His sister turned to him. “You can’t make me go on my own again.”
Sunday Brunch was a monthly Gilmore family tradition and obligation after some family therapist recommended it almost a decade ago.
The hectic months leading up to Spotlight’s grand opening had given him an excuse to miss the gatherings. He could probably get away with skipping another one, but he felt bad he’d left his sister to deal with their parents alone.
Closing his eyes, he said, “I’ll be there.”
“Great,” she said, returning to mirror cleaning. “Oh, and if you’re bringing whoever you’re dating this month, please make sure she’s not like the last one.”
“I told you I didn’t know Kennedy was going to do all that,” Duncan said, cringing at the memory of the woman’s conspiracy theory tirade. “But I’m also not seeing anyone at the moment.”
Gwen squinted. “Really?”
“Yeah. This,” he gestured around him, “has been taking up my time for months.”
“The women of the city will understand.”
Duncan made a mocking laugh.
“But on a serious note”, Gwen looked around, “time well spent. And Mom and Dad can’t stop bragging.”
“I’m sure you’ll get some award soon and oust me as their favorite child.”
“Oh, I know,” she said. “I’m throwing you a bone in the meantime.”
ChapterFour
During the lasthour of the workday, Retta looked up from her conversation with Cheyenne to see Irene’s mother, Wendy, enter the bakeshop. It was such an unexpected appearance that Retta stopped talking mid-sentence.
Her aunt looked like she was fresh out of the salon chair with her perfectly pressed bob that swished from side to side as she approached the front counter.
“Wow, I haven’t been here since your grand opening,” Aunt Wendy said, looking around the store.
They made eye contact, and it was as if they simultaneously remembered how at that time Retta was still dating Chris. He’d stood by her side as she made a toast to business longevity. Now he was going to be her son-in-law.
Retta neatly placed her hands on the counter in front of her. “A lot of trial and error, but I like it now.”
“It’s beautiful,” her aunt replied quickly.
“Are you looking for something specific today?” Retta asked.
“Oh, right,” the older woman said, gently smacking her temple. “Chris and Irene are having an engagement party of sorts that’ll also work as her bridal shower, and I wanted to know if I can order one of those macaron towers you sell.”
Cheyenne, like the impassioned intern she was, appeared with an order form on an iPad. Luckily, this type of order had a quick turnaround, so they usually could fulfill even the most last-minute requests.
Retta’s aunt filled out the form but momentarily looked up to ask, “Are you coming to the party?”
Seeing as Retta still didn’t have a suitable date, her impulse for the last week had been to text her cousin and cancel her RSVP to the wedding. But whenever that urge surfaced, she remembered the humiliation that surrounded her breakup. She couldn’t yield.
Internally shaking herself out of her head, Retta looked at her Aunt Wendy and said, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”
The older woman smiled before ducking her head to finish her request. “I also saw you’d RSVPed a plus one to the wedding.”
Of course this was the time her aunt wanted to go over this particular detail.
“I did.”
“Is it a special someone?” her aunt asked, and to perhaps eliminate any confusion with what she might mean by “special someone,” she accompanied her question with a wink.
