Plan B (Best Laid Plans #2)(5)

But I'm self-aware enough to know that between us, Violet is the one people would perceive as good. She's the planner, the rule-follower, the girl who crosses her t's and dots her i's. She always has been. She was the kid who asked permission. I was the kid who jumped in feet first and asked for forgiveness after.

She's definitely not the twin who gets knocked up from a one-night stand.

Violet is the most loyal sister in the world and she'd do anything for me, including putting her own life to the side for mine. Which is exactly what she'd do if she knew I was pregnant and why I've been keeping it from her. It's killing me, keeping it from her. I normally tell her everything but she's in a bit of a bad place right now, my sister. Hence how she ended up living with me. Temporarily. But if she finds out about this baby she'll insist on making it permanent. On sticking around to help. She'll make decisions about her life based on what's best for mine.

I can't let that happen.

So it was time to kick her out of the nest, so to speak.

"What you need, Vi, is a kick in the ass. An adventure!" I'm ramping up my sales pitch now, which isn't difficult because my sister really could use an adventure. In a series of very unfortunate events she lost her job, her boyfriend and her apartment all at the same time. That's how she landed on my couch. The unfairness of it isn't lost on me. Violet is a careful planner and I fly by the seat of my pants, yet I'm the one with two jobs and a condo. "Aren't you bored, Violet? You should live a little. Throw caution to the wind. Grab life by the balls!" I wish she'd grab someone by the balls. I don't think she's been with anyone since her douchebag ex-boyfriend, and if anyone deserves a fling it's Violet. I'm positive her last boyfriend was shit in bed even though she would never admit it. She said he was fine, which honestly was all the answer I needed. Fine in bed is not a ringing endorsement. It'd make a great blog post though. I tuck that idea away in case I decide to switch gears on my blog, or submit an article to Cosmo. Fine in bed: how to avoid a lackluster report card from your lover. Or, Fine in bed: words no man wants to hear. The title needs work, but the idea is solid and freelance articles are a nice supplement to my income.

I do really well for myself, a fact that seems to surprise a lot of people. Believe me, I catch the looks I get when I say I'm a blogger. The looks that say, Oh, you're unemployed. If I tell people I'm a travel guide I get the looks that say, Is that a real job?

You can't win with people sometimes.

The blog has been my primary source of income for the past two years and it's not unsubstantial. I kept the travel guide gig because it was ideal and worked in perfect harmony with my blog, which is primarily about travel. I also sell a course via my website to people who want to learn how to get into blogging. Best practices for social media and how to build a platform and catch the attention of advertisers. That kind of thing.

The travel guide job isn't sustainable with a baby. Which means the clock is about to run out on that job for me. Tick-fucking-tock. I'd planned on quitting in a few months, depending on the tour schedules and how I was feeling. Squeezing down bus aisles and leading tour groups across America would have been impossible by the end of a pregnancy, and as a single mother it would be out of the question. I'd have no one to leave the baby with for seven-to fourteen-day stretches while I led a tour. Besides which, I don't want to leave the baby for seven—to fourteen-day stretches. I mean, I can't imagine that I would. It's early and unexpected but already, I can't imagine being separated from my baby for that kind of time.

So when I was invited to the blogging conference I decided to accelerate my plans to resign from the tour company before a better solution occurred to me—sending Violet. Twin win, am I right? Except she's a rule-follower, through and through. The yin to my yang. I'm only asking her to replace me this once, I just wanted to push her out of her comfort zone a little.

But the point of it wasn't to stress Violet out. If she doesn't want to do it, she doesn't want to do it. I wanted her to have fun, not an anxiety attack. "It's no biggie, Vi," I offer. "Do it or don't. Stay or go."

"It’s no biggie?" Violet shrieks into my ear because she doesn't know any of this. "You'll get fired if I go home, Daisy. Because this tour starts in five minutes and you're not here. Where are you anyway? Are you in an airport? It sounds like you're in an airport. And how can you be so blasé about getting fired? Getting fired is a really big deal, Daisy."

She's right about that. About the airport, not about getting fired.

"Getting fired is not that big a deal. I keep telling you that. Perspective, Vi." She groans in my ear but I continue with my pep talk anyway. "Life changes every single day. You never know what tomorrow is going to bring, believe me. Seize the fucking day."

"What is so urgent that you'd be willing to jeopardize this job?" Violet demands. "It's a pretty sweet job."

"I've got a thing to do," I respond. "I'm hanging up now. Just get on the bus, Violet. You can fake your way through this tour. You've seen me do it, it's not that complicated." I took her along on this exact tour last month because it was undersold, which meant there were extra seats on the bus. I hadn't realized I was pregnant at the time, but I smile now at the irony. See how flying by the seat of my pants tends to work out? I'd never intended to send her, but here we are.