I can’t help but smile and nod. He remembered.

“And you, honey?” Paul asks Julia. “What are you getting?”

All eyes are now on my sister.

“I’ll take… Mmm…” Jules purses her lips. “The chicken salad without the chicken, eggs, bacon, and onions. Leave the dressing on the side, please.”

Our server raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, just writes Julia’s order on her pad.

Paul sighs—half-amused, half-exasperated—and orders a round of Bloody Marys for everyone. Julia asks for hers to be virgin.

When the server’s gone, Jules turns toward Paul with a complicit smile. “Should we tell her now?”

Paul shifts in his booth. “Maybe we should wait for our drinks.”

“Tell me what?” I ask.

My sister smiles at me. “We have some very special news to share, and we wanted to do it here.”

I don’t like how this sounds. I look at Paul for reassurance, but he only shrugs in response. At once, my palms go clammy with sweat.

“This is where we met,” Jules continues, “and if it weren’t for you, it would’ve never happened.”

Don’t I know!

“So it seemed the perfect place to tell you…” My sister pauses for effect. “Are you ready?”

No!

Can I say, no, run out of the diner, and never see them again?

I swallow, grimace, and nod.

Julia takes a deep breath and says, “We’re engaged!”

Something pulls tight in my chest, and I blab the first thing that comes into my head, “T-to each other?”

“Of course to each other, silly.” Having thus handed down my death sentence, Jules launches into a wedding planning rant. “No need to say, you’ll be my maid of honor. The main color scheme for the ceremony and reception will be cream and peach. But I’ll need your visual expertise to make sure everything is perfect.”

“I-I produce commercials,” I manage to stutter. “I don’t plan weddings.”

“Yeah, but you have an eye for setting, wardrobe, photography… You’re the ace up my sleeve. We’re still debating over two different wedding planners, but as soon as we pick one I’ll let you have their contact so we can all coordinate…”

I don’t interrupt her a second time. I let her blab on and on about all her wedding ideas while I nod and mmm-hmm every now and then whenever I feel a pause in the conversation requires it. Conversation… more like a monologue. I should be glad my input isn’t needed. There’s too much of a strong buzz inside my head for me to be able to communicate anyway. Something like the loud ambient interference of a microphone standing too close to the speakers. I’m the microphone, and Jules and Paul’s engagement is the amplifier making my brain explode and taking my heart with it.

Two

Blue Christmas

“You think I’m making a mistake?” Jules asks.

Her voice drags me out of the haze I’ve been in since my sister dropped the bombshell that she and Paul are engaged. I stare up at her, surprised to see we’re both in my office. That I’m sitting behind my desk while my sister is perched on it and is eyeing me expectantly. I don’t remember paying for lunch, or even if I said goodbye to Paul. Did I congratulate them? I hope my strict, uptight education kicked in at some point, and that I managed to be at least polite, if not overenthusiastic.