"Did you pick your classes yet? I could help you," Celeste offered. "I read through the entire online course catalog when Finn was at Brandeis. He majored in creative writing and minored in journalism."
Julie smiled. "I have to register on Friday, and I would love your help."
Celeste was petite, with more her father's build than Matthew, and her round face hadn't yet slimmed down with age. And despite being obviously bright and overly articulate, there was something very immature about her. The light green pinafore-style dress that she had on looked more appropriate for a second-grader than a teenager. Julie would never have been caught dead in something like that, and she could only imagine how well it went over with Celeste's fellow students.
But what struck Julie the most about Celeste had to do with what - or who? - was in the chair next to her.
"Oh, Julie! I didn't introduce you properly, did I?" Celeste chirped happily and then turned to the seat next to her. "Flat Finn, this is Julie. Julie, this is Flat Finn."
Erin poured herself some sparkling water, and Roger continued daydreaming about brine, but Julie was sure she heard Matt catch his breath. She eyed the seat again.
Frankly, she'd been hoping to get through dinner without addressing this issue.
No one else had mentioned anything so far, but this must be what Matt had started to tell her about: A life-size cardboard cutout of their brother Finn leaned stiffly angled against the chair, his gaze fixed rigidly on the ceiling's light fixture.
The funny thing was that - even with the fixed stare - Flat Finn was undeniably cute. Hot, actually, which Julie knew was inappropriate to think considering that, except for the flat cardboard form, he had a lot in common with a deflated blow-up doll. She hadn't gotten a good look at the real Finn in the snowboarding picture, but in this large picture version she saw perfectly mussed-up blond hair, an athletic, ruddy complexion, and a lean but muscular build.
Finn was decidedly adorable. Even in pancake form.
Julie looked across the table and tried not to pause too long before speaking. "It's very nice to meet you, Flat Finn. I thought you were traveling."
Celeste wrinkled her nose. "Finn is the one who is traveling. Right now he is volunteering at a game reserve for rescued animals. This is Flat Finn. He is a symbolic representation of my brother."
OK, this was obviously not normal. In fact, it was downright weird. But Julie was a guest in their home, and she would be as polite to this Flat Finn thing as she was to the rest of the family. "In that case, Flat Finn, would you like some basil and lemongrass duck?"
Celeste quickly shook her head. "He already had dinner. He is experimenting with not eating after five o'clock because he suspects that he can improve his metabolism and get more cut. His word not mine. He is quite interested in women, though, and he thinks he would have better luck if he could just get rid of his tiny love handles." She rolled her eyes, whispering, "I know, it is beyond outlandish. He looks good just the way he is."
"I admire his self-control," Julie said. "See if I can pass up hot fudge sundaes at midnight."
Celeste glanced at Flat Finn. "He does not approve. But I think that he is just jealous because you have such a naturally svelte figure."
"If Flat Finn loses what he perceives to be love handles, I'll reward him with a one-time double sundae."
"Deal. But Mom better not sneak him any Oreos. Those are his favorite treat."
"I promise." Erin held up her hand, palm outward, pledging not to serve cookies to her son's unresponsive twin.
Julie shrugged to herself. She didn't particularly care about Flat Finn's presence. If everyone wanted to act as though it was perfectly ordinary to hang out with a flat, replicated family member, it was fine by her. After all, he was polite, not at all bad to look at, and didn't hog more than his fair share of the Thai dumplings. Granted, his conversational skills were lacking, but he was probably just shy around new people...
Look, everyone has a few psychological idiosyncrasies, right? Julie reasoned. She probably had a few, and this was Celeste's. Hell, there were worse things than this. Maybe not more bizarre, but there were worse. Probably.
"Julie, guess where Finn is right now?" Celeste asked excitedly.
"Antarctica?"
"No."
"Syria? Mongolia? New Zealand? Tallahassee? No? Must be Boise then."
"There are no game reserves in Boise. At least, not that I know of. He is in South Africa. The Eastern Cape, right by the Indian Ocean. He sent me pictures of antelopes yesterday and said that next time he will send a picture of a white tiger. They are very rare."
"Very cool," Julie agreed. "How long is he gone for?"
"That is unclear," Celeste said. "He has been going all over the world for months now, and he still has a long list of places he wants to see. He finds jobs and charity work wherever he goes, so he is not just some spoiled brat on a permanent vacation. He might even climb Kilimanjaro."
"That sounds terrifying," Erin said. "I'm not one for heights myself, but Finn is certainly qualified. He climbed Denali and Rainier."
"Really?" Julie said. "That's impressive."
Matt coughed, and made a show of reaching across the table for another carton of food.
"He did. I will show you those pictures later, too," Celeste said.
Erin smiled. "Finn is our adventurous child. When he was eight years old, I came home from work one day to find him at the top of the telephone pole outside our house. The babysitter was talking on the phone and failed to notice that her charge had scaled up forty feet. I fired her, obviously, and when I asked Finn what had possessed him to do that, he told me that he'd been hoping to see into Ellie Livingston's bedroom window."