Juliette was caught off-guard by how quickly Friday afternoon had arrived. She dreaded its approach, wishing it would never materialize.
"You're behaving as though I'm leaving for good," Juliette muttered, her annoyance evident as the entire family gathered outside to bid her farewell. "It's only for the weekend."
"I summoned extra support just to be safe," Mr. Grier said, managing to tease her gently. "Bonus fortuna, mea pertinax filiae," he added playfully.
Ella's lips curved in a wry smile; despite their father's use of Latin, it did nothing to alleviate moments like these. Juliette was visibly unimpressed and hurled her bag into the passenger seat of the blue pickup truck with a forceful motion. Nolan Moorehouse, being a fan of Hunter too, had kindly lent his truck to Juliette for her getaway.
Ella found Juliette's aversion to a relationship with Hunter puzzling. Having harbored a crush on him through most of her childhood herself, Ella, now eleven and too mature for such childish infatuations, saw no excuse for her elder sister's resistance.
"If everyone wasn't overreacting about it, maybe I'd actually look forward to going," Juliette remarked pointedly.
"We just miss Hunter," Rachelle said earnestly. "You drove him away. We adore him even if you don't."
Celine interrupted with a discreet cough into her fist and muttered, "Taylor."
Rachelle's retort was cut short, leaving her without words.
With an elbow nudge and a triumphant look, Juliette couldn't resist teasing, "Ha."
Rachelle brushed Juliette's arm aside and crossed her arms with a guarded demeanor. Meanwhile, Ella observed silently from the sidelines; she preferred staying quiet and watchful amidst the sibling rivalry. Rachelle's glance towards the Moorehouse residence did not escape Ella's notice – she knew Rachelle was denying her own feelings of missing Taylor.
Juliette stalled at the truck door as if reconsidering her departure last minute. Mr. Grier approached and embraced her briefly before planting a kiss on top of her head. "Promise me you'll enjoy yourself just a little bit when you return on Sunday," he coaxed gently.
Rolling her eyes in response, Juliet said dryly, "I'll try."
"Just don't have too much fun," Mr. Grier cautioned half-jokingly. "Remember, no matter what happens with Hunter, you'll always be my little girl."
"Enough already," cringed Juliette while flailing her arms as though to dispel the unwanted image from their minds. She quickly climbed into the truck and slammed the door behind her—the vehicle sped off with tires screeching against the pavement in her hastened departure. The family lingered in their spots until she vanished around the corner—finally convinced that she'd embarked on her journey.
After a lengthy silence post-departure, Celine wagered humorously, "20 bucks says she returns married."
"I suppose I wouldn't be completely upset by it," Mr. Grier chuckled in agreement.
"Daddy!" exclaimed Rachelle in mock horror at his jesting words. "I'd be outraged!"
"Celine, Juliette wouldn't entrust her wedding plans to you anyhow," Celine was reminded by a matter-of-fact statement from Rachelle. "But remember, you've still got me and Ella on your team."
Rachelle declared with a hint of pride, "Before I get into planning either of yours, I plan to orchestrate my own wedding, just so we're clear."
"I'm far too young to even consider marriage," Ella chimed in cheerfully.
Patting Ella on the head affectionately, Mr. Grier asserted, "I'm glad you see it that way, Ella. All of you are in fact too young for marriage, Juliette included," he directed the latter part to Celine with a meaningful glance. The jest had overextended its welcome, stirring a slight unease in him.
"But you just—" Celine began to object but found herself talking to her father's retreating back as he ambled away, his laughter trailing behind him toward the house.
"I'm suddenly in the mood for cookies," blurted out Rachelle whimsically. "Come on, Ella, let's bake some together."
Celine interjected with a playful note of indignation in her voice, "Hey! Do I get no invite?"
"Your baking skills leave much to be desired, Celine."
Undeterred by the comment, Celine pressed on hopefully. "And that means?"
"Would you like to join us?" Rachelle extended an olive branch gently.
Celine responded with feigned disinterest yet a twinkle in her eye. "Not particularly. But it's the thought that counts."
With a slight shake of her head and an amused smile, Rachelle retreated back towards the house following their dad up the driveway. Flourishing with excitement at the prospect of baking alongside Rachelle, Ella barely kept her spirals on the ground.
"It's alright," shouted Celine as they moved away. "It seems I'm the sibling who fades into oblivion; however, I've made peace with this fate. My anguish fuels my creative writing prowess."
"Your presence is larger than life itself," retorted Rachelle without missing a beat. "Forgetting you isn't an option."
"That was uncalled for and below the belt," replied Celine playfully.
Ella couldn't suppress her laughter – she was well aware that Celine wasn't truly upset. She equally sensed that she held a dear place in Rachelle's heart above their other siblings – a silent acknowledgement of their unique connection that warmed her heart.
In rhythmic collaboration, Rachelle assembled all necessary ingredients for their confectionery project while Ella set about retrieving bowls and utensils from their nooks. Amidst this bustling symphony, Celine didn't want to be shrouded by exclusion; she hauled her backpack into the kitchen and with great theatrics hoisted it onto the table – an invasion by schoolwork ensued as her math textbook made its appearance alongside pens and scrunched papers cascading under her chair.
"Ella warned laughingly", "Juliette will have your head for this chaos."
"I'll tidy everything up by Sunday," defended Celine instantly.
The skeptical look from Ella prompted a revised promise: "I meant I will clean it on Sunday," corrected Celine with resignation etched into her words.
Ella was growing increasingly perturbed by Celine's untidy habits, an annoyance that the rest of the family had endured for years. It seemed Ella had finally reached the age where orderliness mattered to her. Her older sister did clean up eventually, but only after relentless prodding from every other member of the Grier household. Even their seven-year-old brother Michael kept his room tidier than the chaos of Celine's side of the room she shared with Juliette, if only just barely.
While Ella was incorporating her flour mixture into the concoction of sugar, eggs, and other ingredients that Rachelle had prepared, she found it challenging not to sprinkle flour across the countertop. Observing this struggle, Rachelle kindly stepped in to stir and prevent any further disorder.
"Perhaps I should resurrect Detective Moony," pondered Celine.
"It's time for math," Rachelle gently chided.
"But I am not a mathematician," Celine retorted with a frown. "I am a scribe, an artist — I shouldn't have to bother with these frivolous digits."
"Yet those frivolous digits are prized by colleges," Rachelle countered.
Celine conceded with a reluctant "Touché." She sighed deeply, a gesture of her melodramatic distress, and opened her textbook to tackle the first math problem with dramatic flair. "Alas, poor me."