You know that feeling when someone you love keeps chipping away at your happiness, piece by piece, until you’re left wondering if you’re the problem? That’s exactly where I found myself last weekend, watching my 25th birthday dinner crumble before my eyes because of my sister’s impossible expectations.
I’m Sandra, and I’ve spent most of my life trying to understand my sister, Caroline. She’s got this way of asking for things without actually asking… like she expects the world to read her mind and cater to her every whim.
When she wants the windows opened, she’ll sigh dramatically and say, “Goodness, the air feels so stuffy today!”
Or when she wants the AC on, she’ll keep saying stuff like, “Does anyone else feel really hot?” And if you ask if she wants the AC on, she’ll go, “No, I’m good! But if YOU’RE feeling hot, then turn it on!”
But nothing prepared me for what happened at Rosewood Bistro that night.
Mom had chosen the place specifically. It was intimate, cozy, and perfect for celebrating another year of my life. I should’ve been floating on cloud nine.
Instead, I found myself watching Caroline fidget with her napkin, her eyes darting toward the bar every few minutes. She’d already started her usual routine.
“Wow, that couple over there sure looks like they’re enjoying their evening!” she said, nodding toward a pair sharing cocktails at the next table.
Our brother, Liam, caught my eye and rolled his shoulders. He knew what was coming too.
“Those drinks look absolutely refreshing,” Caroline continued, fanning herself with the dessert menu. “I bet they’re perfect for a warm evening like this.”
Our waitress, a sweet girl named Gini, approached our table for the third time. “Can I get anyone anything else to drink? Another round perhaps?”
“I’ll have another coffee,” Liam said, settling back in his chair.
“Make that two,” I added, hoping to keep things light. “Mom?”
“The house wine was lovely, I’ll have another glass,” Mom replied.
Gini turned to Caroline with raised eyebrows. “And for you, miss?”
Caroline’s fingers drummed against the table. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then smiled that tight smile that never reached her eyes. “Oh no, I’m perfectly fine! Thank you, though.”
The waitress nodded and headed toward the bar.
The moment she was out of earshot, Caroline’s entire demeanor shifted. Her shoulders sagged, and she let out this long, dramatic sigh that seemed to fill the entire restaurant.
“Whoa! That order went fast. I wonder what their other drinks taste like!” she said, a little too loud, and her eyes locked on the table next to us.
“You could’ve ordered one and found out! Liam said casually, completely unaware he’d just lit the fuse behind Caroline’s forced smile.
“I guess some people just naturally think of others,” she hissed, her voice carrying just enough volume to make the neighboring tables glance over. “While others…” She trailed off, leaving the implication hanging between us like a loaded gun.
My stomach twisted. This was my birthday dinner and my special day. And somehow, it was becoming about Caroline’s unspoken desires and wounded feelings.
“Carol, if you wanted a drink, you should’ve just ordered one,” I conveyed politely.
