Murder [and Baklava] (A European Voyage #1)- Blake Pierce Page 0,5
into a self-protective ball like an armadillo. Her older sister’s capacity to put her on guilt trips had always been uncanny.
Tia continued, “All Bernard and I wanted was for you to have the same happiness that we did. I feel like we both deserve it, you and I, after the childhood you and I survived.”
Oh, please don’t go there, London thought.
“Our parents raised us just fine,” London said.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly stable.”
London was relieved when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get that,” Tia yelled as she jumped up and hurried off to answer it.
London sat staring at her coffee for a blissful moment while all the noise was in the background. She noticed that an assortment of toys seemed to have materialized out of nowhere on the tabletop, but she decided to ignore them.
Thinking about Tia’s words, London had to admit that their childhood had not been stable. Being raised by two flight attendants meant living with a lot of disruption and moving around. But London had always had a greater tolerance for instability than her sister had—and a greater sense of adventure.
Even when she and Tia had been kids and their father had come out as gay, London had seen it as an exciting transition in all their lives. Her parents hadn’t divorced, and the whole family had continued to live under one roof, as cheerfully as ever. And both Mom and Dad kept right on being good role models.
But their happy family hadn’t lasted forever. When London and Tia were in their early teens, their mother had decided to go on a European tour on her own.
She’d never come back.
Nobody had any idea what had happened to her.
There had been no sign of foul play. She had apparently just walked away and taken off on her own. London had believed that something terrible must have happened to her, but Tia always said …
“I guess she wasn’t as happy as she made herself out to be.”
That wasn’t a question that London liked to think about. As an adult, she had avoided the whole issue by limiting her assignments to Caribbean cruise routes.
Tia came back and sat down across from her.
“It was just the yard man with a question,” Tia informed her. “Now where were we?”
She was gazing at London with a hurt expression on her face, almost like she might start crying.
“I’ve always tried to be a good big sister, London,” Tia said. “Haven’t I succeeded at that?”
“Of course you have,” London said.
“Then why can’t you follow my example? Look around you. This is a good life, London. What Bernard and I have here with the kids and our friends and neighbors is good. It’s real. You can’t go escaping all over the world for the rest of your life. Life means responsibilities and commitment. And those are wonderful things. Those are rewarding things. Surely you can see that.”
London flinched as the roar of a lawnmower started up outside the kitchen window.
Tia took a sip of coffee, then calmly continued her argument.
“The best thing,” Tia was saying, “is that you and Ian can settle down right here in this neighborhood, maybe even just down the block.”
London’s felt a twinge of déjà vu at those words.
Then she remembered something Ian had said last night.
“We’ll live below our means, in the same neighborhood with Tia and Bernard.”
She almost gasped aloud.
Have Tia and Ian been conspiring together?
Is Bernard in on it too?
She cautioned herself not to get paranoid. Nevertheless, one thing seemed perfectly clear. Ian, Tia, and probably Bernard were on the same wavelength and had the same intentions toward her. If she married Ian, she would wind up right here in every sense.
Here, as in a version of her sister’s life.
And the truth was, there were things about it that appealed to London.
It was a nice house.
Life here was stable—and safe.
Most of the time, London even liked her sister’s kids.
And of course, she’d surely wind up enjoying her own kids.
Doesn’t everybody?
So maybe Tia was right. Maybe London was just trying to run away from reality, from responsibilities and commitment. Maybe it was time to do what Mom and Dad had never quite done.
Maybe it’s time to really grow up.
“London,” Tia demanded a bit shrilly, “are you even listening to me?”
“Of course …”
A loud artificial whinny was followed by the squeaking and banging of Bret’s toy rocking horse. The little boy had pushed his steed into the kitchen and climbed aboard the spring-mounted animal, rocking with all his might.