“No. It’s a you-ignoring-me problem.”
“This sounds like a husband problem.”
That made her smile.
Not a nice smile.
“Honestly? Think of it as a test.”
I stared at her.
“A what?”
“A test.”
She set down her mug.
“If Andrew can be tempted because another woman walks through the kitchen in a towel, wouldn’t you rather know now?”
“Think of it as a test.”
I thought I’d misheard her.
“You’re deliberately trying to tempt my husband?”
“No.” She said it as though I were being ridiculous. “I’m seeing whether he can be tempted.”
“Those are not as different as you think.”
“If he fails, that’s on him.”
“You’re deliberately trying to tempt my husband?”
I folded my arms.
“And if I ask my sister to stop doing something in my home?”
Kayla rolled her eyes.
“You’re making this way bigger than it is.”
Kayla rolled her eyes.
***
That evening, I told Andrew.
He was loading the dishwasher.
For several seconds, the only sound was plates sliding into the rack.
Finally he said, “She actually used the word ‘test’?”
“Twice.”
I told Andrew.
Andrew pushed the lower rack in.
“I’ll stay out of it.”
“Why?”
“She’s your sister.”
At the time, that sounded reasonable.
Three days later, I understood why it wasn’t.
“She’s your sister.”
***
Sunday morning, I was buttering toast when I heard Kayla coming downstairs.
Andrew sat at the table with his coffee.
She appeared in the doorway.
Same towel.
Same bare feet.
Same complete refusal to care that I’d asked her to stop.
She appeared in the doorway.
I put down the knife.
“Kayla…”
Andrew touched my wrist.
“Hang on.”
I looked at him.
He stood and carried his mug to the counter.
“Let me answer this one.”
“Hang on.”
Kayla smiled.
“Finally!”
Andrew leaned against the counter.
