Signed, Sealed, Delivered: A brother’s best friend / anonymous penpal romance (Wells Family)
Signed, Sealed, Delivered: Chapter 8

Age 18:

To: shinyobjects@gmail.com

From: lilypad10@gmail.com

Did you know that as of next month, we will have been friends for FIVE YEARS??

What are you going to get me for our anniversary? I expect either diamonds or a signed Nickelback vinyl. Your pick.

In all seriousness, we should celebrate! Five years is a big chunk of my life, tbh.

Let’s agree to watch Finding Nemo at the same time tonight, and we can send each other our live reactions.

It’ll be super fun.

Happy almost anniversary,

Lil

***

Unknown number: Hey, wtf is up with this show??

Unknown number: Seriously, how is it possible to put crack into a TV show?

Unknown number: I liked this john guy in the beginning. What’s wrong with him?

Unknown number: Never mind. He’s a douche.

Unknown number: This real estate investor is cool. I guess your best choice is to pick the lesser of all evils

Unknown number: Okay, Derek for the win. I’m sticking with him till the end.

Unknown number: Also, this is Nathan. Layla sent me your number because I didn’t want to wake you up to talk about this.

Unknown number: It’s 2 am, and I have to get up at 7, but I’m almost caught up. One more episode!

Unknown number: I finished. Please don’t take away my man card.

“You’re telling me that Nathan stayed up all night watching The Bachelorette?”

Layla and Marigold passed my phone back and forth, reading the string of random texts I’d woken up to.

“I guess so.” I laughed and took my phone from Marigold. “I thought he’d hate it. He came in so judgy when he saw what I was watching, but now I wouldn’t be surprised if he ordered a shirt with Derek’s face on it.”

“That man is something else. Did I tell you about the time he argued with me over who was best dressed at the Met Gala? And Luke once posted a Snapchat story of Nathan dancing on a table to the Scissor Sisters. He was wearing a cowboy hat, and he had a lightsaber in one hand and a beer in the other.”

I snorted a laugh. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Marigold piped in. “Is he a good roommate so far?”

I hadn’t had much experience with roommates, so I wasn’t an expert on the subject, but he hadn’t left trails of popcorn through the house or questionable adult things on the bathroom vanity. At least not yet.

“I think so? He works all the time, so I don’t see him much, but we get along.”

I intentionally left out the part where he played the piano for me. For some reason, that felt a little too intimate to share.

Layla smiled. “I figured he would be. Luke never had any issues with him as a roommate. Speaking of, he looks busy. I better help him.” With that, she pranced away.

Luke was manning the bar alone tonight, so he could use help, but I was tempted to warn the people waiting for their drinks that if Layla made it, it was probably better off being flushed down a toilet. Though watching their reactions to fluoride-flavored cocktails could be fun too. In the end, the latter side won, and I stayed put.

Luke gave Layla a tight smile and nodded, inviting her behind the bar top to help. The man would probably take a thousand bad reviews on Yelp if it meant making her smile.

I felt a little guilty for not jumping in right then. Taking aesthetic shots of drinks being poured, customers being served, and of the interior design of the place did not feel like work. My gig here was a blast. I’d been working on filming short videos and matching them up to trending audio and posting them on all social media platforms. Yesterday, I made one of Luke tossing a bottle into the air and pouring it in slow-mo. It had almost one hundred thousand views already. I tried to ignore the “hot bartender” comments in reference to my brother, but Layla found them hilarious. Pimping my brother out for marketing was a little icky, but who was I to deny the people what they wanted?

“Could you do me a favor?” Marigold interrupted my thoughts.

I turned back to her. “Whatcha need?”

“Could you watch the boys tonight? Around eight or so?”

Dropping my elbow to the table, I rested my chin in my hand. “Liam can’t watch them?”

Marigold’s eyes practically rolled to the floor at the mention of my brother. “It’s technically my night, and I don’t want to ask him to watch them again. Last time he kept them on my night, he teased me for weeks and said he would send me a bill.”

I snorted. Yeah, that sounded like Liam. He’d never found a button he didn’t love to push. Especially when it came to Marigold.

“I’d love to have them. What are you doing tonight?” I scooted to the edge of the booth and grinned. “Ooh, does someone have a date?”

As far as I knew, Marigold hadn’t gone out since she and Liam split up. Though it probably wasn’t the kind of thing she’d want to tell her ex-husband’s sister. Not to mention, she knew me well enough to know I’d research her dates so thoroughly I’d know their favorite Chick-Fil-A dipping sauce by the time I was done.

She snorted a laugh. “I wish. More like a mandatory girls’ night with the ladies from work. Apparently, my attendance is nonnegotiable. I believe Nicole’s exact words were ‘Tacos and tequila are the only thing you need right now.’” She rolled her eyes.

“I agree! You need some good time off. You’re always with the boys or working. You never stop to breathe and enjoy yourself.”

She gestured to the table in front of us. “I’m not working right now.”

“Taking a late lunch break doesn’t count. Go out tonight, have fun, and stay out late. The boys and I will have the best time. I’ve been missing those little boogers.”

I was already planning our itinerary: Nerf guns, pillow fights, homemade brownies. Possibly getting a little too rowdy and watching Jurassic Park.

“You really don’t mind?” She bit her lip and spun her water glass, as if asking me to babysit my nephews was like sentencing me to death.

“Not a bit. We’re gonna have the best night.”

She gave me an appreciative smile across the table.

What she didn’t realize was that, as much as I adored my nephews, I’d do anything for her. Thankful didn’t begin to describe how I felt about having Marigold in my life. For a while after the divorce, I worried we would lose her entirely, and for a moment, we did. But she slowly found her way back to us. She still came to family dinners, and she hung out with us almost as much as she had when she was still married to my brother.

At first, it was awkward. She and Liam would steal glances at one another, then trade snippy comments about parenting. But they worked it out, which meant I was able to keep my best friend. She’d been there for me time and time again, so I’d be there for her just the same. Especially if it meant watching my seven-year-old nephews for a night.

Our phones buzzed repeatedly on the table, and we shared a thin-mouthed look. Neither of us had any doubt the messages were coming from our family group chat.

Crew: Does anyone have an extra hand mixer??

Crew: Not everyone at once please.

Crew: It doesn’t have to be fancy. Calla, I know you’re broke so a cheap one will work.

Me: I don’t even own a fork, Crew.

Crew: I’m not asking for a fork, CALLA.

Liam: Buy your own kitchen appliances. You own a food truck. It’s a business expense.

Crew: Whoa, whoa, whoa, fancy finance pants.

Crew: If I had the time, I would’ve done that already. My hand mixer died, so food prep is taking way too long. And there is a new truck parked next to me. They’re taking all the business.

Adam: In the time it took you to text us, you could have been working to catch up.

Calla: I agree

Liam: Same

Marigold: Ditto

Crew: SCREW YOU GUYS.

Marigold and I laughed at the text exchange, and as I was putting my phone back on the table, she was snagging her purse from beside her. “Shoot, I gotta go. I have a client coming in a half hour. I’ll see you tonight, right?”

I nodded. “Yup, see you—Oh! Wait…” I hadn’t really thought about the logistics of tonight though. Should I check with Nathan before having the boys over? It was his apartment, after all. “I should probably ask Nathan first.”

“Really?” she asked with a head tilt.

“Yeah. This is like a part of the roommate code, right? Don’t bring seven-year-old twins into the apartment without a heads-up. It’s right up there with clean the microwave after you heat up something really stinky and always replace the trash bag when you take the trash out.”

That’s right. I was a dream roommate.

I pulled up our previously one-sided text conversation and fired off a message.

Calla: Hey, do you mind if Dallas and Miles come over for a little bit tonight?

Only a few seconds had passed before his reply came in.

Nathan: Not at all. I love those little guys. There are some Legos in my office closet from the last time Luke had them over.

The thought of Nathan saving a bucket of Legos for my nephews made my heart race. He was thoughtful like that. Always putting others first, never himself.

“He said it was fine,” I murmured, locking my phone’s screen.

Across from me, Marigold wore a devious smirk, but she didn’t respond.

“What?”

She pointed at my face as if I had a big, fat glob of chocolate on my chin—which wasn’t entirely impossible. “You’re smiling.”

I was? I guess so.

I shrugged. “He’s funny.”

She gave me a hint of a smile before sliding out of the booth and waltzing out the door.

Alone again, I picked my camera up and got to work. For the rest of the afternoon, I followed Luke and Layla around like I was a paparazzo and they were A-list celebrities. After I’d gotten more than enough footage, I worked on marketing, creating fun reels, stories, polls, and Q&As. Anything fans of Romfuzzled would want to see. One cute boomerang of Luke kissing Layla on the cheek as she poured a drink was capturing the most engagement so far.

By the time I packed up for the day, my SD card was full, and I was ready to go home and edit till the boys arrived.

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