No. Not today. Today I’m going to do better. I’m going to be considerate. Peaceful. Kind. Today I’m going to be the sister Tati wishes for.
“Well,” I say, keeping my tone pleasant, “thank you for your approval.”
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Piper.”
“Tati,” I return, dragging out the syllables.
She sighs. “I really don’t want to argue.”
“I don’t either.”
She looks skeptical, but she doesn’t hassle me. “Go shower. We’ll have a good time at the salon. No more talk about boys.”
I do as she asks.
The whole point of setting up her and Davis was to help chill her out. Help her cheer up. Help us reclaim some semblance ofa sister relationship rather than the custodian-captive dynamic we’ve been operating under for so many years.
It’s working.
Who am I to scoff at success?
Henry
Just about every morning since I’ve come to Sugar Bay, I’ve gone running. Pretty sure my dad would prefer that I skip myworkouts, just roll out of bed, and get ready for whatever activity he’s got planned. But my split times and my mental health require that I put in the miles.
When I get back to the apartment, winded and high on endorphins, I almost always find my dad in the kitchen, swilling coffee and demolishing cherry Pop-Tarts, leaving me to figure out a breakfast of my own. Today, though, he’s gone out for donuts. When I come out of the bathroom, shaking out my shower-damp hair, he’s on the couch watchingLegends of the Fall, pastry box on the coffee table.
“Hey, buddy.” He gestures toward the donuts. “Apple fritter or Boston cream?”
I snag a bottle of water from the fridge, then grab an apple fritter, zoning out in front of the movie until it ends. I watched it with Dad for the first time several years ago, back when he livedin Spokane. It’s one of my favorites.
“So, what’s going on today?” I ask when he shuts off the TV.
“Whatever you’re up for.”
I give him adon’t bullshit melook.
He laughs. “Really. I’m gonna head to the restaurant in a few hours, but until then, we can do whatever you want. Or you can do your own thing.” He leans in to jab me with his elbow, allwink-wink nudge-nudge. “Maybe you’re hoping to see Piper?”
“Maybe,” I say, like I’m not counting the minutes until we can hang out. “You and her sister hit it off, huh?”
Dad gives me a slick grin. “I’d say so.” And then a shadow of concern falls over his face. “Does it bother you? The idea of me seeing a woman?”
“Why would it?”
“I don’t know. ’Cause of your mom?”
“Dad, I’m not delusional. I’ve got no happily-ever-after fantasies about you and Mom.”
He lets out a breath. “I didn’t think so. Wanted to be sure, though.”
Sometimes I forget that he’s a real live adult. In moments like these, he feels like adad. I don’t hate it. “If you like Tati, see where it goes. I don’t care.”
He jostles my shoulder. “Don’t know how I got so lucky with you, Henry.”
