“Opposite,” I say. “Jenn wallowing.”
Monica frowns at me and then points down the hall with the bossiness only an older sister can convey. “Shower, now. You’re treating us to breakfast. Fried potatoes for everyone.”
My stomach gurgles, demanding hash browns with ketchup. It’s my hangover cure of choice, and Monica knows it. Just like I know that she’s going to make me talk about Jenn. “Give me five minutes.”
She gives me another once-over and grimaces. “Maybe take ten.”
Over the Farmer’sBreakfast plate, I devour two servings of hash browns and reluctantly catch Monica up on what went down with Jenn. Shehmms a lot and eats her breakfast sandwich with a fork and knife. Nico eats an enormous stack of pancakes, lost in the crossword app on his phone.
“So… Yeah, that’s about it,” I finish, taking a gulp of coffee. “She left me a message, she wants to talk, but… I don’t think there’s anything to say. It’s over. Done.”
Monica sips her coffee thoughtfully. “Did she ever try to tell you about the mix-up?”
“Nope.” I shake my head, then pause. “Well… Maybe,” I grudgingly admit. “When I showed up to offer her the job, she was saying, she wasn’t who I thought she was. But I figured, it was just imposter’s syndrome, you know. How was I supposed to know she was pretending to be someone else? And anyway, she could have come right out and told me. At literally any moment!”
“Come on,” Monica arches one eyebrow pointedly. “You know you’re like a Mack truck of charm when you want to get your way.”
I scowl at her. “So it’s my fault she lied?”
“No,” Monica says, with a slow patience. “I’m saying that this woman is human. She got in over her head. You swept her off her feet, remember?”
“I didn’t!” I protest.
“You brought her to Little League, Austin.” My sister tips her head, giving me a “be serious” look.
True. I hang my head, staring at my near-empty plate. That second biscuit is calling my name. “Fine. I went hard. But only because I really thought this was something. But nope, turns out my instincts are still just as bad as they always were.”
Monica sighs. “Jenn isn’t Clara.”
“I know…” I grumble. I know, because somehow Jenn’s betrayal hurts even worse.
“Do you?” Monica probes. “Do you really? Jenn made a mistake. But she’s a good person and a woman of substance. I wouldn’t speak for her if I didn’t feel confident about my gut on this.”
The Banks siblings and our gut feelings.
“Well, it’s nice that you liked her,” I stuff another bite of biscuit in my mouth. “But she didn’t lie toyou.”
“No,” Monica agrees. “But I’m your sister. So, it’s my job to spell out the options: you can either be stubborn and alone… And hungover and miserable, I might add—”
“Thanks.”
“Or,” she continues. “You could remember that second chances are a requirement of almost any success story and let yourself be happy with her.”
“You want me to forgive her?” I stare across the table. “I thought Jenn might be it.Thegirl.”
“Even more reason to suck it up and try again,” she pronounces. “Unless… The fact you thought she could be the one is what’s sending you into this head-spin. Finding a reason to rule her out now, so you don’t get in any deeper.”
She thinks this is self-sabotage? I shake my head. “You don’t understand…”
“I don’t understand the perfect love story you have written in your head turning out not to be so perfect, and having a few unexpected twists along the way?” Monica shoots back at me, with a meaningful look.
Nico bobs his head up. “She means me. I’m the unexpected twist.”
“Yeah, I got that, kiddo,” I say, as he returns to his game, clearly bored by my love life.
“Sorry,” I tell my sister.
She waves it off. “What I’m trying to tell you, is nothing works out the way you think it will. People are human, and sometimes those twists are the best part.”