It Ends with Us

You’re
perfect,” he says, kissing me.
Allysa brushes past us. “
You’re
perfect,” she mimics. “Hey Ryle, guess
what?”
Ryle releases me. “What?”
Allysa grabs the trash can and drops it on the counter. “Lily needs to
hire more employees.”
I laugh at her constant repetition. Ryle squeezes my hand and says,
“Sounds like business was good.”
I shrug. “I can’t complain. I mean . . . I’m no 
brain
surgeon, but I’m
pretty good at what I do.”
Ryle laughs. “You guys need any help cleaning up?”
Allysa and I put him to work, helping us clean up after the big day. We
get everything finished and prepped for tomorrow, and then Marshall
arrives just as we’re finishing up. He’s carrying a bag when he walks inside
and drops it on the counter. He begins to pull out huge lumps of some
kind of material and tosses them at each of us. I catch mine and unfold it.
It’s a onesie.
With kittens all over it.
“Bruins game. Free beer. Suit up, team!”
Allysa groans and says, “Marshall, you made six million dollars this year.
Do we 
really
need free beer?”
He shoves a finger against her lips, pushing them in opposite
directions. “Shh! Don’t speak like a rich girl, Issa. Blasphemy.”
She laughs and Marshall grabs the onesie out of her hand. He unzips it
and helps her into it. Once we’re all suited up, we lock the door and head
to the bar.
I’ve never in my life seen so many men in onesies. Allysa and I are the
only women wearing them, but I kind of like that. It’s loud. So loud, and
each time the Bruins make a good play, Allysa and I have to cover our ears
from the screams. After about half an hour, a booth on the top floor
opens up and we all run upstairs to claim it.
“Much better,” Allysa says as we slide in. It’s much quieter up here,
although still loud compared to normal standards.
A waitress comes over to take our drink order. I order red wine, and as
soon as I do, Marshall practically jumps out of his seat. “Wine?” he yells.

---

“You’re in a onesie! You don’t get free wine with a onesie!”
He tells the waitress to bring me a beer, instead. Ryle tells her to bring
me wine. Allysa wants water, and this upsets Marshall even more. He tells
the waitress to bring four bottles of beer and then Ryle says, “Two beers,
red wine, and a water.” The waitress is very confused by the time she leaves
our table.
Marshall throws his arm around Allysa and kisses her. “How am I
supposed to try and knock you up tonight if you aren’t a little wasted?”
The look on Allysa’s face changes, and I feel instantly bad for her. I
know Marshall only said that in fun, but it has to bother her. She was just
telling me a few days ago how depressed she is that she can’t get pregnant.
“I can’t have beer, Marshall.”
“Then drink wine, at least. You like me more when you’re tipsy.” He
laughs at himself, but Allysa doesn’t.
“I can’t have wine, either. I can’t have 
any
alcohol, actually.”
Marshall stops laughing.
My heart does a flip-flop.
Marshall turns in the booth and grabs her shoulders, making her face
him straight-on. “Allysa?”
She just starts nodding and I don’t know who starts crying first. Me or
Marshall or Allysa. “I’m gonna be a dad?” he yells.
She’s still nodding, and I’m just bawling like an idiot. Marshall jumps
up in the booth and yells, “I’m gonna be a dad!”
I can’t even explain what this moment is like. A grown man in a onesie,
standing up in a booth at a bar, yelling to whoever will listen that he’s
gonna be a dad. He pulls her up and they’re both standing in the booth
now. He kisses her and it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
Until I look at Ryle and catch him chewing on his bottom lip like he’s
trying to blink back a potential tear. He glances at me and sees me staring,
so he looks away. “Shut up,” he says. “She’s my sister.”
I smile and lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “Congratulations,
Uncle Ryle.”
Once the parents-to-be stop making out in the booth, Ryle and I both
stand up and congratulate them. Allysa said she’s been feeling sick for a
while, but just took a test this morning before our grand opening. She was
going to wait and tell Marshall tonight when they got home, but she
couldn’t hold it in for another second.

---

Our drinks come and we order food. Once the waitress walks away, I
look at Marshall. “How did you two meet?”
He says, “Allysa tells the story better than I do.”
Allysa perks up and leans forward. “I hated him,” she says. “He was
Ryle’s best friend and he was always at the house. I thought he was so
annoying. He had just moved to Ohio from Boston and he had that
Boston accent. He thought it made him so cool but I just wanted to slap
him every time he spoke.”
“She’s 
so
sweet,” Marshall says, sarcastically.
“You were an idiot,” Allysa replies, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, one day
Ryle and I had a few friends over. Nothing big, but our parents were out of
town, so of course we had a little get-together.”
“There were thirty people there,” Ryle says. “It was a party.”
“Okay, a party,” Allysa says. “I walked into the kitchen and Marshall was
standing there pressed up against some floozy.”
“She wasn’t a floozy,” he says. “She was a nice girl. Tasted like Cheetos,
but . . .”
Allysa glares at him so he shuts up. She turns back to me. “I lost it,” she
says. “I started yelling at him to take his whores to his own house. The girl
was literally so terrified of me, she ran for the door and didn’t come back.”
“Cock blocker,” Marshall says.
Allysa punches him in the shoulder. “Anyway. After I cock blocked him,
I ran to my room, embarrassed that I did that. It was out of pure jealousy,
and I didn’t even realize I liked him that way until I saw his hands on some
other girl’s ass. I threw myself on my bed and started crying. A few minutes
later, he walked into my room and asked me if I was okay. I rolled over
and yelled, ‘I 
like
you, you stupid fuck-face!’
”
“And the rest is history . . .” Marshall says.
I laugh. “Awe. Stupid fuck-face. How sweet.”
Ryle holds up a finger and says, “You’re leaving out the best part.”
Allysa shrugs. “Oh yeah. So Marshall walked over to me, pulled me off
the bed, kissed me with the same mouth he was just kissing the floozy with,
and we made out for half an hour. Ryle walked in on us and started
screaming at Marshall. Then Marshall pushed Ryle out of my bedroom,
locked the door, and made out with me for another hour.”
Ryle is shaking his head. “Betrayed by my best friend.”
Marshall pulls Allysa to him. “I like her, you stupid fuck-face.”

---

I laugh, but Ryle turns to me with a serious look on his face. “I didn’t
speak to him for an entire month, I was so mad. I eventually got over it.
We were eighteen, she was seventeen. Wasn’t much I could do in the way
of keeping them apart.”
“Wow,” I say. “I sometimes forget how close in age you two are.”
Allysa smiles and says, “Three kids in three years. I feel so sorry for my
parents.”
The table grows quiet. I see an apologetic look pass from Allysa to Ryle.
“Three?” I ask. “You have another sibling?”
Ryle straightens up and takes a sip of his beer. He sets it back down on
the table and says, “We had an older brother. He passed away when we
were kids.”