My sister stays pretty silent until we turn onto Discovery Drive, which leads to the waterfront. I can see her eyeing me and opening her mouth like she’s about to talk, then shutting it like she’s changed her mind at the last second. She pulls into a spot across the street from the lakeshore path we plan on walking. Before she can get out whatever speech she’s spent the last five minutes composing in her head, I preempt her.
“It’s not just Dax. It’s everything.”
She takes off her seatbelt. “Define everything for me.”
I don’t even need to think. “I am starting to love my store. It’s so pretty, and it smells so good. Not to mention I’ve run the numbers, and I significantly underestimated how many Hamiltonians are into clean beauty. It’s the best job, and I’m getting paid to be there.”
She nods. “Okay, I’m following, and if you don’t own Wilde in your timeline, it means poor Other Kiersten is paying for facial moisturizer. I can get behind this reason. Are there more?”
The rest of it I can’t quite put a finger on.
“I just wake up so happy. I caught myself skipping yesterday, Kierst. You and I both know we Wildes do not skip.”
She thinks before saying, “Well, I’m happy you’re happy.”
I can see in her eyes that there’s a caveat to that statement. “But?”
“But I want you to hold off on making a final decision for a bit.”
I don’t say anything, but my face must reveal that I am far from in love with her statement.
She reaches for my hand and squeezes. “Everything is shiny and happy and wonderful when all you’re doing is fucking. But eventually, you get tired of banging like bunnies and reality checks in.”
“Kiersten!”
She waves me off. “Just humor me and make sure it’s absolutely what you want. Rash decisions can lead to hasty weddings and suddenly you wake up one morning with three kids and you don’t know who you are.”
A silence settles over the van.
“Um, are we still talking about me here?”
My sister blinks twice, then shakes her head. “Of course we are. But that reminds me. Can you babysit tomorrow night? I’m in a bit of a bind. Trent’s away fishing for the weekend and my usual sitter has a night class.”
I know without checking that my calendar is free. “Moms Gone Wild night?”
“You haven’t partied until you’ve partied with the PTA,” she replies with perfect deadpan.
“Yeah. Sure. Your kids are into movies, right? Saw III is new on Netflix.”
She glares at me.
“That was a joke. You’re not the only comedian in the family.”
Her scowl deepens. “Yes, but the difference is that I’m actually funny.”
Our conversation pauses as a group of women in bright-colored lululemon gear passes our car on the way to the path.
“Are we gonna do this?” I nod at the women, who are walking twice as fast as Kierst and I get up to on a good day.
Kierst eyes the doughnut box. “If you don’t go home, it won’t accidentally cause a rift in the universe or anything, right?”
I have to think for a moment.
“I’m honestly not entirely sure?”
She swears under her breath, leaving me lost in this conversation.
“What’s wrong?”
She picks up the box of doughnuts. “I was going to skip the walk and eat this entire box, and now I can’t.”
I am not even kind of following. “Why not?”
“Well, if you’re sticking around, I’ll have to live with the consequences. Sugar goes right to my ass.”
We compromise and each eat one full doughnut, then split a second one with the promise that we’ll walk an additional kilometer than the five we have planned.
We stop after three.
Blaming the ominous-looking thunderclouds rolling in from the east and the grande oat lattes that accompanied this morning’s doughnuts, we pile back into the minivan and drive to my place so we can pee.
“Dibs on the bathroom,” I call as we pull up to the sidewalk.
Kiersten hits the locks as I try to open my door. “Bathroom etiquette always defers to the person who has squeezed the most humans out of their vajay.”
I manually flip the lock and push the door open. “If I run, you won’t be able to catch me without peeing yourself.”
I race up the walkway and through the gate and get ready to leap the steps before I’m forced to skid to a stop to avoid the obstacle in my path.