Rewritten: 3.14.17

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BAILEY

"Ahoy thar!"

I rolled my eyes, pressing the speaker button on my phone. When Olivia finally decided to call me back, it had to be while I was trying to cook dinner. Because she was busy at one, two, three, four PM, but not five thirty. Of course. And five thirty was apparently now the magical witching hour that turned her from a flighty teenage girl into a freaking pirate. "Can you talk like a normal person, please? I don't have time for this right now."

"Aw, you're no fun." I heard something like a seagull squawking in the background, which only irritated me more. Of course she was at the beach. She had no responsibilities, nothing to do. Where else would she be?

"Olivia," I said. I opened the package of pasta sheets, giving one a distasteful once-over. My grandfather would be rolling in his grave if he saw me making lasagna with Shop Rite generic brand pasta sheets and a matching pasta sauce.

"What?" my little sister whined. "You're the one who called me. What do you want?"

Love you too, Liv. "What do you mean, what do you want? Did you or did you not just tell my son that you were taking him and Peter for the weekend?"

"Oh, is that what's got your panties all bunched up?"

Every time I talked to Olivia I remembered why I hated her so much growing up. Jesus Christ. "If that's how you want to put it, then yes."

"Well, don't worry about it, then. I'll pick them up on Saturday around . . . eh, let's say nine. I might be a little late, though. It depends."

"Um, no." I turned on the sink, filling a pot with hot water to boil. Here I was, fixing a nice hot meal for my family while Olivia sat on a random beach somewhere, no doubt surrounded by garbage can bonfires and potheads. I looked around at my kitchen and thought, my life is better, isn't it? Isn't it?

But the waves crashing in the distance still filled my heart with an unsuppressible longing. I hadn't been to the beach in months.

"Um, yes," retorted Olivia. "I mean, they're my nephews. Do you not want me to see them or something?"

"That's not it, Liv. You know that. I just don't want you making them promises without asking me first."

"Well so-ory," said Olivia as if I had just yelled at her for wearing one of my sweaters. "I'm asking you now, then."

"But what do you mean by 'treasure hunt'?"

"Oh, you know. A treasure hunt."

"Olivia, I'm serious. I need to know, for their safety. Could you be a little more specific?"

"Mommy!" came a yell from down the hall. "I'm hungry!"

"I know, Peter," I yelled back. I was beginning to feel hot with irritation. After turning on the burner, I rushed to the window and threw it open. The cool evening air washed over me, cleansing my anger. Relax, I told myself. She's just your stupid little sister.

"Seems like you're pretty busy," Olivia said.

Jesus, was she just mocking me, now? "I am."

"Well, I should leave you to it. See you on Saturday. Bye!"

"Olivia--!"

Too late.

The water began to boil. I dumped the pasta in, my hands shaking. My sons' loud footsteps reverberated through the hall as they ran to the kitchen.

"Was that Aunty Olive?" Aiden asked.

"Treasure hunt!" Peter shouted.

I should have known Aiden would tell him anyway. I sighed. Who was I to crush their dreams? "Yep."

"Yay!" Peter exclaimed, he and his brother collapsing into their own separate happy dances. "We're going to be pirates like Aunty Olive!"

I rolled my eyes. "Go back to your room. I'll call you when dinner's ready."

Peter said okay, already starting to dance back down the hall. "Mommy, isn't it cool that Aunty Olive's a pirate?" he called.

"Yeah, sure," I mumbled. I wasn't listening anymore.