If the Shoe Fits (Meant To Be #1) by Julie Murphy

Erica sighs. “It’s true. They’ve tamed me. I miss the adrenaline of being on location, but a full night’s sleep is a luxury I never knew I was missing.” She clears her throat. “Okay, brood.”

All around me, my stepsiblings raise their glasses and juice boxes.

Erica glows as all our attention turns to her. “Our sweet Cindy is finally home with us again. Cindy, my darling, we love you. I know you’re figuring out your next steps, but whatever you do, your future is bright.”

“To Cindy!” Anna says, clinking her glass with mine.

“You guys!” I say. It’s no wild night with Sierra, but maybe being here with my family…for a season…won’t be so bad after all.

I reach across the table and cheers with their wineglasses and juice boxes.

The triplets eat fried rice, while Anna, Drew, Erica, and I tear into the sushi. After the initial quiet that comes with the start of a good meal, Erica turns to Anna. “Is Victor coming by tonight?”

“They broke up,” Drew says before Anna even has a chance to answer.

“Drew!” Anna says.

“If Mom knows you broke up with him, it’ll be harder for you to take him back when he comes groveling.”

“Well, that was a truth bomb,” I say.

Erica reaches over Drew and takes Anna’s hand. “I’m sorry, dear, but I know you’ll find someone who truly deserves you. And can also hold down a job.”

Anna huffs. “Victor had a job.”

“Poorly managing your Poshmark closet doesn’t count,” Drew tells her.

“Ouch.” I suck in a breath through my teeth. “You’re better off, Anna.”

It honestly blows my mind that Anna or Drew would ever put up with trash guys like Victor.

Erica’s phone rings from inside her pocket, and we all look to her.

“Mom,” says Anna, “you can answer. You don’t have anything to prove by not answering your phone. It’s no biggie.”

“No biggie!” chirps Mary followed by Jack and Gus.

Erica pulls the phone out of her pocket and resolutely sends the call to voicemail. “Whatever it is, it’ll be there for me to resolve after dinner,” she says, like she’s trying to convince herself. “Now, Cindy, tell me all about your senior project.”

I open my mouth to tell her that my adviser cut me a last-minute break and let me exhibit some handcrafted shoes from my semester abroad junior year, that in actuality I could only bring myself to do the bare minimum for the last nine months, and that it’s a miracle anyone even let me graduate. But Drew interjects herself. “It was balls-to-the-wall amazing!”

“Balls to the wall!” Jack shouts.

Drew bites her lip and whispers, “Sorry.”

“Jackie,” Erica says, “that’s not something we say outside of this house, understand?”

He salutes her. “Balls to the walls!”

Erica rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to explain that one to Coach Geneva. Cin, I wish I could have been there for your senior project and for graduation.”

“But you sent the next-best thing,” I tell her.

Erica couldn’t make it across the country—in the peak of casting season for Before Midnight—with the triplets in tow. She sent Anna and Drew in her place, who showed up to my graduation with literal cowbells and made enough noise when I crossed the stage to rival the large Italian family behind them.

“And then—oh my God,” Anna says, “Cindy took us to this epic graduation party one of her classmates’ parents threw on the rooftop of the Standard, and, like, I had a moment—cross my heart—where I thought maybe I could be a New Yorker.”

Drew laughs. “That moment passed very quickly.”

“It was brief but real!” Anna leans her head on my shoulder. “Cindy would have shown me the ropes, right, Cin?”

“Anna, my sweet sister,” I say, the word still feeling a little weird in my mouth after all these years, “I don’t know how to say this, but I just don’t think you’re cut out for public transportation.”

Erica laughs so hard she’s gasping for air, and the triplets look from one to another in confusion.

“Adult jokes,” Gus says with a sigh.

Erica’s phone rings again, cutting through our laughter. She glances at the caller ID and says, “Oh, shoot. This will only take a sec.” She swivels to the side in her chair and speaks into her earpiece.

“I’m telling Coach Geneva!” Mary says in a singsong voice.

Erica inhales deeply, giving Mary a pointed look, and says, “Beck, you’ve got ten seconds. I’m in the middle of family dinner.”

We all watch while she listens intently.

“You’re here? At my house?” Erica sighs and turns to us. “Any chance we could set an extra plate?”

“On it,” Drew says.

Erica stands and heads for the door. “All right, I’ll buzz you in.”

Moments later, Erica returns with a stout white woman with half-shaved black hair wearing combat boots and jeans rolled at the cuff with a white tank top and thick red suspenders—which it seems are more of a necessity than a style statement.

“You all know Beck,” Erica says. “Cindy, you might remember Beck from the wedding years ago. She’s sort of my—”