“Awesomehate songs. Besides, I released multiple hate songs about you too.”
“Yeah but your family is on your side. I’m sure as far as they’re concerned, anything bad you said was just self-defense.”
“Maybe, but even after all that, you won me over—easily. As soon as they get to know you, they’ll be right under your spell.”
The driveway is long and dusty, with trees on both sides. My grandparents’ house is a splotch of white at the end, while brown hills jut up in the distance behind it.
Having the doors off my vehicle spikes my adrenaline as we speed ahead. Harmony and I are belted in but it feels like we could fly right out—enough of a risk to be exciting without making me think I’m actually going to die. She grips my hand tightly but smiles. It was a pleasant surprise that she was so cool with driving like this (she even helped me strip everything down before we left).
Soon the house comes fully into view, a two-story California ranch with stucco siding and a reddish clay-tile roof that’s faded under the persistent sun. The second story was added later to provide more space for my grandparents’ growing family at the time, and to take advantage of the view. There’s a balcony out back that overlooks the whole property, which slopes downward slightly and makes it easy to see everything.
Grandpa’s sitting on the big front porch in a rocking chair wearing his usual getup: jeans and a flannel shirt with a fleece vest on top, Eckhart Groves logo embroidered on the left side of the chest. I still hate seeing him there without Grandma next to him. It’s been six years since she passed. I wish I could come more often to keep him company.
Mom’s there though, with Dad, Rachel, Garrett, Garrett’s wife, and my nephew and two nieces.
I pull up, then get out and open Harmony’s door. Everyone comes to meet us.
My parents, grandfather, and siblings take turns hugging me (my siblings’ kids hug my legs all at once) before I introduce Harmony. They say overlapping hellos and shake her hand one by one.
“Harm, this is my Grandpa Joe, my mom Judy, my dad Hank, my sister Rachel and her daughter Ari, and my brother Garrett and his wife Brianna and their kids Jackson and Lily.”
“Hi,” Harmony says. “It’s really nice to meet you all.”
The kids swarm her, especially the girls, who look like sisters even though they’re cousins—because of the dominant Hurley genes—both dark blonde with brown eyes, just different sizes.
Lily, who is nine, asks, “Can we have your autograph?” She digs into her pocket and pulls out a small notebook and a pen. Ari, age six, does the same.
“Ari,” Rachel whispers sharply. “What did I tell you about that?”
Brianna puts a hand on Lily’s shoulder. “Maybe after we’ve at least gotten to know her a little bit.”
That’s not what’s bothering Rachel though. It’s that she doesn’t want Ari to like Harmony at all, let alone ask her to sign something.
“That’s okay,” Harmony says in her kindest voice. “I don’t mind.” Accepting Lily’s pen first, she opens the notebook and starts to write. “‘To my dear friend’ … is it one L or two?”
“One,” Lily tells her.
“And a Y at the end?”
Lily nods.
“‘My dear friend Lily.’” Then Harmony signs her name with several elegant swoops. At the bottom she adds,Stay absolutely stellar.
Lily beams at her. “Thanks!”
I’m sure she can’t wait to show all her friends at school and make them bitter with jealousy.
Harmony does the same for Ari, who is bouncing up and down.
“You both have such pretty names,” Harmony says.
“So do you!” Ari shouts.
The volume makes Harmony flinch, but she laughs softly and says, “You’re so sweet. Thank you.” Her additional text for Ari says,Take up space, which I think is fitting.
“You ever been to an orange grove before?” Grandpa Joe asks.
“First time,” Harmony replies.
