“Sorry,” I said, and withdrew my hands into my lap. Instantly, my feet began to bounce. But at least that wasn’t as noticeable.
“Sheesh. You’re a mess.” Lauren took a huge bite out of a garlic knot and eyed me curiously. “Why did you even agree to this karaoke thing? Did that Christopher kid dare you or something?”
“Shhh!” I admonished, glancing over at Loretta, who was still chatting up the woman sitting on her other side, thank goodness. I didn’t need our grandmother blaming more things on Christopher and getting it into her head that the two of us shouldn’t be hanging out together. “I don’t take dares anymore. That was the old me.”
“That you was a lot more fun,” Lauren shot back, but not nastily. More matter-of-factly. And I didn’t entirely disagree.
When I was little, I’d been known for never turning down a dare. One time, on the playground behind school, I’d even eaten a dead bug when Sebastian Domaskis had told everyone I was too scared. (And then had spent the rest of the day puking up my guts. But at least Sebastian had puked, too. And before I did. He deserved it, the little jerk.) What had happened to that version of me, though? Not that I wanted to go around eating dead bugs or anything. But I’d definitely become a lot more timid somewhere between then and now.
I looked at Loretta again. My grandmother seemed to have made a new best friend in the middle-aged lady who had come along with her husband and another couple. The two of them had found common ground when the woman had brought up her latest trip to Europe, and they had been comparing notes on the best hotels in the Pyrenees ever since. It was really amazing, how easy it was for Loretta to talk to strangers—to make friends out of everyone she met. Everyone who worked for her loved, or at least respected, her, and from what I could tell, she loved or respected them right back.
“I just thought it would be good to try some new things,” I said with a shrug, and took a sip from my water glass. I wasn’t ready to tell my sister about the list. There was no doubt in my mind that Lauren would find the whole idea mockable. Lauren was the kind of person who just did things. She didn’t make lists. She didn’t even double-think her decisions. If I was an over-thinker, Lauren was an under-thinker. A non-thinker. She was a doer.
And I’d never seen her make a list in my life.
“I think that’s cool,” Lauren said. “I’m impressed.”
A warm and fuzzy feeling erupted inside my chest. It was nice to feel like my sister was proud of me for once. Over on the small stage in the corner, the singer—who actually looked a lot like Frank Sinatra if I squinted—launched into “New York, New York.” He looked so confident up there, holding his microphone casually, tipping his head back and closing his eyes, snapping his fingers to keep the beat.
“How do people do that?” I whispered to my sister.
“Some people are just natural-born performers.”
“Maybe I’m one and I don’t even know it?” I said hopefully.
Lauren scoffed. “Doubtful.”
I groaned and slumped.
“Sorry. I’m just messing with you. I’m sure it will be fine. You just get up there, pick a short song, and it’ll be over before you know it. That’s the thing about karaoke. You might be bad, but within three songs, there will definitely be someone worse. Plus no one is focused on you because they’re all so focused on what they’re gonna sing.” She patted me twice on the shoulder. “Just be forgettable, that’s my advice. Don’t try too hard, and no one will remember it tomorrow.”
Don’t try too hard. Did she even know me? The very idea of not trying gave me hives.
“So, girls. Do you know who absolutely loves Frank Sinatra?” Loretta asked out of nowhere, finally turning her attention to the granddaughters she’d forced to come here so they could enjoy “family time.”
“Our dad?” Lauren said moodily.
“Exactly!”
“We know,” I said, twirling some spaghetti onto my fork unenthusiastically. “He plays his music all the time in the car. I’ve never understood it. Wasn’t Frank Sinatra, like, very before his time?”
“Yes, in fact, he was, but your father got into his music because he was your grandfather’s favorite,” Loretta said, and took a sip of her wine. “Most kids would have shunned their dad’s musical interests, but not your father. He was always such a good son—so kind and so loyal. Instead of making your grandfather feel like an old fool for his choice in music, he listened and ended up appreciating it as much as your grandfather did.”
“Yeah, well. He lost that whole loyalty thing somewhere along the way,” Lauren muttered, ripping into another garlic knot.
“Lauren! That’s not fair. Nor is it appropriate,” Loretta said, and my heart squeezed.
“Call it what you want, Loretta, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s the one who’s leaving,” Lauren said, and swallowed hard. “So forgive me if I don’t want to sit here and get all poetic about how amazing and loyal he is.”
And just like that, Lauren shoved her chair back from the table, got up, and stormed away.
“Lauren! Get back here!” Loretta said through her teeth, clearly trying not to make a scene in front of her guests.
But Lauren either didn’t hear her or was ignoring her, and she swept right out of the room, just as the crooner in the corner was belting out the most famous line of his song:
“If I can MAKE it there, I’ll make it ANYWHERE!”
I sat back in my seat, hard. I couldn’t believe it. All this time, in the many months since our parents had sat us down and told us they were getting a divorce, Lauren had never gotten emotional about it. Not once. Her completely blasé attitude had been pissing me off forever. So why now? Why here?
Loretta reached for her wine again, and I saw that my grandmother’s hand was shaking.
“I’m sorry, Loretta. I guess she’s just upset about this whole thing.”
“It’s all right, dear. It’s not your fault,” Loretta said, giving me a wan smile. “It’s going to take everyone a while to adjust to this new normal.”
But that was the thing—I had been sure that my sister already had adjusted. That she’d never really cared to begin with. Had I been wrong this entire time? Had I missed something? Or was my sister just the greatest actor of all time?
“Well, it’s too bad,” Loretta said, perking up again. “Now she’s going to miss Campfire Bingo.”
Alarm bells went off in my head. Lauren was supposed to run interference with Loretta for the rest of the night so I could go change into my boots and sing karaoke. Now, my wingman was gone.