My Last Will and Testament. How gruesome, right?
I’d concluded: I’m done with bucket lists. Just doing shit from now on.
If I wanted extra cheese and bacon on my burger, then by God, I’d go for it. If I wanted to wear my bra on the outside of my shirt, so be it. Of course, Madonna already held the record for weirdest bra action, but hey, my bras didn’t have to be pointy or tasseled. I could rock a demi cup with lace and feel good about being a woman.
I’d ordered some legal software online. I figured I could get a jump start on my will all by myself. Not that I had much, but it was the thought that counted. I wanted to leave my Sex in the City DVD collection to some deserving person. I had that right. A lot of people had wills. If I wanted to name someone to take care of Joan, my personal sidearm, after I passed into the afterlife, I wanted to be sure she’d go to someone who would take care of her. Like Leo, for example. My gorgeous boyfriend. I couldn’t give her to Charlie, Violet’s little pug dog. Listing things prevented Joan from becoming a chew toy. See? I had it all worked out.
Of course, my plans to divvy up my few possessions were interrupted when I heard my name.
I looked up and shoved my laptop to the side as my sister, Violet, kissed me on the cheek. Her perfume about knocked me over. What the hell was she wearing? Formaldehyde? I didn’t hold my nose, but I grimaced.
P-freaking-hew.
We hugged briefly, feeling like I’d just been chloroformed. Or maybe I was headed into anaphylactic shock? Tough call. Either way, my eyes watered and my lungs burned.
“Hey,” I said, trying not to cough. “I’m so happy you could meet me for lunch.” I coughed, and then I turned my head to the side, gulping a deep breath. But all I could smell was her perfume stench. Her birthday was in two weeks. I made a mental note to buy her a couple of bars of soap. Surely, she’d take the hint? I didn’t want to mention it now since she’d driven to see me.
My sister appeared stylishly in a tan trench coat with a red scarf around her neck. Her dark hair was drawn up in a messy knot, and her gray eyes sparkled with just a touch of barely-there makeup.
Violet took a seat across from me, bubbling with energy—the kind that could be annoying, but I loved this about her. In a word: she was vibrant. No matter where she went, she gave off a light that was infectious. A rarity in today’s jaded world.
“I’m so happy George’s wrestling match was only thirty minutes away,” she said, beaming. “This gave me a great reason to meet my one and only sister for lunch. How are you, doll face?”
My sister married a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound pro wrestler. They lived in my hometown, Livingston, and they had a dog named Charlie. Their quaint life revolved around George’s career. Nothing wrong with that. Violet ran her husband’s fan club and managed his online presence, while George got to beat the crap of fit guys in color underwear. Nice, huh? I’m happy that she’s happy. ‘Nuff said.
“I’m okay,” I said. Though I wasn’t sure if I was okay. I certainly didn’t have Violet’s lease on life nor her exuberant vitality. If anything, I was a robot, just going through the motions.
Her eyebrow shot up. “C’mon, sweets,” she said in a concerned tone. “You can tell me how you really are. How are things with Leo?”
Ah. Leo Grayson. My sexy man meat. He was over six feet of hard muscle, so perhaps I’d need a forklift to move him. We’d been an item two years ago, but I’d walked away out of fear, not believing I could balance a career and a man. Foolish, I knew, but I’d been desperate for independence, wanting to be a god over my remote control. Always the little things. No, but seriously, I’d been relationship shy and regretted giving him up. But he was mine again. I might have to marry him so I could call him my ball and chain. I never thought of myself as the settling down type, but I could totally share the remote control now.
“Leo and I are solid,” I said, fisting my hand, and then I air pumped. Crap, even I didn’t believe it. My burst of confidence waned and I rubbed my hand over the pressure constricting my chest. “Yeah, just like that I feel responsible for a zombie apocalypse or murdering a sack of kittens.” I heaved a deep sigh. “Shit, I’m miserable. I’ve only been home for two hours, but I miss him.” I still remember Leo’s hug and kiss before I drove away. He had promised to visit and spend the weekend with me, but I wasn’t sure if I could make it until then. I had it bad for him. My man had me dick-whipped and dangling from an addiction string.
Violet reached across the table, taking my other hand. “Hey, don’t do that. Leo is crazy about you. That man would take a bullet for you.” She winced a little as if regretting that comparison. “Besides, you only live three hours away from each other, so maybe you can do the weekend thing and late-night calls.” Her gray eyes took on a devilish gleam. “Sexting might be fun. George and I do that sometimes. It keeps things fresh.”
A little bile suddenly burned the back of my throat. “Ew. Don’t go there.” While my brother-in-law might be beef-cakey cute, I didn’t want to imagine his name and sexting in the same sentence. Barf. “Boundaries, sister mine.”
My sister rolled her eyes. “The point is…you and Leo can make a long-distance relationship work if you want to. Just be creative,”
Copyright © 2020 Beth Mikell
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