Some Kind of Perfect (Calloway Sisters #5)

by Krista Ritchie

Sullivan smacks her lips and then yawns against her mom’s palm. Daisy nuzzles her forehead against her daughter’s. It’s borderline nauseating. I don’t grow fuzzy feelings at the sight of cooing babies and maternal warmth. Infants are miniature devils. Mine included.

Yet she goes on to have 4 more kids? Make it make sense

Daisy and Ryke have been glued to Sullivan since she was born. Five months without one break. I understand every parent is different, but I’m worried about my sister.

SHE ALMOST DIED LEAVE HER BE

I remember the headlines after the first episode aired: DAISY MEADOWS TELLS HER INSPIRING AND HEARTBREAKING STORY. She talked about the Paris riot and growing up modeling. RYKE MEADOWS AND HIS LONELY PAST. He talked about hiding his familial ties to protect his father’s reputation. LILY & LOREN OPEN UP: RELATIONSHIPS & SEX ADDICTION. They discussed, briefly, how they enabled each other as teenagers and fell deeper into their addictions. CONNOR & ROSE: THE REAL TRUTH BEHIND PRINCESSES OF PHILLY. We were able to clear the air about Scott’s role during the reality show. In more detail than we ever had before.

“Moffy will never know the difference between fame and obscurity. This is his normal.” He points an accusatory finger at the tabloids. “And if we freak out by every goddamn camera, every tabloid article, then his normal will be full of anxiety and panic. Lily and I—we don’t want that for our kid. We want him to be comfortable in public and around paparazzi. We want him to embrace this life because it’s the only one he’s going to live.”

“But Connor always makes the right choices,” Lily replies softly. Fuck. “Not always,” Connor admits. Rose’s expression travels from shock to a full-on fucking grin. We’re all probably documenting this moment as a historic one: the day Connor Cobalt admits he’s not always right.

My cat nearly scratched Jane’s face, too unpredictable and aggressive. What if she scratched her eye? I won’t take that risk. I raised Sadie as a kitten, but my attachment to her is severely less than my attachment to these people in this very room.

“We had sex,” she suddenly blurts out, her cheeks ashen. “Willow Hale,” I say with a gasp, smiling wide. I high-five my computer screen. She timidly high-fives her computer screen in reply.

“What was the word?” “Are you serious?” I glower. “That’s not fucking important in all of this.” “It was ‘fuck’ wasn’t it?” He almost starts laughing. I toss a dishrag at his face. “Fuck you. And yeah, so what if it was fuck?”

He’s shaking, but he shows me his left side. The bruise across his abdomen looks faded, older. Like this has happened multiple times. I have to tilt my head towards his lips to hear his next words. “I’m the little brother. They just pick on me. It’s what older brothers do.”

“Take two steps back. I can’t think clearly when you’re this near me.” I take two steps back like she asked. “Better?” She nods more confidently. I wave to her with two hands. “Lay it on me.” With a big inhale she says, “I want us to try for another baby.”

“I bet I can give you something that’ll really turn you off.” “What?” Lo has this rare smile peeking at his lip. He rubs the back of his neck, unsure if he’s actually going to say it, but then he does, “Lily pregnant.” My mouth falls. “Is she?” Lo nods and his smile bursts. “Yeah.”

He stares at me intently and his lips inch up again. “Tu es absolument magnifique.” You’re absolutely beautiful.

“Not all things can be altered from desire, passion, and wisdom. Some things just happen. Like love and death and life. Some things just are.”

I scream, expecting to hear a baby. Nothing happens. No noises but my own and the whispers of nurses. “Is he okay?” I ask.

Dr. Amora stands. “Congratulations on your new baby boy.” Connor strokes his thumb across our son’s head, and I clasp the baby’s fingers.

Eliot. I brush a finger across the baby’s cheek, and he murmurs again. “Eliot,” I whisper. “It suits him.”

Rose isn’t showing off much of a baby bump in her blue dress, not too far along. I still can’t believe she’s pregnant again. Then I can. She’s determined to have a girl, and so she conceived right when she was able to have sex following Eliot’s birth. Six weeks and then pregnant again.

I blame having a new baby. Lily just had Luna in November.

He baked a chocolate cake. Yellow icing spells out: we fucking love you.

Loren might not have been a Calloway sister, but he’s been more of a brother to me than any other man in my life.

Love is power, and I can’t tell you why. It transcends every word I can conjure. In these catalytic moments, love surges through me like battalions made of fire and water. Made of ivory and rose. I awaken and I know. I come second. I will always put them first.

Then I set a knee on the floor and find myself sitting next to this white pillow, a ball of orange fur in the center. I rub my lips, my tabby cat curled up and lifeless beside me. I’ve met death one other time in my life, and the emotions I grapple with still warp me, confuse me—bear against me.

Yes, Rose is giving birth the same day Sadie died.

“What do you call a woman with four legs?” “I don’t know? What do you call her?” “Doggy style!” Moffy shouts. I’m dead.

“Gillow Engagement has been trending all day, did you see?” I remember reading the headlines of articles: WILLOW HALE GETS ENGAGED! CHECK OUT LOREN HALE’S NEW BROTHER-IN-LAW INSIDE!! He proposed to her in London, and even though they’d mentioned marriage to one another before, he looked so nervous at dinner.

“You think I’d let anything bad happen to your little sister?” “No,” Moffy says without a pause, “because you make all the monsters go away.” I rub at my watery gaze. Loren Hale is not the monster in his son’s eyes. He’s the hero.

“I’m not sitting down until you explain why that warrants a parent phone call.” I swear, if they punish her for this, I will create the mother of all fucking storms. “She kissed a boy,” Mrs. Morgan-Stuart repeats. My daughter’s first kiss was in kindergarten. Of course it was.

I glance over my shoulder, our three-year-old at the door with her stuffed starfish, lightly rapping the door. She stares right at us. “Ryke…” I have no clue what to do. Sulli can see his naked body up against mine like we’re two animals mating on National Geographic.

“Hey, Lily.” He takes off his sweater, balls up the soft wool, and stuffs the makeshift pillow behind my lower back while I slouch against the wall. “Whatever happens here, it doesn’t fucking change us. You’re my friend, and I love you. Alright?” Tears well, and I nod over and over. I know what this means. Ryke has to look between my legs.

Reality just smacked both of us in the face. My water broke. I’m going into labor. In this elevator. Without Lo. Without a hospital. No doctors, no pain medication, or anyone to ensure that Xander is healthy and alive at the end.

By the time the world catches up with me, I’m in the hospital, the clock strikes an hour past midnight. And a Christmas miracle cries softly in my arms.

“It worked.” I can hear Rose’s smile in her voice before I feel mine spread. She’s pregnant. “…why is there silence? I need something.” I put the speaker closer to my mouth. “Dais is crying. Thanks, Rose.”

She nods and looks up at me. “We’ll be here. In Winona, Minnesota.”

Luna stares up at Maria with beady amber eyes, half-giggling like she’s invisible to Maria. And Maria, my fifteen-year-old niece, just stands there like this is the most normal thing in the entire world.

Ryke jabs a finger towards the door. “He has no fucking reason to be upset that she’s pregnant.” And there it is. Willow is pregnant.

“Vada Lauren Abbey,” he tells me the name. “Vada for—” “My Girl,” I finish. The lead character of that 90s film is named Vada. Garrison reblogs a lot of My Girl gifs and makes them for Willow,

Rose gently sweeps her finger across the newborn’s nose. “She looks just like you, Daisy.” I rub the heel of my palm over my wet face. I tilt my head towards Rose. She tilts hers towards me. And I say, “Thank you.” Tears cascade harder. For us both. Rose tries to wipe mine with her thumb, and then she kisses my cheek. I love my sisters more than life itself, and what Rose did for me digs to the very core of love. It exists entirely and soulfully within Winona.

I wrap my arm around Rose. She may hate hugs, but she holds onto my arm this time. Her eyes fight to hold back stronger sentiments as she watches Sulli and her new sister. Rose whispers to me, “That’s me and you.”

It takes a full five minutes for Horny Rose to get the fuck out. And then I realize what just happened. I broke the six-week, no-sex rule. I broke the rule when Lily never even did.

Seven children. Seven healthy, beautiful little gremlins.

“Jane, Charlie, Beckett, Eliot, Tom, and Ben.” They radiate, and the room teems with power and vivacity. “We’d like you all to meet your new sister. Audrey Virgina Cobalt.” I have the baby in my arms to show them. Jane’s hands fly to her mouth, tears brimming. “A sister?”

My father lies on the firm mattress, sheet-white, eyes sunken. He stares hauntingly at the ceiling, his lips the same pallid color of his skin. He already looks dead.

I don’t have to ask what happened. I spoke to the doctors over the phone. At his request, they called me first. For the past couple of years, he’s been suffering from chronic liver rejection.

“I’ve always loved you, son.” I know. He never let me forget it. “It was a decent ride. The whiskey could’ve been better towards the end.” I can’t laugh at the joke. He stayed sober. My dad stayed sober for a long time. For me. For Ryke. For Willow. For himself. “Will you remember?” he asks, fear creasing his eyes for the first time. “Remember what?” “That I loved you.”

What I say next, I have to say to my father six-feet-under. Because I never would’ve said it to his fucking face. I rub my jaw. Then I go still. My pulse slows. The wind howls around me. Quietly, I say, “I loved you in the fucking end.”

“Me? I don’t fall.” “Then what happened ten minutes ago?” “I gracefully lied down.”

I don’t have to ask Hannah what the other girls did anymore. I see it. On Luna’s forehead. In permanent marker. They scrawled a word. WEIRDO

Five-year-old Tom exits the car first, his golden brown hair combed back. My muscles frost, my body solidifying like ice. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. A word is written on his forehead in black marker. WEIRDO He sets his black duffel on the ground while his older brother jumps out of the car. “Thanks for driving us, Mom!” Six-year-old Eliot calls out and spins around, the same word on his forehead. My softened eyes flit to Rose. She shakes her head, but she’s grinning. “Not my idea. They overheard Connor and me. We were talking about it, and then I caught them in the bathroom like this.”

Luna is laughing. “Why’d you go and do that?” She points at Tom’s forehead. Tom sticks his hands in his coat pockets. “Because if they’re gonna call you a weirdo, then that means we’re weirdos.” “Definitely,” Eliot agrees.

Daisy smiles wide, her blonde hair tangled and still wet after jumping in the lake. Water collects at her bare feet. My littlest sister turned thirty in February, but Lily still looks five years younger.