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Lucy doesn’t exactly fear what she’ll find once she returns to the apartment. Tamara loves antagonizing Tim, especially as a joke, but calling a family meeting clearly means it’s more serious. So she waltzes in, prepared to mediate, and immediately bursts out laughing.
“What?” Tim questions, defensive, cheeks turning red.
Tamara huffs, “It’s not funny!”
“Oh, I think it’s very funny,” Lucy cackles, snapping pictures. Tim, in a bright pink bathroom robe that definitely belongs to Tamara. Tamara, soaked from head to toe with her mascara running. Kojo, happily running around their feet, tail wagging, covered in flour.
Tamara stares at Lucy with a glare that could frighten even the biggest of men. “I want him out.”
“Okay,” Lucy says, indulgent. “You wanna dry off first, or…?”
Tamara points dramatically at Tim, expression twisting. “I would,” She starts, as if giving a monologue. “But he is wearing my Fucking Robe!”
“Ah,” Lucy nods, as if this was news to her.
“I didn’t know it was hers!” Tim defends. “I thought it was yours.”
“Since when does Lucy wear pink!” Tamara snaps. “Lucy doesn’t wear pink! Her robe is white! White, Tim! White and pink look nothing like each other!” Her volume rises, borderline hysterical, and Lucy snorts. Tamara turns to her, betrayed. “Et tu, Brute?” She questions, expression twisting. “Wow, I see how it is. Typical. Woman abandons her sister of twenty years for a man. Of course. I should’ve sabotaged this relationship from the start.”
“You’ve only known each other for—“ Tim abruptly stops when Lucy frantically shakes her head. He nods solemnly instead, “…yes.”
“Yes what?” Tamara questions eyebrow raised.
“Yes…” He throws Lucy a desperate glance.
She shakes her head, “No, I think you got it.”
His eyes widen, betrayed. He points to Kojo, “He pushed Tamara into a puddle.”
Tamara’s cheek turn red, teeth grit. “And if you had taken him out like you were supposed to,” She snaps. “This wouldn’t have happened!” Kojo sneezes, making flour fly off his fur. Said flour immediately sticks to Tamara’s clothes and any exposed skin. “I hate him.”
Lucy nods, knowing Tamara’s talking about Tim. “I know,” She says. “But it was an accident, he’s going to apologize, and give Kojo a bath.” She glances down at the happy dog. “How did he end up covered in flour, exactly?”
“Oh, this is a hoot,” Tamara snaps, sarcastic. “Your boyfriend can’t pay attention to anything, so he left Kojo’s food right next to the opened flour bag.”
“I was adding it to the bigger bag!” Tim defends. “To make it easier to get to! I was gonna make a lava cake!”
“And then he started watching the Kardashians and got distracted. Allegedly.” Tamara’s eyes narrow in Tim’s direction. “Personally, I think he pretended to get distracted so he wouldn’t have to clean up the flour.”
“For the last time, Tamara, I did not mean to drop the flour, or use your bathrobe, or your razor—“
“YOU USED MY RAZOR?”
Lucy gives Tim her best, most recognizable, are you fucking stupid? look.
Tim sputters in his own defense. “We all use the same kind! Why was yours in our bathroom!”
“Because we’re fixing the water in mine!” Tamara exclaims, throwing her hands up.
Lucy immediately surges forward, placating. “How about you shower, use the new razor and new bathrobe I got you— I know, I’m the best sister ever with magical prophetess powers— and then I’ll help blow dry your hair.”
Tamara huffs. “Fine. But I want that lava cake.”
“Tim will make you two,” Lucy promises. With that, Tamara stalks off to the bathroom, muttering grumpily the entire time.
Tim, meanwhile, is pouting on the couch. “I didn’t even do anything.”
Lucy giggles. “I know, babe.”
Tamara burts out of the bathroom seconds later. “Tim.” She starts, threatening, possibly angrier than before. “Did. You. Use. My. Spring. Thermal. Water. And. My. Moisturizer.” She pauses, taking a breath. “And. My. Face. Masks.”
Tim pursues his lips, awkwardly averting his eyes. He rubs the back of his neck, “Well… when you put it like that.”
“UGH!” Tamara shrieks, slamming the bathroom door closed.
Tim raises an eyebrow in Lucy’s direction. Lucy, in turn, taps him on the shoulder comfortingly. “It’s not about you, she’s just stressed over finals and she hasn’t seen her girlfriend in days.”
“Ah,” Tim nods to himself. “I’ll buy her some more moisturizer and water. And face masks.”
“Don’t worry too much about it,” Lucy says. “She’d definitely appreciate it, but this is just her way of getting the stress out. Making a big deal out of everything and being dramatic is how my baby sister copes.”
Tim nods to himself. “Okay. Does arguing make it worse or better?”
“Hm,” Lucy hums. “Better if you’re flailing and funny about it. If you get angry, you make it worse.” She can practically see him filling that way for later, making a mental note, and Lucy loves him for it. Loves him so much more than she ever thought possible.
“Hey, Tim.”
“Yes?” He asks, hand searching for hers. She squeezes once, and rubs her thumb across his knuckles.
“Why were you using so many face products?”
“Oh,” Tim says. “Tamara’s got me watching those ‘get ready with me videos’ since she’s trying to teach me Spanish, and watching them in Spanish helps, and it kinda bleeds into my daily life.” Tim blinks. “I’ve come to realize my skin is very dry and I’m trying to avoid aging my skin too fast— oh!” He snaps his fingers, pointing the index at Lucy. “I found out sunscreen needs to go on the neck too, not just the face! Have you seen the photo?”
Lucy knows exactly what photo he’s talking about. She shakes her head anyway, and watches him dig for his phone as he murmurs about hydration and hyperpigmentation. God, Lucy loves this man.