for lunch tomorrow and headed upstairs to work my way through Jake’s Coaching Appendix videos and some of the volumes of team mentality that my sister had sent in drips and trickles since the weekend.
Before I could boot up my laptop, my phone rang.
Zinnia. I hated the fact that just my sister’s name on my screen dulled the good feelings that had bloomed inside me.
I accepted the call, and Zinnia’s beautiful face filled the screen. She wore her dark hair long and straight in a glossy curtain. Her lips were painted a shade of ruby that I could never in a million years pull off. Her thick eyebrows were waxed and groomed into perfection.
“Hey, sis,” she said.
“Hey, Zin. How’s life?”
She gestured around her, and I could see that she was still in her office. The Washington, D.C. skyline stretched on behind her through the windows of her thirteenth-floor corner office. “Considering I feel like I haven’t left this place in three weeks, good. Rumor has it my husband and children are still alive. How’s Culpepper? Are you settling in?”
“Everything’s fine,” I told her. I hated giving Zinnia the details of my day. It all seemed so trivial to what she spent her time doing. “Save any war-torn orphans lately?” I asked.
“Ha. Some. I hear you and Jake Weston just signed a relationship contract.”
I flopped down on the bed. “How in the hell did you hear that?”
“The Culpepper grapevine is as deep as it is wide,” she laughed. “So what’s that all about?” It dented my feelings just a bit to know that Zinnia knew me well enough to know that me and Jake dating was a little too good to be true. But at least she could keep a secret.
“It was kind of an accident. There was some drama with the boys soccer coach and another teacher, and Jake got involved, and one thing led to another, and we told the administration that we’re kinda sorta dating.”
“Only you, Marley,” Zinnia laughed.
Yeah. Only me.
Zinnia was my older sister. By nine months. However, her unfair brainiac advantage and maturity had leapfrogged her ahead of me in school in the fourth grade. As much as it had chafed, it had also been a relief. Not having to share the same playing field with her. Not comparing apples to apples.
“Is he still gorgeous?” she asked.
“Oh my God. Take senior year Jake and multiply him times one thousand. Stubble. Tattoos. More muscles.”
Zinnia spooned up something exotic from a takeout container and chewed thoughtfully. “I’m going to need some photographic proof,” she decided.
“I’ll try to snap a picture of him running shirtless,” I promised.
“You are a marvel, sister dear,” she said.
“That’s what I keep telling people. So how’s Ralph? Still surgery-ing his ass off?”
Conversations with my sister were odd. I didn’t want to share the pitiful details of my life with her, and she didn’t seem to like talking about how amazing her life was to me. Presumably because she didn’t want me to feel worse about myself.
“Darling Ralph has very little ass to lose,” Zinnia said fondly. Her husband was a genius and a talented surgeon. But he had the build of a two-by-four.
Byron poked his gawky head into my room. “Thank you again for dinner,” he said with a toothy smile. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for your ringer.”
“Thanks, Byron,” I said, getting up and closing the door.
“Uh, who was that?” Zinnia demanded.
“Oh, your room is now an Airbnb,” I told her.
32
Marley
Was there anything sexier than a shirtless man with a doofy dog? I pondered that thought while Jake and I muscled our way through another early morning run. Homer, the Goldendoodle something or other, was lazy and grumbly and kept stopping to pretend to pee. I admired his strategy.
When we got back to my parents’ house, I invited them both in for breakfast and got to see the legendary Jake Weston almost swallow his tongue.
“Breakfast? With your parents?” he choked.
“Yeah, probably. And Byron. He’s staying another night.”
“Mars, I can’t meet your parents like this.” He spread his arms wide and forced me to take in his godlike proportions.
“Are you nervous?” I laughed.
Homer flopped against my leg and slid down to the ground on a groan.
“Nervous? Me? Ha.”
“You look like you’re going to throw up. They’re just regular people. Mostly.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I told you I’ve never met a girl’s parents before,” he said, swiping his hand over his mouth. “I’m not gonna do it like this.”
The disappointment was swift, surprising, and totally