Sloane let her hands slap back onto her lap. “Two Turtledoves. The first date for Two Turtledoves is always horseback riding at the Hazelthornes’ farm. I think my mom signed us up.”
Charlotte blinked at the ceiling, trying to make sense of horses and farms and turtledoves.
“I knew it!” Adele’s voice screeched from down the hall, startling Snickerdoodle. The dog barked once—Charlotte was positive her head exploded—and took off down the hall. “I knew you were up to something! Sloane!”
“I know!” Sloane called back, so loudly that Charlotte pressed her hands to her ears.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic—it’s just horseback riding,” Nina called.
Footsteps pounded on the carpeted hallway, then Sloane’s door flew open again to reveal Adele in a white tank top and a pair of dark-green boxers with little Rudolphs all over them.
“Our mother is a monster,” she said.
“That’s lovely, dear,” Nina said calmly, appearing next to hereldest, Snickerdoodle at her side, tail wagging. “I tried to tell you last night, but you wouldn’t hear it. Then you all drank far too much, by the way, so I couldn’t possibly tell you then.”
“Mom,” Sloane said. “No one wants to do this.”
“Correction!” Manish yelled from somewhere down the hall. “I’m totally up for some holiday snogging, thanks very much.”
“What about Nate?” Sloane yelled back.
“Oh my god, please stop screaming,” Charlotte said, but Sloane only patted her on the arm.
“Nate’s a dick!” Manish called back.
“See?” Nina said, waving her arm. “Nate’s a dick.”
Adele cracked a smile at that but shook her head.
“I’m in too,” Elle called. “Nina said there was cookie decorating!”
“And cooking lessons!” Manish said.
“And don’t forget the sure-to-be-so-awful-it’s-amazing open-mic finale,” Elle said.
“I dare you!” Manish called. “I triple-dog dare you to Turtledove your love life, Sloane Berry!”
“Oh,Turtledoveyour love life,” Nina said. “I like that.”
“Dear god,” Sloane said, then groaned at the ceiling.
“Mom, Two Turtledoves costs a fortune,” Adele said.
“Like three hundred bucks a person,” Sloane said. “We can’t ask everyone to—”
“Already taken care of,” Nina said.
“What?” Adele asked.
“Consider it your Christmas present.”
“I’d rather have some new AirPods,” Sloane said.
“Nonrefundable, I’m afraid,” Nina said, shrugging casually. “And it’s a fundraiser for the public schools, so don’t be a grinch.”
“Extortion,” Sloane said. “That’s what this is.”
“What about Brighton?” Adele asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. “She’s scared of horses.”
