“So what’s going on, baby sister? Did you get kicked off the show?”
“Oh,” Dahlia said, her system feeling confused at the sharp turn back to reality. “I signed an NDA so I’m technically not allowed to tell you. But I’m, um, still in LA.”
Dahlia stood and walked to the bathroom, filling a glass with water.
“So . . .” Hank waited. “What’s wrong?”
Dahlia stared at herself in the mirror above the sink, at the shadows under her eyes.
Her mouth asked the question before her brain had even truly known it needed to ask it.
“Would you be disappointed? If I don’t win?”
She heard Hank cluck his tongue. “Dahlia,” he said. “Come on.”
“Mom would be disappointed, probably. I feel like I’m always disappointing Mom.”
“No shit.” Hank snorted. “For the record, she was hard on both of us, you know. You don’t hold exclusivity on disappointing our mother.”
“You didn’t get divorced from her, like, favorite person because you didn’t want to give her grandbabies,” Dahlia retorted.
“You didn’t come out as transgender in your mid-twenties,” Hank countered.
Dahlia paused. “Okay, fair. Mom was pretty great about that, though.”
“I think she’s okay about your divorce, too. You just can’t see it.”
Dahlia sighed quietly and walked back into the main room. Hank didn’t know how excited their mom had been, whenever she visited Dahlia and David at their house in the ’burbs, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about grandkids. The way that light had been extinguished when Dahlia broke the news about the divorce.
“She’s really proud of you, Dahlia,” Hank said after a moment. “You have to know that.”
“I don’t believe I do.”
“We all watched the first episode together, you know. You should’ve seen how upset she was when you tripped.”
“Oh god.” Dahlia flopped heavily back on the bed and put her head in her hands. “How is that being proud of me?!”
“Because she got all protective. She sat up on the couch and said, ‘They shouldn’t have shown that. They’re laughing at her.’ She was so pissed.”
“That sounds like she was embarrassed, Hank.”
Now Hank sighed audibly into the phone.
“She wasn’t. Dahlia, you know Nonna and Nonno were hard on Mom, too. Having high expectations is just how she was raised.”
“Yeah,” Dahlia said weakly, even though she knew this was true. Dahlia and Hank’s grandparents on her mom’s side had been loving but hard people. Dahlia had been slightly terrified of them as a small child.
“Just . . . maybe, I don’t know, try to talk to her more,” Hank said. “I know talking to Dad is easier for you, but if you’re feeling all sad and weird about Mom, reach out and tell her stuff. See what happens.”
“I talk to her about stuff,” Dahlia said defensively.
Hank snorted again.
Fine. Point taken.
“And you know we’re all going to love you just as much no matter what happens on the show. I don’t care if you get kicked off on the third episode and you’ve just been bumming around LA since then. Okay?”
Dahlia was quiet for a long moment.
“Okay,” she said. “Top ten Sandra Bullock movies.”
She picked up her notebook and sat down again, jiggling her foot.
“Easy,” Hank said. “Number ten, The Proposal.”
After they fought for a while about whether While You Were Sleeping, Miss Congeniality, or Speed was more deserving of the number one spot, Dahlia put her pen down.
“Your lunch break has to be up soon,” she said.
“Maybe,” Hank said noncommittally.
She wanted to tell him about London. She knew Hank would be on her side about so many things. Like the fact that Brussels sprouts definitely did not count as comfort food. Like the fact that London Parker was simultaneously the cutest and sexiest person who had ever existed.
She wanted them to meet one day, so London could tell Hank anything he ever wanted to know about Nashville.
She wanted to tell Hank everything.
But that was for another day.
Maybe right now the assurance that after all this, even if she didn’t get it all, she’d still have Hank, was enough.
She took a deep breath.
Okay.
Okay.
Team Dahlia, ready for liftoff.
“You are a really amazing brother, Hank.”