What do I do next?
What do I want to do?
And the answer can’t be take a nap.
I eat a late lunch, I end up taking that nap, and then I wind up my afternoon by binge watching a series on Netflix or Hulu. That’s how Stella always finds me, sitting on the couch, a bag of pretzels—that I purchased, thank you very much—nestled in my lap as I watch Dead to Me or whatever.
She hasn’t asked me how I’m able to pay the rent yet, though I know that question is on the tip of her tongue. I’m sure she regrets me moving in with her. I’m positive she silently curses my existence.
“Have you found a job yet?” Caroline asks, her voice casual, but I know she’s digging for information. Probably thinks I’m a complete loser for not looking either.
We’re at a Chinese restaurant in Monterey, one we used to go to when we were kids and Mom felt like treating us, which wasn’t often. We were pretty broke growing up, and I find it funny we simultaneously suggested this place via text when we were discussing meeting for lunch.
I also find it funny that my sister is a mind reader, considering I was just thinking about my unemployment status.
“No. Not really looking, though,” I confess as I grab my spoon and start swirling it through my egg drop soup. There aren’t many people inside the restaurant, even though it’s prime lunchtime, and the interior is kind of dingy. I remember thinking it was so cool here when we were younger, what with all the dragons on the walls.
Now the dragons are faded, as is everything else. All the restaurant needs is a little TLC. A fresh coat of paint, new décor and brighter lighting would really help.
“Carter. You can’t just mope around,” Caroline says, her tone gentle. “You should really be looking for a job.”
“I have enough money to get me through a while,” I reassure her, though ‘a while’ is a bit of a stretch. “If I manage it right.”
“And what are you going to do with yourself until you find a job?” Her eyes are wide, like she can’t imagine me doing nothing for any length of time.
Honestly, I can’t imagine it either.
I don’t know is what I want to tell her. But I keep my mouth shut and just offer my sister a tight smile. Maybe this was a mistake, returning home with no plan. The fight with Robyn, quitting on the spot, it was all so impulsive, a not-so-secret fault of mine. I let my emotions get the best of me, which isn’t the first time, and I did some things I now regret.
I need to change the subject. “How was London?”
Caroline smiles, her nagging me forgotten. “Absolutely wonderful. Alex is getting ready to open a new Wilder Hotel there, and it’s simply gorgeous. We’re going back for the grand opening late next month.”
“That’s awesome.” Despite my finishing off my soup, my stomach is still growling. I’m dying for some sweet and sour chicken, though it goes against my SoCal diet. Since I’ve come back home, I’ve completely given up eating healthy. I need to get back on track. “I like London. It’s a great city.”
I went there once, during my early twenties and with a group of friends. A two-week European tour where we made pit stops in some of the most beautiful cities imaginable, yet I barely remember them. Never go to Europe when you’re twenty-two and drinking all the time. The trip will turn into a complete blur.
“It is,” Caroline agrees. She’s quiet for a moment before she says, “Mom told me you two got together.”
Our mother is a touchy subject. She wasn’t the best at mothering, and we don’t have the closest relationship with her.
“We had dinner.” That’s all I say. That’s all that needs to be said. It was an evening of stilted conversation and awkward silences. Once the meal was over, I was relieved to get away from her. I bet Mom felt the same way.
“I need to see my girls,” Caroline says wistfully, and when I shoot her a confused look, she explains. “My friend group, remember? You met all of them that night at Tuscany.”
The only thing I remember from that night at Tuscany is Stella. A sexy, breathless, naked Stella. “Remind me of their names again.”
“Well, there’s Stella, of course. And also Sarah, Eleanor, Kelsey and Amelia. Oh, and Candice, Jared’s sister.”
“Who’s Jared?”
“He’s Sarah’s boyfriend. I think you’d like him. You met him, right?”
I’m sure I did, but right now, I can’t remember.
My sister’s eyes light up. “We should all get together soon! Like we did that night at Tuscany! That was so much fun.”
“Yeah, it was a blast,” I say weakly, grateful when the server approaches our table and sets our lunch specials in front of us. I thank him, and the moment he’s gone, I dig in.
And it’s just as good as I remember. Why is fried food so damn delicious?
“It’s a shame how there aren’t many people in here,” Caroline says as she twirls her fork in her chow mein. “I remember it always being so busy when we were kids.”
“It’s old,” I say, not caring that I have a mouthful of chicken. My sister probably doesn’t care either. I’ve done grosser stuff in front of her. “They need to fix it up a little. New paint. New windows. New lighting. New decorations. Fiercer dragons.”
Caroline smiles. “You always did love the dragons in here.”
“Yeah.” I shove aside the nostalgic emotions threatening to take over and focus on the here and now. Meaning my plate full of steaming hot food.
“I’ll talk with Stella and plan a get together. Probably in the next week, so keep your calendar open, okay?” My sister points her fork at me.
I nod, my mouth too full to talk. Like I have full calendar and need to mark off space in advance.
I give in to the impulse I’ve been fighting since I moved in with Stella and enter Sweet Dreams, breathing deep the pleasant aroma of coffee and freshly baked goods. It’s busy but not packed, and I’m guessing the lunch crowd is long gone since it’s after two in the afternoon. I position myself in the short line and check my phone, seeing that I have a couple of emails from previous clients, both of them wanting me to help sell their homes and hunt for a new one.
Without thought I forward both emails to my friend and former business partner in the office and ask Jeff to contact them. We made an agreement before I left that if I sent him any business and he sold them, I’d get a referral fee.
Looks like I’m gonna make a little money.
Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I check the coffee station, seeking Stella’s familiar dark brown hair and beautiful face. But I don’t see her. There’s an older gentleman working the espresso machine, and a teenage girl behind the register.
Huh.
When it’s finally my turn to order, I ask for a skinny vanilla latte and if Stella’s still working.
“Who wants to know?” the teenager asks snottily.
I’m momentarily taken aback by her question. Isn’t the customer always right? “Is she already off for the day?”
“Yeah, but she’s here. With our nonna.”
“Your what?”
The girl rolls her eyes. “Our grandma. Stella’s my cousin.” She looks me up and down, and I suddenly feel like I don’t measure up. “Who are you?”