Grandma’s lip quivers, and she meets Haven’s eyes, then mine. She reaches for one of my hands and one of Haven’s. “My girls.”
It’s said with such affection and love that my heart breaks in a whole new way—with happiness for the family we became outof necessity one snowy night, then shaped with this deep and abiding love.
Grandma turns her attention to the hostess stand. “We should get two more place settings.”
She rises and heads to the front of the café, motioning for Banks and Wanda to join us. They do, keeping watch the whole time, but—I think—enjoying their ladybug pancakes, nonetheless.
After breakfast, Haven’s phone rings with Tabitha’s name flashing across it. She chats briefly with the producer as we leave The Ladybug Inn, then says to her, “I’m on it.” When she ends the call, she says, “A PA spilled coffee on the wedding dress. It’s ruined and we need a new one, stat, so Tabitha tracked one down at Second Time Around. They’re doing a quick adjustment to the straps, and I offered to pick it up on our way back.”
We hustle over to the consignment shop in town and snag the replacement gown. As we leave, there’s a tour group coming down the street that stops and asks my sister for autographs.
“We loveSomeone Else’s Ringso much,” one woman says.
“And you’re Lucy Snow! She’s so tough. The way she walked out on her wedding day,” another coos.
“And you and Chris are the perfect pair to play them,” one more adds.
Haven smiles and thanks them all as she signs and poses for selfies.
Wanda stays close to Haven while Grandma and I stand back, Banks scanning the street, watching over us. Across the road, some passersby slow down, lifting their phones to take pics of the moment.
Cyrus would think that was very meta too. I can’t wait to tell him. Better yet, to show him. I grab my phone to snap a pic of it, but once I open the camera the group across the street has moved on. As they walk toward the corner, I spot a profile that feels familiar. But then they turn down the block and out of sight, so I let the déjà vu sensation slip away as I return to the farm.
39
THE CAUTIOUS ONE
BANKS
Dean calls in the afternoon while I’m in the house setting up some security checks with new corporate clients in Los Angeles—we’ll test cameras, handle background checks, and evaluate cybersecurity. I answer the phone right away, and Dean wastes no time on a greeting.
“Can you get away Friday afternoon?”
“Nice to hear from you too. And probably,” I say. I’ve got backup here to cover Ripley when I can’t. “What’s it for? Did you get first-base-line tickets to the Dragons/Cougars game?”
Dean is a notorious baseball fan and will do just about anything to see a game.
“Yes, Banks. I’m suggesting we skip work to see a ball game,” he deadpans, then returns to serious business. “Webflix wants to move quickly. They asked to meet with both of us this Friday.”
I give a quick fist pump, then say in the same no-nonsense tone, “I’ll be there.”
“I’ll lock it in for the afternoon and we’ll meet with them in San Francisco.”
“Is that where you’ll stay?”
“Yup. I’ll fly in Thursday night. I’ll get you all the details.”
“We should meet beforehand and go over our game plan,” I suggest.
“Let’s do it.”
I exhale, and it feels like I’ve been holding my breath for a long time. I sink back into the couch, a little amazed. “Can I just say it? This is impressive. What we’re pulling off.”
“I hear you, but we’re not there yet,” he says, playing the cautious one, which is usually my role.
Lately, though, not so much.
“Right, but still,” I point out, “we started this firm a little over a year ago. We’re blasting past all the goals we set.”
