Drama King by Penny Reid

Author:Penny Reid [Reid, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cipher-Naught

ACT 3: PERSONAL INCENTIVE

CHAPTER 17

*BATHSHEBA*

“You cannot teach a crab to walk straight.”

ARISTOPHANES

~December~

“When do you go back to work again?”

“Uh, January ninth. Why?” I turned down the Christmas classics playlist I had blasting from my cell phone and lifted my head from where I knelt in my sister’s pantry cleaning the baseboards. I’d already cleaned out the pantry, scrubbed down the shelves and walls, reorganized everything with new, better stacking containers I found at an Austin Goodwill, added labels to the shelves, and washed the floor. But I’d noticed this morning that the baseboards were a little dusty.

Gabi frowned at the cloth I held in my hand. “Do you plan to spend all or most of Christmas Eve cleaning?”

I opened my mouth to respond, then realized—unless I lied—nothing I said would be an answer she wanted to hear.

She released a beleaguered breath. “Beth. Come to Jamaica with us. I’m sure we can find a last-minute ticket.”

“What? No! Are you kidding? I have a Christmas tree at Dad’s place, three gigantic tins of cookies from all our baking, and I made pot pie from the turkey you roasted over the weekend. We already celebrated Christmas all together before Dad and Matías left. I’m good.”

“Beth—”

“Will Jamaica have a Christmas tree and pot pie? And where will you even go to mass? Does the resort have a Catholic church?”

“Yes. There is one near the resort. You are being ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous, and even if I wanted to go—which I don’t—I don’t have the money for a flight anywhere, you know this.” I returned my attention to the slightly dusty baseboard, wishing Gabi weren’t so tidy. Would it kill her to be more of a slob? “Why is it ridiculous for me to want to do something nice for my sister?”

“My linen closet looks like something out of a magazine. I’ve never had an inventory system for my cleaning supplies before. You’ve ironed all my shirts, including my T-shirts, and my sheets! Who irons sheets? That’s not being nice, that’s keeping busy for the sake of keeping busy. And don’t you dare go back to Dad’s apartment and take a toothbrush to his bathtub again. Come with us. I’ll cover the cost. There are other hotels on the island. You could—”

I stood, leaving the moderately dusty cloth on the floor and faced my sister. “I don’t want to go to Jamaica. You and Wes need this break. I’ve already crashed your Thanksgiving with his family and all your Christmas traditions. He’s desperate for some alone time with you. Go to Jamaica with your handsome husband.”

She stared at me like I was a problem. “Then see if you can get a ticket to Peru. Join Dad and Matías on their trip. I’ll give you the money, no problem. It’ll be a Christmas present.”

Our brother, Matías, would be graduating from college in the spring. He and my dad had been planning this trip to Peru since Matías’s freshman year, and I knew how excited they were for their guys-only hiking vacation.

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