It was perfect. Her brothers and sisters would love it.

“You make those?”

Daphne jumped, startled. She turned to see her brother, Mitch, crunching on a mouthful of nachos, and gesturing towards the tiny sombreros with a half-eaten chip.

“Oh, Mitch! No! You can’t be in here! You’ll ruin the surprise!” she stammered, pushing him towards the door. Mitch glanced at the stovetop as Daphne continued to try, unsuccessfully, to muscle him out of the room.

“What is in that pan?” he asked, pointing to a saucepan full of unrecognizable foodstuffs.

Daphne dropped her arms, defeated.

“Escamoles,” she said softly.

“What’re escamoles?” Mitch asked.

“Ant egg tacos,” Daphne replied, “I was making an authentic Mexican lunch,” she said sadly, “but I guess it’s not a surprise anymore.”

Mitch patted his sister affectionately on the shoulder.

“Aww. Well, you know where they have authentic Mexican lunches? Mexico. Tell you what,” Mitch said, trying to coax his sister out of her funk, “how about you and I go on a little adventure. If we hop on the private plane now, we could be in Mexico in no time. Huh? What d’ya say? Go pack your trunk.”

Daphne smiled hesitantly at her brother. He plucked a tiny sombrero from the wall and placed it on his head, modeling it with mock seriousness.

“That would be authentic, wouldn’t it?” she remarked softly, “But, I don’t like leaving the rooftop garden unattended for too long-”

“Claire can take care of it.” Mitch countered with a shrug.

Daphne cringed at the thought of her sister tending to her beloved garden.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Apparently her green thumb has recently become cursed-“

“Then Dennis can do it. No probs. You go get ready, I’ll go tell Denn. Deal? Deal.” Mitch said confidently, giving Daphne a firm pat on the back. “Mexico, here we come!” He whooped as he ambled out of the kitchen.

“Okay.” Daphne finally said to the empty room. “I’ll fetch my floppy gardening hat for him. I find it helps with things…” she trailed off meekly.

Daphne walked slowly to her room and closed the door, leaning against it. She paused before hauling her old traveling trunk out from under the bed, relishing the sense of calm she felt whenever she was alone in her room. She dusted off the trunk with one hand, and opened it carefully. She was pleased to see that it was still neatly packed from the last trip she had planned, but never taken.

“Right,” she said, closing the trunk.

She barely even knew what was in that luggage anymore, it had been packed for so long. And though she fantasized about being a world traveler, Daphne never really went anywhere. The few times that she got as far as the elevator door, suitcase in hand, she felt a touch queasy.
She stood up, and went to her bookshelf. It was bursting with old travel books, packed side by side as tightly as possible. Daphne scanned the spines for her Mexico guidebook, eventually locating it on the bottom shelf. She yanked at it for a moment, before finally pulling it free.
Daphne opened the book and flipped through the pages. She studied the brightly coloured photos of beaches, festivals, and landmarks, just as she had done countless times before.

Why, she wondered, would I need to go when I’ve already seen it all?

And what about her responsibilities? Who, if not her, would play the piano for her sister Claire on Sunday evenings? And who would dance with Dennis to all his favorite records? She would certainly miss THAT little indulgence whilst traveling…
It’s probably best, thought Daphne, if I stay here.

“Mitch?” she called into the hallway as she opened her bedroom door. “Mitchey?”

Daphne wandered down the hallway and into the grand foyer, where Mitch was trying on sunglasses in the reflection of the polished brass doorknob.

“Mitch. I’ve thought it over and… I don’t think I can accompany you to Mexico. I’ve got some things I need to do here, and I’m quite sure that Dennis mentioned something about a ribbon-cutting later this week, so I-“

Mitch turned to face her, an expensive pair of sunglasses balanced crookedly on his snout.

“What? Yeah, yeah, I can’t tonight. I’m busy. Hey, are these glasses a “do” or a “don’t”?”
Daphne breathed a sigh of relief.

“You look splendid,” she said before drifting back to her room, where she looked forward to another afternoon of researching other exotic locales she might some day avoid visiting.

“That’s not what I asked.” Mitch mumbled, watching her go. He turned to re-adjust his glasses in the reflection of the doorknob, only to be met nose to nose with his eldest sister Claire. She looked concerned.

“Mitch,” she said seriously, “please have one of the maids call the exterminator. A swarm of ants has invaded the kitchen…”