But today…
“I’m thirty-one, Soph,” she blurted out.
“You always were good with numbers,” Sophie said. “You know what else we could go count? The huge number of presents, and even bigger number of people here to see you.”
“See me what, turn old and wrinkly right in front of their eyes?”
“Okay, stop,” Sophie said, planting her fist on her hip. “Do you have any idea how obnoxious you sound? Thirty-one isn’t even close to old, and you know perfectly well that you don’t look a day over twenty-five.”
Her sister’s criticism chafed at Brynn’s raw nerves. “Give me a break, Soph. Like you’ve never had a sense of panic over an impending birthday?” Brynn snapped. “I distinctively remember you going on a rampage about how your eggs were going to turn into raisins when you turned twenty-nine and Gray refused to turn his office into a nursery just in case.”
“Yeah, but that’s me. You know perfectly well that I am the whiner of the family. You always rise above pity parties. I thought it went against your moral code, or whatever you call that notebook of yours.”
“It’s my life list, not a moral code.” She hated how snobbish her tone sounded.
Sophie’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. That’s what this is about. Your stupid list.”
Brynn began rummaging in her purse for her lipstick. Her nude lipstick. The same color she’d been using for almost a decade. “That’s not it,” she said primly.
Sophie snickered. “Oh it sooo is. Isn’t there a thirty-five before thirty-five clause or something in there? Or is that an entirely separate list, not unlike your Thirty Things to Do Before Thirty, and your Fifty Before Fifty list.”
“If you’re going to make fun of me, I’m not going to talk about this with you,” Brynn said as she applied a careful swipe of the lipstick.
But Sophie had already latched onto the topic. “Your hyperorganized little mind is running through all of the things you were supposed to have done by now. That’s why you want your birthdays to slink by unnoticed.”
Something squeezed in Brynn’s chest. “I just…I thought I’d be engaged by now.”
There.
She’d said it.
And she knew how it sounded. She’d practically delivered a death blow to feminism. Modern women didn’t need a husband. Brynn didn’t need a husband.
Except…it was on her plan. And what was the point of having a plan if you didn’t stick to it?
She didn’t bother looking at Sophie to gauge her reaction. She already knew her sister would be incredulous, and possibly a little outraged.
But Sophie wouldn’t get it. How could she? Her younger sister had married the man of her dreams before the age of thirty, and was happier than she’d ever been in her life.
“But Brynny, it’s just not your time,” Sophie said softly. “And I thought things with James were going great? He’s looking for you, by the way.”
James.
Right. She felt even more ridiculous for stressing about her marital status when she had a perfectly wonderful boyfriend. A boyfriend who was currently stuck making small talk with people he barely knew because she was lamenting the lack of a shiny ring on her fourth finger.
She was pathetic.
“Listen,” Sophie said, helping herself to the sugar-free gum from Brynn’s purse. “I know you probably have some grand plan of where you’re supposed to be by this exact date. But it doesn’t always work like that. Or you know, maybe marriage just isn’t in the cards for you.”
Again, that tightness in her chest. Dammit. “It is,” Brynn said firmly. “I know it is.”
“Okay,” Sophie said with strained patience. “Then it will happen. Someday. But hiding out in the bathroom isn’t going to get you there any faster. I hardly think James’s going to get marriage-minded with a woman who spends inordinate time in the restroom.”
True. So true.
Brynn gave her sister a spontaneous hug. “I love how you always say the right thing in the weirdest way.”
Sophie hugged her back before tugging at the hem of her flouncy blue cocktail dress and dropping into a small curtsy. “I do my best.”