Family Ties

“Thanks. Now, you wanna help with dinner?”

“Not really. Think I’m gonna top off my drink and watch you.”

“Gee, some friend you are.”

We chatted as I finished the prep work. Then I joined him at the kitchen table to finish my own drink.

The girls were on the verge of tipsy when they came downstairs, but Wren looked a thousand times better, clean and refreshed. Christy avoided my eyes as she took a new bottle of wine out of the fridge. She couldn’t avoid me when I went to kiss her, though, and she realized too late that she smelled like lavender.

“If you aren’t going to help,” I said to Trip, “why don’t you and Wren take the wine and go relax for a while. Christy and I can finish everything here. Dinner in fifteen minutes?”

“Sounds awesome, dude.”

They went through the dining room and headed toward the octagon room.

The stereo started playing a moment later. Christy squeaked in surprise when

I grabbed her around the waist and lifted her to the counter. I kissed her before she could object too loudly.

“Mmm,” I breathed as I pulled back, “you smell nice.”

“Don’t act innocent.”

“Who’s acting?”

“You.”

“All right, you caught me. I was playing matchmaker with you and Wren.”

“But… why?” She shook her head with sudden irritation. “And why does everyone think it’s okay to play matchmaker with me?”

“I can’t answer the second question,” I said with a laugh, “but I can the first. It’s because I want you to be happy.”

“But… I am happy.”

“Okay, then I want you to be happi er.”

“Why can’t I be happier with just you?”

“You want the truth?”

She nodded.

“Because some people aren’t made to be happy with just one person. I think you’re one of them.”

“But I am. Happy. With you. Just one person.”

“Then tell me you don’t have feelings for Wren.”

“I don’t have feelings for Wren,” she parroted.

I gave her the full skeptic stare.

“I hate when you do that!”

“What?”

“See right through me.”

“Then don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!”

“You’re lying to me and to yourself.”

“I am not.”

I twitched an eyebrow.

“I’m not.”

“This above all,” I said, “to thine own self be true.”

“And…?” she said irritably.

“It means you have to be true to who you are. And you have to be honest with yourself before you can be honest with others.” I paused to decide what to say next. “You remember a couple of months ago, when you asked why I

didn’t have a girlfriend?”

She frowned at the non sequitur but eventually nodded.

“I told you I needed to find myself first, to be happy on my own before I could be happy with someone else?”

Another nod.

“That’s what I meant. I needed to be true ‘to mine own self’ before I could be true to someone else. ‘True’ can also mean balanced. So I had to find the balance that worked for me, the truth of who I am. I guess that’s when I ‘found’ myself, if that makes sense.”

“Yes, but… what’s it have to do with me?”

“Well, I think you could be more honest with yourself. You’re starting to, and telling yourself that you don’t have to be some Catholic schoolgirl—”

“Will you quit bringing that up!”

“I’m bringing it up to say you don’t do it much anymore.”

“I never did it in the first place,” she argued.

Mr. Skeptic made an appearance.

“You know, sometimes I really don’t like you.”

“Especially when I tell you things you don’t want to hear.”

“When you tell me things that are just wrong.”

I dialed back my skepticism, but she understood that it wasn’t gone completely.

She still didn’t give in, so I braced myself with my hands on the counter and settled in to wait her out. She was trapped, both literally and figuratively, and she knew it.

“Fine,” she said at last. “I need to be honest with myself.”

“Good,” I said without a hint of smugness. “But you already are. Starting to, at least. Like I said, you aren’t trying to be—”

“Look, I see where you’re going. Again. But will you do me a favor?”

“Sure. What?”

“Will you stop saying that? I actually was a Catholic schoolgirl. I didn’t have much choice, but I kinda liked it. So pick another word. Okay?”

“Fair enough.” I thought about it for a moment. “How about madonna?”

“Uh-uh. Makes me think of Madonna, the singer. Or the Madonna, the Virgin Mary, and I’m not ready to abandon everything I believe in.”

“Good point.”

“You’re so good with words,” she said earnestly. “Just… come up with something else.”

“Gimme a sec.” I thought about and discarded several others, mostly because they were insulting. “Okay, got it,” I said at last. “How about

‘paragon of virtue’?”

“‘Paragon’ means something perfect, right?”

“Mmm hmm.”

She thought about it for a moment and nodded.

“Okay. So… back to my original point. You’re starting to be honest with yourself, because you aren’t trying to be a paragon of virtue…” I raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I caught her pun and flashed a grin before I continued, “You also need to be honest about how you feel about Wren.”

“We’re just friends.”

I gazed at her steadily.