24. Sister and funeral

44 5 0
                                    

– Hi, sister! – Julia called cheerfully. – Is there a bed for me?

I extricated myself from her embrace, having first hugged her warmly, and looked at her, unable to shake off the surprise. My sister was beaming and had an expression like she had just won the lottery.

– Julia? – I said, not hiding my astonishment and trying to gather my thoughts. – What are you doing here?

She hadn't mentioned she was coming. She didn't even know where I lived. Without my directions, she had no idea where to find me, and she hadn't asked for them recently.

– I went to your place, but Lu said you're rarely there anymore and gave me this address – she explained.

– How did you get in? – Vic interjected before I could say anything, and Julia looked at him as if assessing his intellectual capacity.

– Through the door, and then by the elevator – she replied slowly, as if communicating with someone of limited mental ability. – And the doorman here is a bit clueless, right? – she added casually in a normal tone. – He didn't even ask who I was or who I was visiting.

Victor frowned and sighed, irritated.

– And they were supposed to handle the situation – he muttered under his breath.

I looked at him reproachfully.

– She's my sister – I stated emphatically, wondering why he was bothered by her visit. We had a guest bedroom, so we could host visitors, even unannounced ones. Especially family members who were dear to us.

– It's not about her being here – he explained, controlling his facial expression excessively, which immediately told me he was a bit agitated – it's about anyone being able to walk in here like it's their own place. You, of course, are very welcome – he addressed my sister in a warm tone. – It's very nice to officially meet you.

Without further ado, he invited her inside, and before I could react, he seated us on the sectional in the living room and handed us each a large mug of tea.

– Did you come for your father's funeral? – he asked, as we managed to glean from my sister's cheerful chatter the purpose of her visit, since she had mostly been in London with Mom and Tommy recently. – I thought you were going to boycott the event like Paula.

– I planned to – she replied from behind a steaming mug of raspberry tea – but then I thought attending might be an interesting experience. You have a beautiful place. Your boyfriend has taste.

She looked at Victor with admiration, and he only slightly raised the corners of his mouth in a faint smile.

– Rather, the interior designer – he murmured modestly, though it was clear he was pleased with Julia's comment.

– And so modest too – my sister muttered with a mischievous smile, which meant the limit of flattering my boyfriend had been reached. – I might even grow to like you.

This remark temporarily threw him off balance, but Julia's playful wink clearly reassured him, and when she patted him good-naturedly on the shoulder before going to sleep, he was back to his usual composed self.

Two days later, early in the morning, Julia started preparing in the guest bathroom with the same care as if she were getting ready for her own wedding, not the funeral of a tyrant who had no regard for the health and happiness of his children and wife. Victor watched her with a mixture of admiration and respect, even chatting about trivial matters as if they had been best friends for years, but I had no intention of participating in this charade that the funeral was going to be. Therefore, I ostentatiously ignored all my sister's preparations for the event and boycotted Victor's support of her decision.

Butterfly's YearWhere stories live. Discover now