“That retirement isn’t set in stone,” Dad says. “And even if it were, you’re not moving hours away from us at sixteen. It’s bad enough that your sister has.”
I poke at a potato on my plate, appetite mysteriously vanished.
“You’re retired?” Heidi asks, green eyes widening in surprise.
I wince, but nod. “Since last month, officially.”
“That’s so cool!” she exclaims. “Bazzy’s retired, too. You guys are like retirement twins!”
My parents eye Basil, the six-foot-massive, broad, muscular man sitting beside his wife with a scowl on his face.
I smile at his scowl.
“Young retirees club!” Heidi declares. “I’m so jealous. I love my job, and I believe in what I do, and I’d probably be bored to tears if I didn’t have it, but to have yourself together enoughto retire before you’re thirty?” She whistles. “You guys are amazing.”
“What did you do before retirement,” Dad asks Basil.
“He did some freelance work,” Heidi rushes to answer for him. “In a niche industry.” She turns to me, asking quickly, “What did you do?”
“Lia’s an author,” Fred says around an entire roll he’s somehow managed to fit in his mouth. “She writes romance books.”
“Wrote,” Archie corrects. “Before she retired.”
Fred toasts him with a forkful of asparagus.
Heidi’s eyes light up. “Romance? Like Camilla Evergreen?”
I bite my cheek, terribly aware of my mother’s eyes on me. “Yes, like Camilla. You’re a fan of hers?” I ask, knowing full well that she is.
“Absolutely,” she answers. “Do you know her?”
I shrug. “Yes and no? I’d say we’re distant colleague-level acquaintances.”
“Wow,” she breathes. “Youknowher.”
“Um.” I blink. “Distantly.”
“Do you have a pen name?” Millie asks, swiping at her phone. “I can’t find anything by Sarelia Prim.”
“It’s Pearl Taylor,” Archie answers. “Spelled in the common ways.”
She taps at her screen, then gasps. “You’re famous!” she accuses.
I follow Fred’s example and shove a roll into my mouth, the better to pretend this conversation isn’t happening as my parents sit feet away, judging.
“Let me see,” Heidi demands, leaning over Stryker to look at Millie’s phone. On Millie’s other side, Rosie squishes in, too.
I take another bite of my roll.
“Famous?” Mom asks.
Dad’s eyebrows furrow.
Fred’s eyes roll. “Do you guys pay attention to, like, anything?” he asks.
Mom’s face goes beet red. “Of course we do,” she snaps. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He grunts, disbelieving.
