With the arrival of Rob and Kevin came a blanket of restless excitement upon our household. Our mother, thrown into a cleaning frenzy, snapped at anyone who wasn’t working. She could smell a smile a hundred feet away, and would seek it out with vengeance. Our older sister always liked family over, and she and Holden didn’t seem much changed. Iris, however, became very moody; she was extremely bubbly and happy one minute, but if you turned your back, she grew fangs and bit you in the ass.
Friday was an uneventful school day, but as soon as we got home, we shoved a change of clothes into a small bag along with Iris’s toothbrush, jeans and t-shirt, and Lyre’s pajamas and camera. That night, the four of us spaced ourselves comfortably in our sister’s car as the other children protested and cried.
“Not all of you can go. Poor Aunt Brenda would have an absolute heart attack.” She turned to us before we could close the doors, calling, “I love you all! Drive carefully, Lyre.”
“I always do, mom,” she answered, exasperated. The drive there was fairly uneventful. A very small argument broke out, but it petered out before we came to blows, which was probably a good thing; I could see Lyre begin to eye her backseat-driver flyswatter. We mostly listened to the radio as she sang along.
As soon as we got there, all Hell broke loose. There was pizza, the four of us, the four Williams children, Rob, and Kevin. Our uncle remained quietly on the couch as our aunt took pictures, documenting every laugh, every smile, and every hug.
“You better put these on Facebook,” Lyre told her playfully.
“Of course, honey!”