“Aunt Dahlia, just another level, I promise!” Leo shouted over at me.
“Aunt Dahlia, I drew you,” Levi said quietly, coming toward his dad and me.
I sank into my brother’s side, feeling so goddamn full I almost wanted to cry with the joy of it.
* * *
The next evening I found myself sitting at the dining table in the large, open-plan living space of my sister’s gorgeous Bunker Hill apartment.
She must make serious money.
Seriously.
Wow.
I was so proud of her.
My effusive compliments on the apartment and her obvious success had seemed to go a long way to mollifying Davina’s girlfriend, Astrid. When I’d first appeared at the apartment, she’d been quietly and intensely studying me, not giving much away.
Dad was working so he couldn’t serve as a buffer.
This, and Astrid’s cool appraisal, was making me jumpy, and I hated that feeling.
Silence fell over the table as we sat to eat. “Well, this isn’t at all awkward.”
Davina snorted. “You’re making it awkward.”
“How am I making it awkward?” I argued.
“Is it because we’re gay?” Astrid raised an eyebrow at me.
I made a face, no longer caring about tiptoeing around her, after such an absurd question. “My sister could tell me she was thinking of transitioning into an orangutan and it wouldn’t make me love her any less.”
“Maybe more,” Davina mused. “Orangutans are cute.”
“Aren’t they?” I leaned across the table. “The way they hug each other is so adorable. It’s like a full-bodied ‘I love you’ hug. It’s so open and cute. I wish people were like that.”
“Seriously?” Astrid’s eyes
darted between Davina and me.
“Asking her if it’s because we’re gay was stupid.” Davina shrugged.
Her girlfriend glared. “Well, not all of your family have been accepting.”
My sister frowned at her plate. “I’m aware.”
Not wanting an argument to break out between them, I changed the subject. “Have you thought about getting married? Because I make jewelry and I could make the rings. Something perfect and unique.”
My big sister snorted. “You haven’t changed. Still saying things you shouldn’t say. What if marriage is a sore topic for Astrid and me?”
“Is it?”
“No,” Astrid answered. “We’ve thought about it.”
I grinned, happy for my sister. “Really?”
“Ugh,” Astrid huffed, shooting my sister a look. “You were right. That dimple gets her out of everything. She’s adorable.” She turned back to me. “Annoyingly adorable.”