She got a huge smile, and it was easy to see where her kids had gotten their good looks. “Great,” she said approvingly. “I’ll tell my brother to park.” She whipped out her phone, typed, grabbed a brush, and then also applied lip gloss, all with one hand. She looked at her phone again and announced, “He’s on the way.”
Ava and I went across the street, walking slowly since that was the way I now moved. She chatted as we waited for the light to change and she didn’t seem impatient about our pace, but she was used to walking with small children so that made sense. Also, she seemed nice—bossy, but nice, and I thought that it wasstrange how she’d ended up with a loser brother, the basement-dweller.
Optimism.
We got three drinks (she insisted on paying for mine) and we sat at a table near the door. I could see out of the window and I could watch everyone coming in, and I knew the moment I spotted a guy who was obviously Ava’s brother. She was tall and so was he, well above average. He had the same hair, which wasn’t the black-coffee shade that I had been picturing on him but more of a golden-brown. And his eyes were the same as hers, very dark and not the amber color that other men had. Also like his sister, he was attractive; they were both people whom strangers would admire, people who had gotten lucky in the genetic lottery for looks.
But he might have been shorted in other ways, like in terms of personality. He entered the coffee shop with a large frown on his face that was directed at her but also turned on me, the blameless stranger.
“Ava,” he stated sharply.
“I already got you a coffee,” she said, pointing at the paper cup. She had seemed to know exactly what he liked and had asked for it without hesitation. “Emerson, this is my brother Levi. Levi Lassiter.”
I carefully pushed myself to stand, since that was the polite thing. It was also the painful thing, which I watched him notice. He stopped frowning, either because he felt bad about my condition or because he realized that it was rude. Maybe therewere plenty of reasons for people not to like me, but he didn’t know them yet. “I’m Emerson Mack,” I introduced myself.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, and managed a tight smile that reminded me of the harassed receptionist at the orthopedic surgeon’s office. We shook hands and I got the impression of scratchy calluses before he quickly let go. Clearly, he didn’t want to be here.
But his older sister seemed very pleased. She turned her happy expression from him to me as I sat back down. “Emerson, tell us about yourself. What are your strengths and weaknesses?”
“Is this like a job interview?” I asked, puzzled.
Her brother snorted and her smile faltered. “Sorry, was that awkward?” she asked. “What’s a better get-to-know-you question?”
“Well, the advice for dating apps is to be quirky. You want to be memorable and sound intriguing,” I said. “Like, ‘What’s your third favorite movie? Which pair of shoes is your favorite and why?’”
“What are the answers to those questions supposed to show?” the guy asked.
“If I said, ‘My favorite shoes are my hiking boots,’ then you’d know that I’m an outdoorsy person. If I said, ‘I don’t have a favorite movie because I only read books,’ you’d know that I’m insufferable and also a liar.”
He snorted again and his sister laughed.
“My name is Emerson Mack, I’m twenty-six years old, I’m from up north originally but I moved down here for college,” I told them. “I’m a self-employed bookkeeper and I have a cat named Coral, named after a character the movieDead Reckoning.”
They looked blank.
“It’s old. Coral was a beautiful woman who was also a murderer,” I explained. “My cat is also beautiful and morally questionable. That’s all there is about me.”
Silence descended while they continued to stare, like they were waiting.
So I tried to think of more, and then continued. “I enjoy watching other old movies besidesDead Reckoning. I also watch downhill skiing and I love to ski myself.” Not that I had lately, and not that I would be able to in the future. “That’s really everything.”
Ava smiled hugely. “How crazy. Levi also loves to ski!” she said. “Wow! You two have so much in common.”
“So far, one thing. And how many other people in the United States are also recreational skiers? Maybe you should introduce me to the rest of them,” her brother suggested, and she glared at him briefly.
“Now you should tell Emerson something about yourself,” she ordered, her voice now taut.
“I collect kunais and other ninja-related tools and weaponry. I also enjoy dressing up as various forms of fungi.” He lookeddown at his jeans. “Not today, unfortunately. I’m at my best when I cosplay as a morel but I’m also great as yeast.”
“Levi!” his sister admonished.
This all explained a lot about his lack of a job, and I also felt like I was on the side of his ex-girlfriend.
“I haven’t been to the gym in a while and my throat muscles have gone to crap. Now I’m only able to drink liquids with the help of gravity, like a chicken,” he continued, but Ava stepped in.
“None of this is true,” she told me. “He’s trying to be funny but he has a problem with humor. Like not possessing it,” she said acidly as she stared at him.
“I think I’m pretty funny,” he said. “Remember when I told your future husband that you had worked as a can-can dancer in Paris?”
