Greer tears open the envelope, her lips moving as she reads the results. “It…it…” tears form at the corners of her eyes, “it says I passed!”
“Whoo hoo!” Willa booms through the phone.
“One-seventy-two out of a possible two-hundred!” Greer says, voice wavering. “I think that’s good?”
“It’s great!” Willa enthuses. “I’ll call the girls and we’ll arrange to celebrate sometime next week.”
“Oh, there’s no need?—”
“Hush!” Willa scolds. “We’re celebrating whether you want to or not—so get on board.”
I mouth the words,“Oh, you’re going,”to Greer, and she blushes profusely.
“Alright, we can celebrate.”
“Great! I’ll hammer out the details and get back to you.”
As they say goodbye, I rush to grab the ice cream cake I have stowed deep in the freezer for this occasion.
I place it in the center of the table, orienting it so Greer can read the‘Congratulations’message. “It’s strawberry, your favorite.”
She gasps. “You had this waiting?”
“Of course,” I scoff. “I needed to make sure I could properly celebrate your achievement.”
“And what if I failed?”
“Then I would have pulled out the other cake that says: Better luck next time.”
Greer’s mouth becomes a thin line.
“I’m just kidding. There’s only one cake because I knew you were going to pass.”
She smiles shyly. “Thanks, Kell, for having such confidence in me.”
“No thanks needed. You’re both the smartest and the hardest-working person I know.”
She rolls her eyes. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t ya?”
“Enough of those starry eyes.” Rus grabs the knife and starts cutting the cake. “The damn cake is going to melt.”
Rus plates our cake, and we dig in, savoring the sweet treat.
A smear of whipped cream frosting at the corner of Greer’s mouth calls to me. Without thinking, I lean in and give her a long, passionate kiss, my tongue mopping up the wisps of cream.
“Gross!” Rus snarls, and I hear the clatter of silverware.
Greer giggles and pushes me away. “You need to finish your first dessert before searching for another.”
“Seriously?” Rus says, dumbfounded. “One more remark like that and I’m leaving.”
“Fine,” Greer huffs. “We’ll behave.”
Rus pulls out his phone. “Before you chase me out with your disgusting PDA, I need to get a picture of you with your result, and another with you, Kell, and the Range Rover. Wouldn’t want Mom and Dad to sleep easy after what they’ve done.”
Greer holds up her test results and says, “Mom already tried to send me a bill for issues that arose with me leaving like I did.”
Rus shakes his head. “To be honest, I wouldn’t blame you if you called the cops on them after the crap they’ve pulled.”
