Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Enough about Lizzy!” Daphne groaned. “Stop moping around and go clean something! Cleaning always makes you feel better. And Sophia? Get out of your head. Josh is insanely in love with you. God, what is it with you two?”
What is it with me?
Who knows.
Today, I’m on aunt duty, and it’s for the best. I need a little one-on-one time with Harper. It’s a Monday, but her school is closed for a random teacher in-service day. Luke’s with the team in Toronto, and Chloe’s trying to carve out a bit of time to work on a business she’s growing: a pop-up bakery in the Hamptons. My future sister-in-law is a badass. She’s about to marry Luke, who basically has more money than Mark Zuckerberg. She could be lying on some exotic beach sipping mai tais and role-playing White Lotus, but here she is, working her butt off.
I told her this when I picked up Harper earlier.
“I just want to say I’m so proud of you.”
She frowned. “Okay…”
“You’re such an inspiration.”
“You’re hurting me.”
I was hugging her extremely tightly, so I eased up a little bit.
“It’s going to be so fun to be sisters.”
She pried me off her then, holding me at arm’s length and adding a little shake for emphasis. “Are you losing it? What’s going on? You’re never like this. Did you forget to run this morning?”
“No, I took the exact same route as always, didn’t veer off track once.”
Harper came barreling into the room with her red heart-shaped sunglasses already in place. “Ready to go, Aunt Tate?!”
Harper and I thrive when we’re alone together in the city. We go on a shopping spree at the toy store, and I let her pick out a Barbie because it gives me endless amounts of joy to both let Harper have whatever she wants and to piss my brother off in one fell swoop. She’s spoiled enough as is, Chloe! Never.
Then we go to a bookstore and a candy shop, stop off at McDonald’s for lunch, and while we’re on our way to the Central Park Zoo in the afternoon, we pass a hair and makeup boutique. Peering through the window, I see the shop owner—an older woman—drumming her fingers on her desk, waiting for customers, and I feel bad so I ask Harper if she wants to get a makeover.
Now, we sit in front of the snow monkey enclosure sharing a bag of cotton candy in full hair and makeup. I can’t describe the way we look except to say JCPenney would be tripping over themselves to book us for one of their early ’90s catalogues. There is so much blue eyeshadow caked on my eyelids I’m surprised I still have 20/20 vision. So much industrial-strength hairspray is layered onto my locks I barely have the strength to lift my head.
We scared a small child who walked in front of us a second ago. I worry he thought we were clowns. Harper thinks we look amazing though, like one of her Barbies, so whatever.
“Pass the cotton candy,” I say, pointing to the bag she’s going to town on.
She hands it over and keeps swinging her legs back and forth beneath the bench, looking at the snow monkeys. They’re kind of cute, I guess. Sort of like baboons but with a thick winter coat.
“Why are you sad today?”
Her question takes me aback.
I’ve got a mouthful of pink sugary goodness. I swallow it down and insist, “I’m not sad.”
“Oh, maybe I was wrong.”
She shrugs and accepts the cotton candy bag as I hold it out to her again. The fact that she doesn’t press the issue means I feel like I have to.
“Do I seem sad?”
“Yeah, I mean you’ve barely said two words all day.”
Crap. I thought I was being fun. Have I been quiet?
“I’m just…”
I’m about to feed her total bullshit because why not? She’s eight. But then I pivot and just go for it.
“I’m having boy problems.”
She furrows her brows. “Like a boy is being mean to you? You should tell Dad. I bet he’d punch him for you.”
Noted.
“No, not like that. This is more like love problems.”
She nods soberly as if she understands completely. “Love is really hard.” She speaks like she’s a hardened veteran of the dating and relationship world. “Back in winter, I sorta had a boyfriend.”
This absolutely shocks me, but I try not to show it. I don’t want to spook her into clamming up, so I just give an ol’ nonchalant “Oh yeah?”
“Yes, Eugene. He’s really cute and so popular.”
“Eugene, huh?”
Woof.
“Yeah, anyway, we were getting pretty serious.”
“In what way?”
Dear god, I hold my breath for what she’s about to say.
“Like he would walk me to lunch every day.”
I make a noise of understanding. “I see.”
“And he wouldn’t let anyone else play with me at recess. It had to be just us two.”