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𝙄𝙑. WHAT A SHAME SHE WENT MAD / 𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘔𝘈𝘋𝘌 𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘓𝘐𝘒𝘌 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛
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NEW YORK, 1990s
MY BROTHER'S CLINICwas a small building, but it had a big price tag-- I knew that because Archer would bring it up often, complaining about how painstaking it was for him to find investors that would be interested in helping him start it up.
He'd been ambitious to open a private clinic in Brooklyn but he'd set out with a plan: find some investors that would be interested in helping him open his own space.
He'd spent the last two years getting resources together, finding partners for his practice, finding clients and finding the right amount of funding he'd need to have a low-cost division that focused on wellness and sexual health. It'd translated to a lot of sweat, tears and blood (in the middle of moving a desk across the room, Archer accidentally caught his hand in one of the hinges and spent the following fifty seconds swearing loudly and holding a cloth over his new wound) but finally, he was adding the final touches.
He'd enlisted me to be a helping hand, placing me in charge of doing miscellaneous tasks like checking inventory and overseeing furniture placement. I'd done so with purpose, perhaps I liked to be in charge a little too much- I picked up my clipboard and went through like a whirlwind, completely stocking up the inventory and yelling at the furniture movers with a little bit too much stubbornness. Within days everything was set.
That lead us to the reception.
Of course it did, what would a Montgomery be without a reason to throw a posh soiree?
Addison, of course, was in charge of that part; I couldn't plan anything for the life of me.
"Hors d'oeuvres?!"
From behind a large table of food, I nodded silently, gesturing towards a tray of snacks. Ever so often, I'd glance over at my sister, watching as her face began to slowly hue towards the tones of her hair.
I'd been sneaking snacks since I'd arrived at five-- and now it was seven pm (a quarter of an hour out from the first on-time guests) and Addison had barely batted an eyelash at the dwindling numbers of appetisers.
"Where's the brie?"
I waved a wad of cheese up in the air as she continued to do large, dizzying circles- something atone to vultures flying spirals around dead carcasses in the desert. I was doing everything while sneaking the odd pastry, scooting along in a pair of heels that were two seconds away from breaking my back.
