Chapter 251: Look Like Sisters
- RAYA -
Dad sweeps into the resort quietly like he does in every other context of life—no big production, not eager to cause a scene. I wonder if he would prefer that we pretend he’s not here until he shows up at the ceremony tomorrow.
The thought gives me a little twinge of pain in my chest, and I shake it away in frustration. Why am I allowing thoughts like that? I guess Rory’s feelings about our father are infectious. That’s all it is.
Dad loves me. It’s never been a problem for me that these invisible boundaries exist around our everyday lives and that we only seem to come together for the big, important things. If it did bother me once, it was long ago.
Now I’m comfortable being independent, on my own, not incessantly bothered for details or news from an overbearing parent who checks in all the time. That’s what I tell myself. How would I know, though? How would I know what that’s like?
I play with the locket around my neck, staring at the phone that gave me this silent announcement of Dad’s arrival. Nana. She would have been the exception. Her gentle questions weren’t intrusive. She wasn’t overbearing. She cared, and she could sense when I needed to talk.
I wish she could be here. She would love Dex. I can just imagine it.
"Everything okay?"
I smile when Dex walks up, bringing the gentle breeze on his heels. It whips the hair around my face, and he brushes it away while he waits for my answer. His presence is a relief. It’s protective and loving, and that adoring gaze makes me feel ridiculous for allowing any melancholic emotions to worm their way into my thoughts and nibble at the corners of my joy.
"Yeah, everything’s okay. Dad is here." I lift my phone to indicate how I know.
"Oh." There’s a lilt to his voice that makes that one word sound so understanding. How can he be so understanding? He had two parents who loved him enough to shelter him from the dangerous part of their family. "Should we go meet him in the lobby?"
"He said they’ll come down and find us after they get settled in the room."
Dex pulls me into a loose embrace without another word, and the tight constriction in my lungs relaxes the minute he does. He’s become my home. I don’t need to worry about the lack of close relationships with my parents.
That’s what tomorrow is all about. We’re making this new home we have found in one another official. It’s not just about romance or a fantasy of some kind, even though I could totally make it that. It was romantic and whimsical of him to bring me here with the wedding as a surprise. But all of that is extra. What’s between us is this new world, this new life, this solid foundation that we can count on meeting every one of our steps as we walk into the future together.
"Everything is ready for tomorrow," he says, voice deep and resonant. It makes me smile. It’s so familiar—his voice, his presence. "Are you nervous?"
"No," I giggle and look up at him.
"Really?" He seems surprised.
"Okay, maybe a little," I admit. "I guess only because it’s such a big deal."
"It is a big deal," he agrees with a crooked smile. "If you get too nervous, just pretend it’s only me and you."
I take a deep breath in and nod, imagining it: walking through the trees or sand or whatever it may be with him waiting for me.
"Is it happening on the beach or somewhere else?" I ask, realizing how few details I actually have. "Am I allowed to know?"
"It’s not on the beach," he says, "but that’s all you get."
"We don’t have wedding rings." I pull back with the sudden panicked thought.
"I have it all taken care of." Dex smooths my hair and kisses my forehead. "Don’t worry about any of those details. There is something I want to run by you, though."
"Okay."
"What do you think about going somewhere else for the next week after the ceremony?"
"Somewhere else?" I look around at the pool area behind us. Rory and Luciano are still sitting in the shade, but they’ve ordered food and Luciano is helping cut something on my sister’s plate.
Dex follows my gaze. "Luci and Rory won’t be staying in Costa Rica after the ceremony either."
"I need to find out when her surgery will be," I tell him. "I’m not going to miss it."
"Okay," he says, tugging on my hips playfully. "We won’t miss it. Maybe we could just fly somewhere for a few days. Just us."
"Like where?"
"Anywhere my wife wants."
"Wife," I repeat, feeling a mad rush of fluttering wings spring to life in my chest. I’m really going to be that: Dex’s wife. "And what about my husband? Where will he want to go?"
A thoughtful smile spreads across his face. "Husband," he says with a soft chuckle. "I like the sound of that. But I want my wife to pick."
"Oh my god," Rory groans, walking up behind us. "You two are so cute, it should be illegal."
"And who are you to talk?" I laugh, glancing back to where Luciano is still sitting. He’s not following her like a shadow, but he’s watching her just as closely. "I saw Luciano cutting your food for you."
"That’s because my hand hurts," she says with a fake pout.
"But that’s your left hand," I point out.
"You need both hands to cut food, smarty pants," she says, rolling her eyes. "I’ll leave you two love birds alone. I’m just headed toward the bathroom."
"Oh." I glance at Dex, considering whether it’s a bad idea to pause this conversation. I’m not sure how he knows what I’m thinking, but he offers the slightest nod of encouragement for me to do just that. "I’ll come with you."
"You don’t have to do that," Rory groans and starts walking around me. "The bad guy is gone. You already tackled him, remember?"
Dex winks as I pull away from him.
"It’s not because of that. I have to pee," I lie, falling into step alongside her. "Dad’s here," I add.
"Oh." She stops briefly and looks back. "Then where is he?"
"Still getting settled," I shrug. "They’ll be down after."
Rory releases a loaded sigh but doesn’t say anything.
Once we’re done and washing our hands, I watch my sister in the mirror while she winces and tries to avoid her stitches. Rory is so beautiful. I wonder if she realizes it. I’ve always thought she was beautiful and secretly envied the dark hair that seems to cloak her in mystery. I dyed my hair brown once thinking I might look something like her, but it didn’t turn out that way.
"Which one of us do you think looks like mom?" I ask.
I’m not sure where the question comes from, and Rory appears to be wondering that as well. She pulls a towel free to dry her hands while she gives me a peculiar look.
"Both of us," she says in a quiet, almost begrudging way.
"But we don’t look alike," I frown.
"You don’t think we look alike?"
"No."
"Come here."
She tugs my hand and stares in the mirror. I do the same, unable to stop a smile from spreading because of how silly this is. Holding hands and staring in the mirror.
"I don’t see it," I admit.
"Do the annoyed face," she says, maintaining a serious expression herself.
"What?" I laugh.
"You don’t see it, because you are the bright, shining, happy light," she explains, which makes me scoff.
"You’re not happy, Roar?"
"That’s not the point." She gestures toward the mirror, and my attention focuses back on our reflections rather than on the real Rory standing next to me. "Pretend you’re annoyed, Raya. Trust me."
I sigh and shake myself a little, trying to get in the annoyed frame of mind. It’s not as hard as it should be. All I have to do is think of Hansen here in Costa Rica.
"Woah," Rory chuckles. "Annoyed, not livid. But actually that works, too. Stay like that."
Her expression darkens, her eyes narrow, and I notice the similarity. She’s right. We do look a little alike.
"Hmm." I smile thoughtfully, destroying the effect.
Rory allows her dark expression to lift, and then I realize she’s imitating me. It’s the lighter version of her—the version I see when she’s around Luciano. And we have similarities in these expressions, too.
"Okay, maybe we look like sisters."
"Of course we do," she laughs. "And you know who we don’t look much like?"
"Who?"
"Dad."
"Well, I have his blonde hair."
"Mom had blonde hair, too," she says like it’s some blatant, obvious fact.
We’re about to walk out the door, but hearing this detail makes me stop. There were never any pictures of our mother. No one ever wanted to talk about her. All I have is an image in my mind of her, which is probably created entirely by my imagination. I was so young when she left that there are no memories of her.
"What?" I ask with a small, confused laugh. "How do you know?"
Rory must realize her mistake, because her eyes drop and she starts fidgeting with her hands. "I found a picture once," she sighs.
"A picture? Where?" It feels like air has been knocked out of my lungs. "Why didn’t you show me?"
"I was surprised," she shrugs. "It was at Dad’s. I didn’t take it with me. I was snooping, and I was too surprised when I found it. It’s also not something that’s easy to just drop into conversation."
"Still! You should have dropped it into conversation."
"Maybe," she says, biting her lip. "It’s just awkward and sad."
I’m so stunned that all I can do for several moments is just stare at her. I’ve wondered all these years so many things about our mother, including what she looked like. But I’ve always shoved them down, tucked them away in that secret place in my heart where painful things go.
"What... what was the picture? How do you know it was her?"
The question feels like it’s tempting those painful things to resurface. Do I really want to know? I just decided that I don’t need to mourn the absence of a relationship with my parents now that I have Dex, but is that really true?
"It was a family picture," she says, cheeks beginning to color. "The three of you."
I sigh and close my eyes, allowing my mind to sketch an image of what it might have looked like before I tuck that away, too.
"How long ago was this?" I ask numbly.
"A few years ago. I’m sorry, Raya."
"No," I frown, eyes snapping open. "Don’t be. Forget it. You’re right. It’s not something that’s easy to just... bring up after all this time. Who cares what she looked like, right? She left."
"But we have each other," Rory says gently, grabbing hold of my hand and squeezing.
"You’re right," I sigh, squeezing back with a faint smile.
My heart feels tight, and that reminds me of Rory’s present issue. This is a stupid thing to get upset about in light of everything else.
"Come on, let’s go back," I say, leading the way out the door and through the hallway back to the pool area. "When’s your surgery? Do you know?"
"Surgery?" A familiar voice repeats in surprise, and I look over to see Dad standing in the lobby. "Lorelei needs surgery?"
