I wait until I hear that swooshing sound and then Olivia starts laughing. “Tell her this exactly: I’m wearing the pj’s Sophie gave me, so I’m all good.”
I put Olivia on speaker so I can respond to her mom and talk at the same time. “I didn’t sign up for this,” I say.
“Yes, you did. This is being me.”
“Oh God, Aunt Lisa is texting back.”
I watch those three little dots jump around forever and worry about the length and subject matter of the next text.
MOM:Oh good! That will look fantastic with your tan. Are you wearing your hair down? Or maybe two braids. That would be precious.
“This is not happening,” I say to Olivia, then recite Aunt Lisa’s message to her. “Is she always like this?”
“Yep. And just reply:Down.”
I do as she says. “Is she going to ask for a selfie of you dressed up like this? Because I’m not sure I can be you to that extent.”
“Ha! No. She asked me for a selfie a few years ago and then she posted it on Facebook with some sappy caption and now she knows she’s banned from getting selfies of me forever. She likes to ramble but doesn’t expect much in return.”
“I get why you pulled out the truth or dare.”
“I’m on my way back. Today was a bust. The club isn’t open, which I totally didn’t notice when I looked up their hours yesterday. I don’t usually screw the details up like this.” Olivia mumbles the last part. She’s so used to being on top of everything that she’s really hard on herself the few times she messes up. I know how bad this whole thing is screwing with her.
“But I still need you to go grab that gift if you can. I’ll meet you in front of Bailey’s house at nine thirty. I brought the pj’s with me just in case.”
“Send me the location,” I say, and end the call. Hopefully I can get there and back before Aunt Lisa texts again.
Since my truck is still in front of Wes’s house, I jog back down that way. I have my hand on the door but look toward my grandparents’ house. I bet there’s food there. And just the thought of that has my stomach rumbling.
Checking the time on Olivia’s phone, I see I’ve got a few minutes to spare, so I run across the yard, clearing the back-porch steps in one leap.
The smell of bacon slams into me as soon as I open the door—just like it’s supposed to. God, I love bacon.
“Good morning!” I yell as I walk into the back of the house.
Nonna peeks her head out of the kitchen and smiles when she sees me. “Good morning! Want some breakfast?”
“Does the Pope wear a funny hat?”
She chuckles as I follow her to the stove. “Make a plate. There’s bacon and biscuits. Let me know if you want eggs.”
I grab a quick hug from her, then head to the cabinet. “You’re making my day, Nonna.”
The doorbell rings and we both look toward the front of the house. No one rings the bell. Ever.
“Let me see who that is,” she says before leaving the room.
I pile a huge amount of bacon on my plate and two biscuits. The jelly and butter are already out, so I slather some of both on each one. Just as I’m sitting down, I hear Nonna heading back this way.
“Leo, would you like some breakfast?”
I freeze as he enters the kitchen, waiting for the Evil Joes to show, but it’s just him.
“No, thanks. I just ate,” he says to Nonna, then nods to me. “Hey.”
“What’s up,” I say. He’s obviously just showered, since his hair is still wet and he’s wearing nice clothes. Like ones that have been ironed. At eight forty-five in the morning. What’s wrong with this guy?
“What brings you here?” I hear the tone as soon as the words leave my mouth. From his flinch, he didn’t miss it either. I feel bad for a split second until I remember he actually likes the Evil Joes.
