“Austin, Texas. Savannah, Georgia. Brooklyn, New York. Denver, Colorado. Rome, Italy. Juno—Wait? You’re twins, right?” Brigette asks Rome.
Rome sets his hand on the back of Juno’s chair. “To answer the first question, they did spell Juno differently because she’s always been the unique one in our family. The only one with red hair.” He nods down to her, and I watch her swallow down the lump in her throat. “And it was a layover in Denver on their way to Rome. It could be that I should be Denver and he should be Rome but…”
Brigette laughs and nods. “What about Kingston?” She looks at me. “Where’s that from?”
“Jamaica,” I say.
Brigette elbows Juno. “Your parents really got it on, huh?”
Juno smiles, but it slips right off her face when she turns away from Brigette. “Yeah, they did.”
“Rome’s following in their footsteps. Harley is pregnant with number four already,” Brigette says.
Speak of the devil, Harley comes outside, and Rome slides his arm around her waist, kissing her temple. “If we’re lucky.”
“Lucky for what?” she asks.
“To have nine kids like my parents.”
Harley smacks his stomach and shakes her head.
“Nine?” Jason coughs out his water. “You come from a family of nine? I didn’t realize there were nine of you.”
Rome’s eyes scrunch. “Where are you from?”
“Greywall,” Jason answers, pride in his tone. He obviously didn’t grow up in Greywall because the Bailey name is well-known.
“You should move to Lake Starlight,” Rome says. “Greywall sucks.”
“How long does the pesto meal take?” Juno asks, and Rome’s gaze falls to hers.
“I’m sure Rome can put a rush on it,” Harley says. “Actually, I think Len was struggling a little bit in the kitchen.”
“Okay.” Rome knocks his knuckles on the table. “Nice meeting you, Jason. I should give you hell because Juno’s my sister, but I think the guy to your right will take care of that for all us Bailey men. Right, Colton?”
Jason’s and Brigette’s heads turn toward me. Juno rolls her eyes. If I had my way, he wouldn’t even be here. I’d have some magic powers to make him disappear.
“Why did he say that?” Jason asks Juno.
She sits up straighter in her chair and her gaze darts from me to Jason. “We’re childhood friends.”
“Childhood?” Brigette asks.
So I haven’t been completely honest with her about Juno. She knows we’re good friends, but maybe not how long we’ve been friends.
“Yeah. She’s my best friend,” I say in the hopes that Juno will remember why we’re friends. Forget the fight at the diner and move on.
“Best?” Brigette asks, her gaze volleying between Juno and me.
“Yeah, I’ve seen him at his worst. To me, he’s just a kid with chicken legs and Oreos stuck in his braces.” Juno laughs.
“And I knew her when she was still stuffing her bra,” I say, hammering back an equal insult.
“Oh, so you’re really close.” I hear in Brigette’s tone that she’s silently asking if this is something she should worry about.
Juno puts her hand on Brigette’s shoulder. “He’s just like another one of my brothers.”
Brigette’s vision shifts to me and I force a smile although it feels as if someone shot me in the heart with a dagger.
Our salads arrive and Rome sends over a complimentary bottle of wine. While Jason concentrates all his attention on Brigette, going back to their conversation about Marseilles, I pull my phone out of my pocket.
Me: I’m sorry. Forgive me?
Brigette glances at me and I mouth “work” to her. Lying doesn’t feel good, but the way Brigette asked about Juno and me being close friends says I made the right choice when I originally described our friendship to her.
“Oh, hold on one sec,” Juno says, pulling out her phone when it dings.
Neither Jason or Brigette give her a second glance, talking about boat rides or castles or something. I watch Juno as I fork my salad, her two thumbs poised over the phone. My phone vibrates in my pocket.
Juno: I’m sorry too. I’ll try harder.
Me: I know this is different.
Juno: She’s nice. I’m glad you found someone so nice.
Although that empty pit that’s resided in my stomach all week disappears with her forgiveness, things are still awkward. But I guess I have to assume that’s the way it will be now.
Me: Jason’s nice.
I really need to stop lying so much.
Juno: He is, and he seems very into your fiancée.
I look up from my phone and see that neither of them have touched their salads. You’d think the two of them were on a date.
Me: Maybe we should leave and see if they even notice?
Juno: :P We should probably try to join the conversation.
Before I can respond, Juno puts her phone back inside her purse. I guess that’s the end of that.
“Who was that?” Brigette asks the minute I put my phone away. I knew she saw the exchange. She’s got the vision of a sharpshooter.
“It was Mrs. Lopez about her cat,” I say.
She nods because Mrs. Lopez calls every other day about some new ailment she thinks her cat has.
The waitress arrives with our main dishes and it’s only then Jason realizes he never ate his salad, so we all shift around the plates so that he and Brigette can eat their salads with their pasta.
“This is so yummy. It must have been wonderful growing up with Rome cooking for you,” Brigette says to Juno.
“He’s only a year older than me, so we were grown before he could really cook me a meal that wasn’t mac and cheese.”
“Oh yeah,” Brigette says. “I guess I didn’t realize you were so close in age. Maybe because he’s married with kids, he seems older.”
I inwardly cringe as I twirl my fork around the pasta.
“Yeah, I’m just the loser sister,” Juno says.
Jason says nothing, finally eating his salad.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it—”
“I know. It’s fine. Sorry. I’m not being very good company tonight.” Juno twirls her own fork.
I’m hoping Rome’s pesto will help boost
