found them on Netflix. In my next letter, I explained I saw them all, and that I thought she deserved to have someone like Matty or Landon in her life. I hoped she’d get to experience love in the same way and feel all the raw emotions they did, even if I personally felt like it was an unrealistic expectation. But she deserved and still deserves everything she wishes for.
As promised, she sent me a follow-up letter gushing over The Notebook. How she and my sister used an entire box of tissues and put it on repeat three times in a row. Hearing from her always brought a smile to my face along with laughter during the hard times. Everleigh and I kept in touch too, but not as much as Gemma and I did. Sometimes, there wasn’t anything new going on, but it didn’t stop us from talking. Not being face-to-face helped us open up as the years passed, and we became more comfortable. It’s crazy to think about how much we shared and how quickly our relationship vanished after I left Alabama.
Sometimes, I wonder what would’ve happened if I had stayed, but I undoubtedly would’ve felt suffocated. Between my absent father and my alcoholic mother, I wanted to be where no one knew of my past or upbringing. I needed and wanted a new start away from it all. But if I could change anything, I wouldn’t have cut Gemma out of my life and would’ve made an effort to come home and visit more. I hurt a lot of people by avoiding Lawton Ridge, but I’m back now and hope to make up for it.
Finally, at six a.m., I roll out of the bed and decide to make breakfast for the girls since I’m wide-awake. Though a small part of me hopes Gemma will tell Robert off, the other part doesn’t want me to be the reason she’s second-guessing her relationship. I know Robert’s been pushing her to move up the wedding date, but she’s clearly not ready. I bet their problems started before I even arrived. If she’s not in a rush, she’s ignoring some underlying issues.
“Good mornin’,” I say when Gemma and Everleigh walk into the kitchen thirty minutes later. “Coffee and breakfast are ready.”
Everleigh comes closer, then puts her palm to my forehead.
“What’re you doing?” I look at her as though she’s lost her mind.
“Checkin’ to see if you have a fever.”
I snort before swatting her away. “Can’t a big brother make breakfast for y’all? I used to cook all the time, remember?”
“Depends. Does it come with a side of tequila?” Gemma opens the cabinet, grabs a mug, then fills it before adding creamer and stirring it.
“Thought you’d still be stuffed from all the margaritas you had?” Everleigh teases as she empties the rest of the coffee.
“Har har.” Gemma groans. “I’m gonna need something to get through this day.”
“Me too. Maybe we can call in sick,” I taunt.
Gemma chuckles. “That wouldn’t be suspicious at all. My dad wouldn’t know how to handle the phone.”
“Well, you might have to train someone if you plan to leave,” Everleigh says, grabbing a plate, then scooping scrambled eggs and potatoes onto it.
I study Gemma’s expression. She frowns, then shrugs. “Not happenin’.”
The three of us sit at the kitchen table and chat. Everleigh finishes, then pops up with a giddy smile. “I’m gonna shower so I can get to work a little early.” She punches my shoulder and laughs.
I playfully rub the spot. “That’s all ya got? Wuss. Gotta put your weight into it.”
“Next time you hog all the hot water like you did yesterday morning, it’ll be much worse. I swear, you take the longest showers. I have long hair to wash and legs to shave. What the hell do you do in there?”
“What do you think?” I waggle my brows, and Gemma nearly chokes on her food, quickly recovering as she takes a sip of her coffee.
“Ew, gross! You’re my brother.” She gags.
“That’s how I felt when I found your little clit massager in there the other day. Perhaps put it away after you’re done?”