Will smiles at me as I pass him in the hall, “Hey.”
I smile back demurely as I return, “Hey.”
We continue right by each other. It’s merely a nicety, a requirement formed by being relations. My sister married his brother last fall, an incident that was both embarrassing and awkward since I’d never noticed Will before in my life, and then abruptly realized how wonderful he was. And, most unfortunately, that any relationship between us was now thoroughly impossible.
Not that I thought so, but he did. And that’s really all that matters, isn’t it? As long as he believes it to be impossible, it must be. I don’t embarrass myself by trying to convince him otherwise. There really isn’t any point when someone is as convicted as he is.
Whenever he introduces me to his friends, he calls me his sister. Conversely, I call him my brother-in-law. I still manage to have minute little arguments with him like this. I doubt he’s even aware of the importance of this specification, but it makes all the difference to me.