Chapter 77
**Sara**
The cab pulled up to my parents' house, and I felt a wave of familiarity wash over me. Home sweet home, I thought, fishing out my wallet to pay the driver.
"Keep the change," I said, handing over a few bills. The cabbie nodded his thanks, and I hopped out, grabbing my overnight bag from the trunk.
I grinned as I approached the front door. No matter how old I got, this place always felt like a warm hug. I didn't knock; I just let myself in with my key.
"Hello? Anyone home?" I called out, dropping my bag by the door.
"In here!" came a voice from the living room.
I rounded the corner to find my older brother, Charles, sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to some action movie on TV. He didn't even look up as I walked in.
"Charles, when did you get here?" I asked, dropping onto the armchair across from him.
"This morning," Charles mumbled, eyes still glued to the TV. A car exploded on screen, and he let out a low whistle. "Man, that's some good CGI."
I rolled my eyes. Typical Charles. "And where are Mom and Dad?"
He finally tore his gaze from the TV, looking at me like I'd just asked the dumbest question in the world. "They went out for groceries. Apparently, we're having a feast tonight."
"Oh, joy," I muttered, sinking deeper into the armchair. "I hope Dad doesn't try to barbecue again. Last time, he nearly set the deck on fire."
"Yeah, that was hilarious. By the way, sis, what's the deal with you? You've been MIA lately. No texts, no calls. You studying for the cure for cancer or something?"
I felt a pang of guilt. I had been neglecting my family, but not for the reasons they thought. "Oh, you know, MBA stuff. It's been pretty intense lately. Lots of group projects and case studies."
"Uh-huh," he said, eyeing me suspiciously. "You sure it's not because you're too busy canoodling with some hot shot?"
"No, definitely not. Just drowning in textbooks and PowerPoint presentations."
"Boring," Charles declared, turning back to his movie.
"Hey, what about you?" I shot back, eager to change the subject. "You're not exactly blowing up my phone either, Mr. Busy-With-His-Job."
He shrugged. "Yeah, well, work's been crazy. We're launching a new product line, and it's all hands on deck."
"Sounds thrilling," I deadpanned.
"It is, actually," he said, missing my sarcasm. "But seriously, Sara, you sure there's no one special in your life? You seem... different."
I froze for a moment, my mind flashing to Tom. His smile, his touch, the way he looked at me... No, Sara, focus! "Nope, no one special," I lied, hoping my face wasn't as red as it felt. "What about you and Melissa? When are you two lovebirds finally tying the knot?"
His face lit up at the mention of his girlfriend. "Actually, I've been thinking about popping the question. Maybe this year, if I can get my act together."
"Wow, really?" I leaned forward, genuinely excited for my brother. "It's about time! You two have been dating since... what, the Stone Age?"
Charles threw a pillow at me, which I dodged easily. "Very funny, smartass. We've only been together for five years."
"Only?" I laughed. "Charles, some species of mayflies have longer lifespans than your dating history."
"Oh, shut up," he grumbled, but I saw a smile tugging at his lips. "At least I have a dating history. When did you last go on a date, little sister?"
I felt my cheeks flush again, thinking of my recent and steamy encounters with Tom. "I've been on dates," I said defensively.
"Uh-huh," Charles said, clearly not buying it. "Was this before or after the invention of the wheel?"
I grabbed the pillow he'd thrown at me and lobbed it back at him, hitting him square in the face. "You're such a jerk."
He laughed. "Love you too, sis."
Just then, we heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.
"Looks like Mom and Dad are back," he said, muting the TV. "Want to help bring in the groceries?"
I groaned dramatically. "Do I have to?"
"Come on, lazy bones," he said, hauling himself off the couch.
I groaned but followed Charles out to the driveway. Mom and Dad were pulling bags out of the trunk, their arms loaded with groceries.
"Sara!" Mom exclaimed, nearly dropping a bag of apples in her excitement. "Oh, honey, it's so good to see you!"
I rushed forward to grab the wobbling bag. "Hi, Mom. Need a hand?"
Dad appeared from behind the car, his arms full of paper bags. "There's my girl! How's the MBA treating you?"
"It's... intense," I said, sidestepping the truth. I wasn't about to tell them about my extracurricular activities with Professor Tom.
Charles snorted. "Yeah, so intense she can't even pick up her phone."
I shot him a death glare. "Says the guy who communicates exclusively in grunts and emojis."
Mom laughed, handing me another bag. "Oh, you two. Some things never change."
We made our way into the house, depositing the groceries on the kitchen counter. Dad immediately started unpacking, pulling out an alarming number of steaks.
"Uh, Dad?" I asked, eyeing the meat mountain. "Are we feeding an army?"
He grinned, proudly patting his new grill apron. It read 'Kiss the Cook' in gaudy red letters. "Nope, just us! I've been watching these great barbecue tutorials online. Tonight, we feast like kings!"
I exchanged a worried glance with Charles. The last time Dad got inspired by cooking videos, we ended up ordering pizza after he cremated the chicken.
"That's great, honey," Mom said, not quite masking her concern. "But maybe we should have a backup plan? Just in case?"
Dad's face fell. "You don't think I can do it?"
"No, no!" Mom backpedaled quickly. "It's just... well, remember the Great Meatloaf Disaster of '09?"
I laughed. "Or the Spaghetti Incident of 2015?"
"Hey, that wasn't my fault!" Dad protested. "How was I supposed to know you can't cook pasta for two hours?"
Charles said, "Or what about when you tried to make flambe and nearly set the kitchen on fire?"
Dad's mustache twitched in indignation. "That was a controlled burn!"
We all burst out laughing, and Dad joined in after a moment. Being home surrounded by my family's chaos and love felt good.
"Alright, alright," Dad said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "I promise not to burn down the house. But I'm still cooking!"
Mom patted his arm affectionately. "Of course, dear. We'll be right here... with the fire extinguisher."
As Dad headed out to prep the grill, Mom turned to me. "So, Sara, how are things really going? You've been so busy lately."
"Oh, you know, just lots of studying and group projects. Nothing exciting."
Charles coughed something suspiciously like "liar," but I ignored him.
Mom's eyes narrowed slightly. "Mmhmm. And no special someone in your life?"
"What? No! I mean, who has time to date with all these studies?"
"I don't know," Charles said with a mischievous look. "You seemed pretty flustered earlier when I asked about it."
I shot him a look that could curdle milk. "I was not flustered. I was... annoyed. By you. As usual."
Mom looked between us, clearly sensing there was more to the story. "Well, if there is someone, you know you can tell us, right?"
"Of course, Mom," I said, plastering my best innocent smile. "But there's really nothing to tell."
Mom's eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head. I held my breath, praying she wouldn't push further. Finally, she sighed and nodded.
"Alright, sweetie. But remember, we're always here if you need to talk."
I let out a silent sigh of relief. Crisis averted.
"Now," Mom continued, clapping her hands, "who wants to help with the cooking?"
Charles suddenly became very interested in his phone. "Oh, would you look at that? I've got an urgent... uh... work email to answer."
I rolled my eyes. "Subtle, Charles. Real subtle."
Mom turned to me with hopeful eyes. "Sara?"
I glanced longingly at the living room, where the TV was still playing Charles's action movie. Then I looked back at Mom's pleading face and felt my resolve crumble.
"Fine," I groaned. "But I'm not peeling potatoes. I always end up peeling half my fingers along with them."
Mom beamed. "Deal! You can chop the vegetables for the salad."
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