Home, where I haven’t been in nearly two years, or stayed for longer than a week at a time since I graduated from college. Specifically, in my older sister Juliet’s room while she flies over the Atlantic, headed for a stay in the quaint Highlands cottage I’d been renting. A cottage, I quickly realized after breaking my shoulder and having to pass on my usual photojournalism gigs, that I couldn’t afford （neither budgeting nor saving has ever been my forte）。
Since I had a rental cottage I couldn’t pay for, and my sister Juliet needed a change of scenery, swapping places was a no-brainer at the time. Now, lying in my sisters’ apartment, left alone to contemplate my choices, I’m not so sure.
As if she knows my thoughts are spiraling, my phone lights up with a text from Beatrice, my other older sister and Juliet’s twin. I can feel her happiness in a few simple sentences, and a wave of calm crests through me, a reassuring reminder—I made the right decision in coming home. Not only did it enable Jules’s much-needed escape, but it freed Bea to reunite with her boyfriend.
BEEBEE: Hey, KitKat. I’m really sry for dashing off so soon after you got here. I know you get why I needed to talk to Jamie right away, but I’ll come back tonight & we can spend time together, OK?
I bite my lip, thinking through how to respond. Neither Bea nor Jules knows how much I know about the predicament they were in or the solution made possible by my return. That’s because my sisters don’t know Mom spilled the tea on our monthly phone check-in and told me everything I’d missed:
Juliet and her fiancé had matchmade Bea and Jamie, the fiancé’s childhood friend. The fiancé turned out to be a toxic piece of trash, and Jules ended their relationship. Even though Jamie also cut out the piece of trash, Bea brought their relationship to a halt because she knew Jamie would be a painful reminder for Jules of the man who’d hurt her. Until Jules was in a better emotional place, Bea felt that, even though it crushed her, they had to stay apart.
As I listened to my mother explain what a pickle my siblings had gotten themselves into, her voice’s speed and pitch escalating in tandem with her worry, I realized for once I wanted to come home. The people I loved were hurting, and for once, I actually felt like I could help them, even if only in this small way.
Sure, my method required a few . . . untruths. But they were worth it. Small lies of omission. Harmless, really.
Harmless, huh? Just like that horoscope? My reflection gives me a skeptical glance.
I flip it off, then refocus on my phone, typing a response to Bea.
KITKAT: If you dare show your face tonight here, BeeBee, I will spin you right around & send you back where you came from.
BEEBEE: I just don’t want you to be alone your first night home.
A sigh leaves me, even as a twinge of affection pinches my chest. Older sisters.
KITKAT: Newsflash, I like being alone. I get to eat all the food Mom stuck in the fridge & dance around naked to Joan Jett.
BEEBEE: Newsflash, you’d do that with me around, anyway.
I snort a laugh and roll off the bed, wandering out of Juliet’s room into the hallway.
KITKAT: I’ll be fine. Seriously.
BEEBEE: You’re sure?
KITKAT: Yes! I promise.
BEEBEE: You could always go to Mom & Dad’s for some company?
I scowl at my phone, picturing the man who lives next door to my childhood home, who’s been a source of misery for as long as I can remember.
I will not be going to my parents’ and risk bumping into Christopher Petruchio—long-standing nemesis, bane of my existence, asshole of epic magnitude—because the universe is a jerk and, whenever possible, I always have the misfortune of bumping into Christopher.
KITKAT: I’m good. Now get off the phone & go bang your boyfriend’s lights out.
BEEBEE: Done & doner.
BEEBEE: OH! I forgot. Cornelius needs his dinner. Would you mind feeding him? His meal is in a container in the minifridge, labeled for today.
I peer into Bea’s bedroom and spy her pet hedgehog waddling around his elaborate screened-in living structure. A smile tugs at my mouth as he perks up and his little nose wiggles, sniffing the air. I’m an animal lover, and while I’ve never looked after a hedgehog, I’m not worried about being able to handle it.
KITKAT: No problem.
BEEBEE: Thank you so much!!
KITKAT: You’re welcome. Now STOP TEXTING & GET BANGING.
BEEBEE: FINE! IF I MUST!
I shove my phone into my back pocket and slump against the hallway, scrubbing my face. I’m jet-lagged, my system heavy with exhaustion yet humming with energy. I can’t stand when I’m tired yet hyped, but such is life. Just because my body’s wiped doesn’t mean my brain gets the memo.