The only time I ever rocked the boat was in seventh grade. There was an art camp I wanted to attend, but it was for the entire summer, a state away, and it was expensive. My parents said no, and I was angry. My art teacher had encouraged me to apply, and I was accepted into the competitive program. I was even offered a small scholarship, but my parents didn’t budge. So I argued with my dad, which was unusual for me.
The rational part of me understands that it wasn’t my fault. It was just bad timing that, in the midst of our first heated argument, my dad had a heart attack. My more volatile sister argued with my parents all the time, and nothing bad had ever happened.
But ever since I saw my dad clutch his chest and fall to the ground right after I yelled at him, I haven’t been able to shake the anxiety I get whenever people have strong emotions or fight. It feels like life-and-death because at one time, that’s what it was.
I’ve been thinking about this lately. Since I woke up to the realization that I worry more about others than myself. Since Ronan started pointing out my trouble with saying no.
My dad recovered from that day, but did I?
Rose gives me a brief hug. “I know. I’m a nosy bitch. I always have been. But you’re not the only one in the family who likes to fix things. I want you to be happy, and I see you with this fresh start, and I want you to make choices that are right foryou. Don’t say anything now, but just think about it, okay?”
I close my eyes and lean into her hug. I missed my sister. My twin.
Even with the needling, even with her pushing, even when she drives me crazy, Rose has always been in my corner. She’s understood me more than I’ve understood myself sometimes.
I shouldn’t be surprised that she still remembers how much I struggled after Dad had his heart attack. But I wasn’t the only one affected by it, even if we reacted differently. I retreated behind my guise of being the good, helpful daughter. And Rose went in the opposite direction. She distanced herself and grew wilder, bolder, more independent.
“I will. But only if you promise not to be such a stranger now that you’re an old married woman. We miss you here.”
“You can visit me in New York as well. I have a bigger place now.”
“Oh good. I won’t have to sleep on a mattress next to the kitchen sink?”
She grins. “One of Kevin’s best traits is his beautiful, rent-controlled brownstone in Brooklyn. You know who else probably has a great house?”
I tilt my head. “Who?”
“Ronan Masters. I bet that LA pad of his is a real winner. Maybe he has a place in New York as well.”
“Oh my God, Rose. I’m the nanny.”
“Oh my God, Poppy.” She does an excellent impression of me. “You hooked up with him!”
“No! Well, maybe,” I admit in a whisper, looking around to make sure no one else can hear us.
“Shit!” she squeals and practically bruises my arm, squeezing it so hard. “You hit it with a Hollywood superstar. Holy shit, Pops. I always suspectedImight do something like that, but never you. I never thought you had it in you, but I’m super impressed.”
“Thanks,” I say drolly.
“I need details.”
The screen door to the back porch opens.
“Speak of the devil,” Rose says.
Ronan steps onto the porch. He stiffens when we both stare at him. Me with a wide-eyed “Caught!” look, and Rose with a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin.
His eyebrows shift upward. “I was looking for Belle.”
“They’re back in the tree house. And before you ask, they have blankets and hot chocolate, so I’m sure they’re fine. They’ll come inside soon, though, because I overheard the boys making attack plans. Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t asked you to help.”
“They asked if I had any tips for a siege. Should I be worried?”
“Only for the boys.” Rose cackles.
He nods. “That’s what I thought.”
“So, Ronan.” Rose’s voice goes sultry as she threads her arm through his, pushing open the door to lead him inside. “Have you had any particularlyexcitingexperiences during your stay in Snowflake Harbor?”
