Poinsettia Lane

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

FRANKIE SWAGGERS THROUGH the front door to interrupt Everly’s mind-blowing reflections, and immediately stops when they see her. Tilting their face and narrowing their eyes, Frankie plants both feet on the floor as though preparing for a throw down.

“Why do you look weird?” they ask.

“Gee, thanks,” Everly gripes. “I’m just nervous! This is a big event.”

“Nope. Not buying it. You do this every year and you get anxious every year and I know you. I know what your anxiety looks like, and this,” Frankie waves their hand up and down to encompass Everly’s entire body, “isn’t it.”

Frankie closes the remaining distance between them in three slow strides, giving her a narrow-eyed ‘tell me or I’ll pry it from your cold dead lips’ look.

“And here I thought I cleaned up nice, all things considered,” Everly mutters under her breath and rolls her eyes at her best friend, but knows she can’t keep anything from them. Here goes this authenticity thing again. “I just… can’t stop thinking about that guy.”

Frankie interrupts with a dramatic gasp, saying “Hot Delivery Guy? Oh, I am so here for this,” then yanks her arm, pulling her away from the bustle of the caterers and into a side hallway where they have some semblance of privacy.

“Alright, spill,” they demand.

Everly puffs out her cheeks before letting the exhale trickle out.

“Yes, Hot Delivery Guy. He… well, I think we kind of hi t it off?” It feels more real to say it out loud to someone else than it did just thinking it in her head. A little more absurd too.

Everly tries to remember the last time she went on a date or flirted with someone, and she’s pretty sure it’s been many months, if not a year or more.

Frankie’s lips tighten and then they roll them between their teeth, trying to hold in a smile.

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know. There was definitely flirting, but you should have seen me. I was such a wreck, Frankie. I hadn’t gotten ready at all yet, and I was this weird combination of nervous and excited at the same time. I think I rambled, like, a lot, but also I might be remembering it wrong and maybe I didn’t say any of it out loud?”

Frankie gives in and lets out their contagious, booming laugh. Everly allows herself a self-deprecating chuckle alongside them.

“It’s about time you got back out there, girl. I can’t remember the last time you went on a date.” Frankie’s comments echo her own thoughts.

“I know, I know. I don’t think it was really anything though, he didn’t ask for my number and I only know his first name and that he delivers plants. There’s nothing to follow up on, really.”

Although they don’t live in a big city, it isn’t so small that she’s likely to run into him by accident, especially considering that she’s lived in Stone Ridge her whole life and has never seen him before. She’d remember someone like that if she did. Everly gives what she hopes is a nonchalant shrug in an effort to cover the spike of sadness at the thought of never seeing him again, and turns to go back to the other room.

“Hey,” Frankie stops her with a hand on her arm. “If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out. You deserve some happiness in your life, so don’t give up on him just yet. You never know.”

Everly nods, but doesn’t put much stock in their words.

“Alright, I’m gonna hang back here, man the kitchen staff and whatnot, but come find me if you need to, okay? I’ll keep an eye out. ”

“Thanks, Frankie.” Everly smiles at her friend, so very grateful to have someone like them in her life.

She heads back out to the driveway, ready to do one final walkthrough before anyone arrives. The event coordinator is off to the side talking into her headset, the party planner next to her. Honestly, Everly’s not sure how their roles are different, but she hires these two every year. They work spectacularly together and it always turns out well, so she doesn’t particularly care. If it takes some of the worry and pressure off her plate, she’s happy to do it.

The pair walk up the stairs and step inside, making tiny adjustments here and there as needed. Everly is happy with the decor this year. Instead of over the top glittering and gold decorations as she’s done in the past, this year features a more minimal style. The large pine tree is adorned with simple white lights and glows beautifully. There are fresh pine boughs with pinecones and burgundy holly berries on the window sills, with small white twinkle lights threaded throughout. The poinsettias are arranged in clusters and raised groupings around the tree and furniture, small fairy lights hidden amongst the foliage giving them an ethereal glow from beneath. The chandelier is on a dim setting so the entire room has a softer feel. The gentler, more natural decorations give Everly a sense of peace, which won’t last once everyone arrives, but she’s happy to enjoy it while she can.

Everly thanks the party planner and excuses her to go take a break before any guests arrive, then sits back down on the same chaise that Asim had placed her on earlier. Was that only a few hours ago? It feels like days, weeks ago at this point. As Everly looks around, she feels a sense of relief that it is nearly done, compounded with a lingering apprehension that the only thing left is to get through the party itself.

Sooner than she would hope, yet inevitably of course, the guests start to arrive. Her parents’ friends from all over the country stroll through her front door, as well as the local city council members. Elegant evening gowns, sparkling jewelry, crisp suits and shiny shoes adorn the wealthy couples that arrive arm in arm. This is the part Everly despises the most. Pompous cheek kissing, delicate hugs where each person barely touches the shoulder of the other, fake smiles and, of course, the ever present “wish they were here” comments regarding her parents who have been buried for years.

Everly isn’t prepared for one particular guest though, and heart stops in her chest when someone who looks eerily like her estranged sister, Addison, steps through the front door. Everly blinks, then spins away, scrunches her eyes closed, opens them and turns back.

The woman is still there, greeting an elderly couple she walked in behind, a beaming smile on her face.

“Addison?” Everly’s voice is soft, but somehow her sister hears it and her eyes jump up, searching the crowd in the foyer until they lock onto Everly’s.

Addison’s mouth curves into a softer, more tentative smile, as she extricates herself from the couple and weaves her way over to Everly.

“Hey,” she says, her voice equally soft.

“Hi,” Everly says, dumbfounded, her brain completely offline.

“Hi,” Addison says, her quiet smile turning into a mischievous grin. One Everly remembers all too well.

“It’s really you,” Everly voices her thought out loud, and Addison nods.

“It’s really me.”

“What…” Everly doesn’t know what to say. Her mind is blank.

“Is there somewhere we can talk for a minute?” Addison says, and Everly walks in a daze past the kitchen, ignoring a gaping Frankie, and down the hallway to the laundry room, of all places.

“I guess this works,” Addison says, quirking another tentative smile at Everly.

She’s unable to return it.

“This is weird,” Addison grimaces and her shoulders start to bunch up near her ears.

Everly lets out a surprised huff of a laugh. “Yeah, it really is.”

“Should we start over?” Addison suggests.

“I think that would be good.” Everly sticks out her hand. “Hi, I’m Everly, your long lost, very awkward sister.”

Now it’s Addison’s turn to laugh. Shaking her head, she politely inquires, “Would a hug be okay? I’m more of a hugger than a shaker,” before enfolding Everly in the comfiest, warmest hug she has felt in years. Everly’s eyes prick with tears while she holds onto her sister for a significantly longer-than-average hug.

As they pull apart, Everly swipes at her eyes and tries not to notice her sister mirroring the movement.

“Everything looks amazing, Ev,” Addison says, calling Everly by her childhood nickname. “The house, the gala…”

“Thanks,” Everly draws the word out, feeling thrown off by her sister’s apparent nonchalance. “So…”

“Um, yeah.” Addison wrings her hands together and looks down at her feet. “I should have RSVPed, or at least given you a heads up, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” Everly’s head is going to explode. This is the most uncomfortable moment of her entire life, and she has no idea how to fix it.

“Okay, um,” Addison turns her eyes back up to Everly’s. “I wanted to say, thanks for letting me be here.”

“Sure, of course.” Everly’s mouth is working on auto-pilot at this point.

A heavy, awkward silence descends between them, only broken by the distant hum of the party. Everly’s eyes drift to the door, though she doesn’t want to be back at the party any more than she wants to remain here for another moment.

“We should probably get back out there,” Addison says. “Can we catch up later?”

“Right, yeah,” Everly says, her brain in a fog as she trails her sister back to the front of the house.

Addison hasn’t attended one of these events since their parents died. Eight freaking years ago. Then she randomly shows up, without RSVPing, no notice or heads up, and waltzes right in the front door with a smile on her face?

This must be another nightmare.

Dream?

Whatever. Either way, there’s no way this is reality. If she’s not dreaming, Everly must be hallucinating .

She ducks into the kitchen rather than going back to the foyer and continuing to greet guests, needing a moment to sort herself out. Before she can so much as clasp her hands to her head, Frankie is there.

“What the hell?” Frankie whisper-shouts as soon as she sees Everly. Their brows have disappeared under their floppy hair, and their eyes show white all the way around. They look how Everly feels.

“I…” Everly spins in a circle, her eyes darting around for answers, and Frankie grabs her shoulders to stop her. Everly shakes her head, though she doesn’t know what she’s saying no to.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asks.

Everly’s head, of its own volition, continues to twist back and forth.

Frankie nods. “Okay, it’ll be fine. We’ve got this.”

They steer Everly to the sink and turn the water on cold, then stick her hands under it. Everly jerks in their grip, her eyes refocusing and coming back to meet Frankie’s concerned gaze.

“Big breath,” Frankie says, and Everly sucks air deep into her lungs.

“And out slowly,” Frankie continues, “focus, Everly.”

They search her gaze, eyes flitting back and forth between hers, and their eyes soften from concern into something a little less imperative.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Everly says, “okay.”

“Good. Now. You have guests to greet.” Frankie hands over a towel to dry her hands. “We can have a breakdown or whatever you need to do later. Yeah?”

Everly nods, muttering a quick “later” to herself.

Frankie snags the towel back and then turns Everly toward the foyer, giving her a hearty pat on the back.

“You’ve got this.”

Everly pushes her shoulders back with another slow breath, tips her chin up, and steps back into the party, doing her best to keep the swirling thoughts at bay.

Everyone looks genuinely surprised to see Addison, which results in more than a few sideways glances between the two of them when people think she isn’t looking. Luckily, Addison is eager and ready for the attention; she doesn’t look even half as uncomfortable as Everly feels.

Everly watches from the sidelines as Addison returns smiles and hugs, asking after people’s businesses and families as though she hasn’t missed any of the gossip from the last eight years. Everly is floored by this woman. Her sister has always been bubbly and outgoing, but in a more reckless and immature way. She supposes that’s because she hasn’t really known Addison since she moved out for college, and Everly shouldn’t be surprised this is how she’s turned out.

She fits in with this crowd perfectly.

Everly, on the other hand, has never fit in here. She doesn’t like the person she pretends to be around all of her parents’ old friends and acquaintances, but doesn’t know how to be anyone else either since this is who she’s been for years; it’s who they expect her to be.

Frankie keeps telling her how wonderful the event is going, that everyone is happy and having a good time, to stop worrying, but everywhere she turns, she either sees Addison, or she sees flowers. Brilliant red poinsettias popping out at her no matter where she looks, reminding her of Asim and heating her cheeks.

Asim, who she wants to see again but doesn’t know how to contact. Asim, with his kindness and charm, who somehow brought out a different side of her, one she thinks she likes. Asim, who gives her even more nervous butterflies in her tummy than she normally gets when she goes out in public, but for some reason she doesn’t hate in this scenario. Asim and his biceps, barely contained in that t-shirt, that she wants to wrap her hands around to see if her fingers will touch or not.

Asim, who will not get out of her freaking head.

A few flustered hours and many glasses of champagne later, the party is finally winding down. The guests trickle out, repeating the same polite lines and gestures as when they arrived. Addison stands by the door with her, saying goodbyes and offering well wishes, which makes Everly feel slightly awkward, but despite that, Addison’s presence is not unwelcome. Turns out Everly kind of likes having her sister there, and not only for her excellent buffering abilities .

After the last guest leaves, and while the hired staff begin their breakdown routines, Addison offers to help clean up. Everly isn’t sure how much more socializing she can take, but this isn’t an opportunity she can afford to pass up, so she agrees.

Frankie pops their head out from the kitchen and gestures with their arms and hands–what Everly assumes to be them asking if Everly wants them to stay or go. She nods her head for them to take off, giving a look that says she’ll fill them in later. Frankie gives a thumbs up, then crosses their fingers with a raised eyebrow before ducking out through the garage with Addison none the wiser.

As Addison sweeps and Everly collects scattered bits of trash, they dance around the topics she is sure they both really want to talk about, but are too afraid to broach.

“How is California and the beach house?” Everly asks her sister, while her mind screams about how weird this is.

“It’s great, I did some redecorating there as well. It doesn’t look nearly as sophisticated and gorgeous as this place does though!”

“What does it look like? I’m sure you did a great job!”

The conversation is stilted, a bit too enthusiastic for this reunion, but they manage. Addison describes some of her favorite local beach spots, where she likes to eat, shows Everly a couple pictures of the beach house she’s taken over the years and describes what has changed in the area since they last visited as a family. The conversation turns back to Stone Ride, drawing into the present again.

“The hotel looks so chic now, too,” Addison says. “I hardly recognized the inside when I checked in earlier.”

“Thanks, yeah it’s been a lot of work updating it over the years. All the interior rooms were remodeled and I added the indoor/outdoor venue space.” Everly bites her lip before continuing, not wanting to brag, but proud to share her accomplishments all the same. “The venue is consistently booked out nearly two years in advance.”

Addison’s eyes widen. “Wow, that’s incredible, Ev.”

A small ember of pride glows in Everly’s chest, warm and tentative in its arrival.

“Do you want to unwind with one last drink before you head back to the Sioria?”

Addison’s shoulders relax and she offers a smaller, more tired smile than the ones she graced everyone with during the party. Everly wonders if her sister was faking it the whole time too. Maybe she doesn’t fit in with them as perfectly as she made it seem.

Addison takes a seat at the kitchen bar, and Everly leans back against the counter across the island from her.

“Thank you for hosting,” Addison says.

Everly’s eyebrows shoot up. She’s unsure how to respond for a moment. She always hosts, because that’s what everyone has always told her she should do.

“It’s what mom and dad would have wanted,” she replies.

“Would they?” Addison says, then shrugs. “Maybe.”

Everly isn’t sure what Addison means by that, but she doesn’t have the mental fortitude to ask after the day she’s had.

“Well, anyways, it’s over and I have a year to rest before the next one.” Everly is just saying her thoughts out loud at this point, which might not be the best for carrying a conversation, but again, she simply doesn’t have the energy to care.

Addison looks like she’s about to say something before stopping herself, snapping her mouth closed. She shrugs one shoulder this time, and looks back down at her drink.

“Did you have fun? It seems like it was a huge success, and that was quite the event to pull off on your own,” Addison says, like it’s an accomplishment Everly should feel proud of.

Everly doesn’t feel proud, though. She doesn’t feel any satisfaction or fulfillment at hosting such an extravagant event. If anything, she feels emptied out, drained but also relieved that it’s done.

“I guess, yeah. I’m ready to sleep for days now that it’s over.”

She doesn’t think her true thoughts on the matter need to be shared, except maybe with Carrie later .

Her sister drops the subject, turning the conversation to her stay for the next few days. She has some plans to meet up with old high school friends in the area, and mentions that it would be nice to see Everly again too. Everly’s insides warm, a foreign sense filling some empty space inside her. She was hoping for the same, but didn’t know if Addison would want to see any more of her.