Remember When 2: The Sequel

“Layla! Hi, sweetheart.”


I kissed him as Sylvia put her drink down. “Well, hello there, Miss Layla,” she said, holding her hands out to me.

I took them in mine and gave her a kiss, then Dad stole an extra squeeze around my shoulders, asking, “How’s my Layla-Loo?”

“Stellar, Dad,” I answered, before taking note of his girlfriend’s toes. “Sylvia! You did your nails! Did you go to Rita’s?”

She peeked down and assessed her feet. “I did! I finally used that gift card you gave me.”

“Well, they look great.”

“Thank you.”

Just then, I felt two tree trunks wrap around my middle from behind, lifting me off the floor.

“Who brought the brat?” my cousin Stephen yelled into my ear as I squirmed to get out of his iron grasp.

“Stephen! Put me down! No, really, come on. I’m wearing a dress!”

He laughed, lowering me back to my feet as he teased, “But you’re such a little bitty thing.”

Stephen was the oldest one of the four, huge, hulking monsters I otherwise knew as my cousins. Jack was the youngest, and there was still Harrison and Sean in between, both of whom were closing in for greetings of their own, probably involving some sort of physical torture to my person. They were all crazy—all boy—each and every one of them. And people wonder why I was such a tomboy growing up.

I gave the three maniacs a kiss hello as the prospective groom spotted me and headed across the room as well. Aside from being a contractor, Jack had always been into art and music. The interest in the latter had prompted a short burst of fame back in the mid-nineties with a few songs that actually got some play on the radio. He’d since traded in his guitar for a hammer and was presently the self-proprietor of his own construction company. I chatted with everyone for a few minutes before excusing myself to let Jack lead me over to his fiancée.

“How’s my car?” he asked, giving me a wicked, sarcastic smirk.

“Umm, that would be my car, and it’s currently parked outside this very building.”

When I was away at school, I let Jack have the Mustang. The deal was that I’d take back possession after graduation, in exchange for him doing a bit of work on the old junker. The situation was, though, that he’d spent those four years completely restoring the thing, sinking his own money into it in order to do so. I’d watched the progress over the years and couldn’t quite believe the shiny red awesomeness he’d managed to turn my old baby into. I half-expected it to start talking to me, like KIT from Knight Rider. There was no way I could reclaim the car after all his hard work, and since I lived in the city anyway, we just kind of decided to share it. But it did stay parked in my father’s garage. The thing was a restored classic, and we didn’t want to take the chance of any undue elemental exposure by letting it sit in Jack and Livia’s driveway. His man-card would’ve been revoked for such a crime.

Jack’s fiancée and I had gone to high school together, but I didn’t really know her back then. She was a year older than me and I was inevitably viewed as chopped liver like all the other underclassmen. But I’d gotten to know her really well in the five years since she’d been dating my cousin. She was a photographer, and I had recently hooked her up with a freelance gig at Now!

Oh, and she was actually very, very cool.

She threw an arm around me, drawing me into her group of bridesmaids, handing me her glass of red wine in the process, never once breaking conversation with her entourage. I knew them all from school, too, but only saw them occasionally, normally at events like this.

I was standing with Liv and her sister Victoria, Isla St. Parque, Samantha Baker… and Tess Valletti. Tess, you may remember, dated Trip back in the day. I’d been in her company sporadically and uneventfully over the years, but that night, I felt the old, irrational pang of jealousy hit. I guessed it was because I had just seen him so recently. I knew I was being ridiculous. Tess was happily married, I was engaged, and Trip wasn’t even in the picture.

But I guess old habits die hard.

Cooper’s sister Shana was there, but standing off in a corner arguing with her latest boyfriend. She was a total bitch and I could never understand how Coop managed to be such a normal person. His mother was nuts, but his father was pretty awesome. Maybe the crazy genes only ran along the female side. I couldn’t quite figure out how Shana and Livi ever wound up to be friends.

I turned my attention back to the group in time to hear Liv say, “Hey, Layla. Did Jack tell you that Vix got knocked up?”

Oh my gosh. Another baby?

I congratulated Victoria with a big hug. I hardly knew her, but it was the sort of news that brought about that kind of reaction.

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