“Did I tell you Ethan tried making me breakfast?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. Was it sweet?”
“I had given him a hard time because I’m always the one who has to get up, and he finally did.” She laughs. “It was so bad, Hadley.”
“What did he make?”
“Eggs.”
I wince. “Were they undercooked?”
“So undercooked, and he put cinnamon on them.”
“Cinnamon?” I ask, appalled and grossed out. “Why cinnamon?”
Hannah laughs through a cringe. “They were so terrible. I took three bites and had to stop.” She puts her hands on the counter.
I rub garlic over two pieces of toasted bread. “I don’t know if I can say the effort counts in this case.”
“Things have been a little off for us. I’m hoping we have fun tonight.”
“Off how?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. He just seems kind of moody and…” She shrugs. “He said we’re getting in a rut.”
I pull my head back, feeling offended on her behalf. “What does that mean?” I try to sound soft, and supportive when inside, my thoughts are raging.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’m trying not to read too much into it, yet. He said he wants to get out and party more.”
“Is that what you want?”
She scoffs. “You know me. I’m happiest at home with my computer and a pound of Red Hots at my side, but I don’t mind going out with him a little if it makes him feel better.”
I keep my focus on the sauce as I turn on the burner for it to warm. Compromise is vital to a relationship—but I’ve always wondered if there are limitations when you give too many concessions and potentially lose your voice or what you want and need.
The train of thought has me realizing this is why my relationship with my brother-in-law, Christian, has always felt strained, regardless of our shared pranks and jokes. He’s always demanding more from my sister, wanting her to change and alter herself to his life, his interests, and his friends—stretching every boundary of compromise.
“Don’t forget you’re amazing and your needs matter, too,” I tell her.
Hannah gives a tight-lipped smile and nods.
While dinner warms, our conversation turns to lighter topics. I tell Hannah about the persuasive speech I have to give Monday, and I listen to her plans to head home for Thanksgiving.
“Will it be snowing in Connecticut?” I ask as we fill our plates with spaghetti and garlic toast.
“My parents live pretty far north, so it’s pretty much a guarantee,” she says. “I’m kind of looking forward to it, surprisingly. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am team fair-weather, but it still feels like summer here and we’re only a couple of weeks from Thanksgiving.”
“I have kind of a crazy idea.”
Hannah peers at me with raised brows as she bites into her garlic toast.
“What if we do an early Thanksgiving? We don’t have to do the traditional turkey and mashed potatoes. We could do something totally different, or even like a breakfast.”
“Brunch!” she cries. “Everyone loves brunch.”
“We could invite everyone, Katie and Carsen, of course, Evelyn and Hudson, Ethan…”
“I love that idea.”