The One You Call | horan au

twenty-five

Phoebe's P.O.V.

-

I don't want to be a liar, so the next day I actually end up making the hour and a half drive to see my parents.

I love my family to pieces but as I've gotten older I've learned to appreciate them more in smaller doses.

When I pull up to my childhood home both my sisters' cars are parked in the driveway and not my parents'.

Portia opens up the door for me with her one year old daughter on her hip. "Hey, baby sister. What are you doing here?"

"Since when do I need an excuse to see my family?" I try to reach for my niece but she giggles and clings tighter to my sister. I'm just losing it at how she looks like a softer, chubbier, more precious version of Portia.

'Well, it's good to see you," she says, smiling as her little girl buries her face into her neck. "Say hi to Auntie Phoebe."

I follow them inside and we plop down on the gray wrap around couch in the living room that's been around for over twenty years of family game nights and sleepovers.

I haven't spotted my oldest sister yet but I get the sense that she's close by. "I swear, you two never hang out at your own houses. Do you guys hate your husbands that much?"

"At least we have husbands," Penelope says appearing from the kitchen.

"That was a great burn, sis."

She rolls her eyes and heads back that way. Portia just smiles. The bulk of her attention is on her daughter who is now bouncing in her lap.

"Where's mom and dad?" I ask.

"They're picking up some stuff for dinner," says Portia. "They should be home any minute now."

Our parents arrive home just moments later like we're a part of an old sitcom. I hop up from the couch and follow their voices and the sound of rustling plastic.

"Is Phoebe here?" I hear him ask Penelope.

"I'm here, dad." I wait for him to set down the bags in his arms to hug him.

He squeezes me tightly before pulling back to hold me at an arms length. His eyes dart around my face. "What's wrong? Is everything okay at work?"

"Everything's fine. I just missed you guys."

"We miss you all the time, Phoebe," he says with a big warm smile.

"You're without the boyfriend again," my mom says, when I move to hug her next.

"He's been busy. He just got promoted."

She peaks over at Penelope. "Isn't it about time we meet him?"

"Yes. One of these days, mom."

"Nonetheless," Dad cuts in, wrapping an arm around me and her, "your mother and I love seeing all three of our girls in one place. Can we get some help emptying these bags?"

Penelope and I do most of the unloading. Once the bags are all empty I bundle them up and shove them into the cabinet that's already overflowing with other aging plastic bags.

Mom and Dad slip away to hang out with Portia and I try to follow them.

"Phoebe," Penelope says. "Where are you going? You're helping me with dinner."

I pause in my tracks and instantly curse myself. I wish I'd pretended that I hadn't her.

I hate to even think it, but I'd rather pull out a few of my eyelashes than be alone with Penelope in the kitchen. She's just way too intense. Portia is better equipped to deal with her and the better cook. And I can hear mom using her baby voice so I know she's free.