by Tracy Ellen
Mia giggled and declared ruefully, “Sometimes I wish Jazy would lie.”
I exclaimed to Mia, “You?” I patted Jazy’s hand and smiled fondly. “Try living with her honest bluntness for twenty-six years.”
Jazy retorted, “Yeah, I came out of the ol’ vag canal spouting truths.”
I smiled and shrugged. “Rumor did have it the doctor didn’t need to smack your butt…”
“That’s our Jazy.” Max’s deep laughter rang out in the small room while his gaze ran over my sister.
I wondered if Mia was feeling their vibes because his glance was hot enough to scorch a path across the tablecloth. While he laughed, I’d checked his teeth. They were even squares of dazzling white, no overbite or vampire incisor in sight.
There was a hint of appraisal in his dark eyes when he said to me, “James has mentioned your interesting dinner parties…,” at his well-timed pause and devilishly innocent expression, I laughed because James was present when evil Aunt Lily kicked the bucket. It had been quite a night, “and he has told me a few stories about you and your other sisters.” His voiced teased, “I feel deep sympathy for your brother.”
“Well then, Max Byrd, obviously James didn’t tell you the right stories about us,” I demurred, smiling.
The girls cheered loudly as Max laughed again. He leaned back in his chair while casually flipping his hair black hair off a wide shoulder and propping one leg across the other.
He was wearing a black buttoned-down shirt and jeans. His hand-tooled leather boots probably cost more than my bookstore made in a week, but his manner was open and easy. Already Jazy-approved and a good friend, as well as cousin, of James’, I was predisposed to like Max Byrd. He was a masculine, handsome, self-secure, alpha male used to charming the panties off women, so that didn’t hurt his cause any, either.
I sighed, sipped my champagne, and resolutely did not think of Luke Drake.
Jazy’s boot tapped my leg under the table. That was my signal to begin my predesignated role in Jazy’s Circus Freak Dating Plan from our parking lot strategy.
I said, “Hey, when I first saw you dancing tonight, there was no doubt in my mind you had to be a close relative of James’ that I’d never heard of before. When he told me your name, it didn’t ring a bell,” I smiled and wagged a teasing finger, “but you two are both so darn homely, I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence.”
I have to give the guy credit; Max only hesitated the merest microsecond at the proof that Jazy had never mentioned him to me before he played along and pretended to be horrified. “Oh, say I’m not as ugly as Cousin James?”
While we joked about how ugly James was, Jazy excused herself to “go take a piss.”
I liked Max more for including Mia in the conversation. He politely inquired how we came to be second cousins related by marriage.
I drank more champagne while Mia started in by proudly announcing she was a direct descendant of the great patriot, Manuel Besosa.
I smiled behind my crystal flute at Max’s encouraging, if blank, smile at that proclamation.
By the time Mia got done with her arm-waving, eyes-flashing, fist-pounding explanations, the agog Max Byrd had heard a roundabout, convoluted, and heavily expurgated version that Mia was a reformed anarchist and smuggler, and now my protégé. In her spare time off from working in her second cousin’s grocery store, who had inexplicably married my much older sister, she was about to start a foundation with the assistance of his most wonderful and brilliant cousin, James Byrd.
Upon that final nostril-flaring declaration, Max’s glance over towards me was a little dumbstruck.
I grinned in return and raised my glass to the sophisticated, expert womanizer my sister wanted to date like a regular girl.
“Say, I have a great idea, Max. Why don’t you have James bring you along to Sunday dinner at my apartment tomorrow night at five sharp? It won’t be a late night,” after a glance towards the dining room, I beckoned him forward to whisper, “and I don’t want to hurt your multiple Chefs’ egos,” I rolled out the big guns, “but it’s company meatloaf the likes of which you’ve never tasted in your wildest dreams.”
He met my eyes for a second while I nodded solemnly and Mia exclaimed, “My God, I love company meatloaf. I’m coming, too!”
“I’m with Mia. Company meatloaf rocks.” His smile grew. “Screw ugly Cousin James, I’m there, with or without him.”
Mia slammed a fist on the table and the dishes jumped. “Yes, screw ugly cousins!”
I looked sharply at Mia, but she gazed back with blazing eyes and a wide, innocent smile.
Max’s shoulders were shaking when Jazy came back into the room and announced it was time for us to hit the road.
I swallowed the last gulp of champagne and we said our goodbyes. Jazy acted suitably surprised when Max bragged he was invited for company meatloaf tomorrow night.
She patted his cheek. “Bel’s a good cook. Make sure she saves a piece for me.”
Max’s smile faltered slightly. “Why, aren’t you going to be there?”
“No, I have date.”
Max put his hands on his hips and smirked. “Yeah, right. You don’t date.” His eyes narrowed on my sister’s face. “Spit it out, what are you really doing?”
“Seriously, I have a date.” She shrugged. “I know, pretty crazy, right? What can I say; I’m turning over a new leaf to a new me.”
Max gaze smoldered. “Why? The old you seems perfect to me.”
Jazy dimpled and glanced over at Mia and me. “See why I keep him around?”
I nodded enthusiastically. “What a little cutie you are, Max Byrd. Every girl should have a friend like you to bolster her self-confidence before a big date.”
“Thanks,” Max replied tonelessly. “It’s a big date, huh? Do I know the lucky man?”
“No, and neither do I.” Jazy laughed a little in embarrassment. “It’s a set up.” With her high heels on, Jazy could almost look Max in the eye. She gazed into his expressionless face that must be a Byrd genetic trait. “For the first time in my life, I want to like a man. I want to go out and get to know each other. I want to respect him, maybe even wife him, in my own way,” she smiled at that taboo word that frightened grown men. In a voice intimately soft, she said, “Max, I want a man to like me, to know me. I want all the magic.”
Max and Jazy stared at each other until Mia tugged on Jazy’s arm and whined, “Come on, show me to the bathroom.”
We all waved and left. I glanced back. Max was frowning after Jazy, a frustrated man that had more to say, but wasn’t sure what or why.
Once we were out of hearing range, Mia skipped backwards in front of us and her eyes were sparkling when she said to Jazy. “Did I do good? I could tell you were up to something ever since I saw you out there dancing with that other guy. I wanted to help, but I wasn’t sure what to do.”
Jazy and I gaped at her.
She laughed. “I am the youngest of five sisters.”
Jazy said slowly, “I think your protégé did good considering she was winging it. Do you think so, Bel?”
“If you heard her with Max while you were in the bathroom, you’d say my protégé did fantastic!” I snickered, “Gimme five, no make that ten, Miss-I-Love-Company-Meatloaf-Besosa.”
We slapped hands while she warned, “I am coming to dinner tomorrow night, Cousin. My shift ends at four.”
While we waited for Mia to use the ladies, we looked around for James, but he was nowhere to be found in the main rooms. Jazy only giggled when I suggested that a truly courteous guest would search all the closets in the house to say their goodbyes.
Jazy was hugging herself, eyes looking inward in dreamy contemplation of being a regular girl that didn’t have lots of hot sex when I interrupted her reverie. “About the revenge plan for Luke...”
She smiled in anticipation, dark brows arched in question.
“I have something I need to do first, so we’ll have to hold off for a few days.”
Jazy’s drowsy blue eyes shot wide open and she protested, “The hell with that! You know my revenge plans work best when hot.”
I eyed her in return, not too surprised Jazy’s plans worked in the opposite. “Can you please humor me? This once, can we serve a revenge plan not only cold, but with a long spoon? Say a week from today?”
Jazy’s face went mulish and she crossed her arms.
I smiled and tickled her ribs, but she pushed my hand away and frowned harder.
The thing about fourth sisters; they were not necessarily spoiled, but by birth order, they were cosseted. Often mistaken for amiable types, it would be more factual to say they’re notoriously headstrong and generally operated on emotions versus logic to make their decisions. A fourth sister appeared easygoing on the surface because they were used to getting their own way without much effort. They rarely had reasons to throw the fits that gave second sisters such a bad rep.
Sister’s number one, two, and three routinely went through the hell of breaking all the family rules and regulations, often draining the adults into pale facsimiles of their once robust, disciplinarian selves. After having the road to ruin paved for them by their three older siblings, as long as any following sisters stayed out of jail, they could get away with practically anything without much effort or ingenuity.
I was sorry to butt in on Jazy’s revenge plan business with my request because I was proud of my younger sister’s hard work ethic. She could so easily be a lazy bum and nobody would blink twice or expect more.
I flashed a hopeful, beguiling smile. “You can devise the plan, but please, pretty please, all I ask is that you hold off implementation for one, short week. It’s life or death important.”
Third sisters were notoriously good manipulators. Some number three’s might prefer the word negotiators or mediators, call it whatever you like so you could sleep at night, but a third sister worth her number needed to be able to work the room or she’d never get her way.
The key to giving great manipulation was to be sincere and never outright lie, if you could help it, as Jazy had demonstrated in her handling of Max. The personalities involved should be considered when devising plans, as well. For example, Jazy rarely lied. When we discussed that part of the strategy concerning her supposed “Big Date”, it made sense that Jazy stick with honest responses she could make without feeling like a deceitful piece of crapola.
Also, if your manipulation was discovered, the target wasn’t nearly as mad if you hadn’t outright lied to their face. Nobody enjoyed being made a fool, regardless how easy they made it to do so.
The un-cousin’s life was hanging in the balance due to her putting Jazy and Tre in danger at that farm earlier tonight. My sister didn’t know that, and I couldn’t have Jazy mess up my revenge plans on their behalf with her retaliation against Luke on my behalf. If something happened to the praying mantis and Luke in the same time period, a couple of valets and the Chicago Fab Four could connect the dots back to my sister cursing on that front porch. That was not acceptable, so Jazy had to back off on Luke’s beat down.
“Oh, alright,” Jazy agreed, clearly not happy. With a scowl, she warned, “But I can’t guarantee my revenge efforts will be as successful.”
It was also the role of the third sister to offer advice to the fourth sister. It was a true story that number fours took advice easier from a third sister than any other. They knew the thirds had no mothering issues or the desire to boss the fours around.
“Hey, this could actually be a blessing in disguise for your Lost and Found future business, Jaz.”
“I don’t see the fuck how,” she sniffed with a huff.
“If you work on a revenge plan for a full week, think of the tweaking you can do. I bet the cold plan will be your best work yet and become your new favorite mode of attack.” I grinned, as Jazy’s pout slowly turned up. “Go with me here. The dickheads on your shit list will believe life has settled down nicely, when BAM!” I smacked the side of my fist on the wall, “revenge hits them broadside and knocks them on their self-satisfied, rotten little keisters.”
She nodded, lips twitching upwards. “I like it.” She grinned and punched my shoulder lightly. “Now take my advice and learn to swear, Bel. None of this polite girly-girl, nerdy crap. I mean, what the fuck is a ‘keister’?” She mocked me in a Scandinavian accent heavy on the “Os” “Ooh, my name is Anabel Axelrod, and I’m so badass I will knock you on your keister, so be scared of me.”
I didn’t argue with Jazy’s advice, that didn’t work with a fourth sister--actions worked. I demonstrated exactly what a keister was by kicking hers while we waited outside a few minutes later for one of the valets to retrieve Mia’s car.
The remaining valets on duty judged us while Jazy, Mia, and I competed by jumping off the side ledge of the front stairs and over James’ sculpted yews to land on the grass. The valet-judges yelled out points awarded by our toe touches in mid-air followed by gymnastically perfect landings. No points were earned when we body-clipped the shrubs or screwed up the landing.
Jazy limped by me and grumbled that I had the edge on them due to my epic splits, but I think it had more to do with feeling no pain from all the champagne I’d drank, no matter how many times I hit the stiff bushes or tumbled onto the grass.
Waiting outside in the cold in the wee hours of a winter night had never been more enjoyable. Immature maybe, but exercise was a surefire way not to think about Luke Drake.
The valets agreed with us that it was a damn shame adults grew out of playing night games outside. We would all appreciate the occasional dose of carefree fun much more at our age. Mia’s car pulled under the portico, as I asked my protégé to remind me to bring up the idea of night games to Tre J’s attention for our day of serious exercise.
I smiled when Mia diligently entered a note in her phone and promised that she would. She reminded me to remember to invite her, too. I nodded agreeably, thinking she was pretty cute, if a little pushy. I had a concern Mia might be too intense with her save the world causes, but she was fun, too. Having a protégé wasn’t such a bad deal.
I expected her to get into the waiting car, but she stood there with arms crossed and stared at me. When I stared back, her black brows touched in a spectacular frown. When I continued to stare, her thin nostrils flared while her shoe started tapping.
Mia was another example of a headstrong female sibling, only she was more closely related to a feral animal at sixth in the family sister pecking order and needed to be handled accordingly. You could not show fear, only complete dominance worked to win her number.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked, as Jazy laughed and climbed in the back seat.
Mia nodded towards my purse. “You should note the reminder in your phone like I did.”
“Uh, hell to the no.”
“But, Anabel,” her tone was plaintive and her brown eyes accusing, “what if you then forget to invite me to the serious exercise day?”
“Then I guess you won’t get any serious exercise that day,” I responded with a shrug. The girl clearly had left behind issues. “Let’s go, Mia Culpa, I’m getting cold in these wet jeans.”
She gasped in affront, a hand to her heart.
Jazy suggested snidely, “Mia, give it up trying to work Bel about cell phones and concentrate on the important social media like Twitter.”
“Tweet this,” I twirled a middle finger over my shoulder to Jazy and then pointed it at Mia. “Remember, you sweet protégé, me badass boss. Phones are a necessary evil, but anything more than the basics is not happening in this lifetime.”
We both got into the car. I joined in Jazy’s laughter when Mia cast me a fulminating glare, said something incredibly dirty-sounding in Spanish under her breath, and then muttered, “You are a necessary evil.”
Jazy warned in a scary voice, “Oooh, watch out, Mia, or you might get knocked on your queister.”
Mia looked quizzically in the rearview mirror. “What the fuck is a queis
ter, Jazy?”
I groaned and answered before Jazy, “It’s a keister, not queister, and just kill me now. One night with my sister and my protégé turns into an illiterate potty mouth.”
“Hey, I resemble that!” Jazy declared, snickering at my pained glance.
While Mia was driving and searching for a podcast on her phone, Jazy leaned up against my seat and said, “I’ve been checking the local news throughout the night. Nothing.”
It took me a second to recall why I’d be interested in the local news report. Farmer Gus’s death felt as if it happened days ago, not hours. I wondered how Stinky was faring with Kenna, and if that was the reason she wasn’t at the party tonight.
Thankfully, Mia was unable to locate the podcast she wanted me to listen to about small business marketing. But for the rest of the drive home, Mia still determinedly instructed me on the benefits a small business owner could derive from the correct use of various social media platforms and search engines.
I politely listened while I took a little nap, so that I wouldn’t dwell on the numb heartache of Luke Drake or the gory memory of the farmer. It felt as if only seconds passed before Jazy touched my shoulder.
Rolling the kinks from my neck, I thanked Mia for driving tonight and for her impressive knowledge of SEOs, HTMLs, XMLs, and other assorted letter combinations. I explained that during my short nap, her information had already been initiated from my hippocampus into my neocortex. I assured her that once I fell asleep again, the data would pass into my brain’s hard drive to be safely and permanently stored.
Mia grinned happily. In her seemingly endless research on the internet, she’d heard positive results from studies that were conducted on sleeping student’s learning and retention capabilities.
Jazy rolled her eyes and warned, “Be careful you get off the computer and get outside more, Mia, or you could grow up to be a big nerd like my sister.”
Mia’s smile was amused. “But I want to grow up to be a big nerd like Anabel. I am a big nerd, too.” In a lightning fast mood swing, Ms. Feral glared at me. “That is also why I want to be invited to the serious exercise day.”