“Go, go, go!” Beth yelled from across the room, eliciting an eye roll but also a couple giggles. Whatwasthis? What was this level of sheer craziness? And why was I enjoying it so much? Despite Erica’s perfectly manicured fingers, laughter bubbled up in my lungs.
The whistle blew. “Drop your balloons!” Peggy shouted. “I want to see all hands in the air!Top Chefhands now!”
“Nice reference, Nana,” Charlie weakly said, one of the many raggedly breathing, coughing, and exhausted balloon-blowers. Almost everyone fell to the floor, as if just barely surviving Erica’s favorite kickboxing class. (Per her vlog, it seemed like a nightmare.)
“Now comes the fun part.” Peggy beamed with steely eyes.
“Mom, don’t scare the children!” Erica choked out.
She waved a dismissive hand, already approaching my corner. “Team Green, I will start with you.” She raised her sewing needle. “One pop equals one balloon.” She smiled at me mischievously. “Olivia, this will be quick and painless…as long as you stay still.”
My stomach’s churning was so choppy that I almost asked to go to the bathroom.
To, you know, vomit.
But Peggy was too quick. With expert precision, she stabbed her needle through my thin nightshirt. Maisie laughed when I flinched at the first pop.
Erica surreptitiously filmed the scene. I glanced over my shoulder at Beth, hoping she wouldn’t notice her sister.We need evidence, I thought.Otherwise, Quincy and Gwen will never believe me when I tell them…
“Sixteen balloons for Team Green!” Peggy proclaimed.
Teddy hit me with high fives.
Team Yellow was up next. Nick was still standing, but he massaged his biceps while Finn had gone green. Beth’s husband still looked thin in his bloated nightshirt. Their tally was ten balloons.
“Thirteen balloons!” Peggy told the red team, and I laughed when Sage and Connor hoisted Bryce in the air. They were in second place.
Last but not least, we turned to Team Blue. Maisie looked stone-cold serious as Peggy went to work. All smiling smugly, Charlie, Beth, and my dad counted each pop aloud. “Boooo!” people chorused once even Maisie relaxed enough to join in: “Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen,eighteen!”
“And we have our winners!” Peggy grinned. “Team Blue has won an all-expenses-paid trip to Backdoor Donuts at midnighttonight!” She turned to Nick while I did a double take at the mention ofmidnight. What bakery was open that late? “You don’t mind driving, do you, sweetie?”
“Not at all, Nana,” Nick said, mumbling, “As long as I get an apple fritter.”
* * *
Topper had filmed tonight’s shenanigans and broadcasted it once us losers had cooled off later. It turned out Erica accidentally popping balloons and scratching my back hadn’t beenthatbad, but my expression had been caught on camera. “You look like you want tomurderher,” Bryce oh so sensitively commented, garnering more than a few laughs.
But it kind of made me feel like a bitch…and a little bad for Erica. If I’d known I’d given her a death glare, I would’ve apologized in the moment.
Tail between my legs, I went looking for her later, finding her in one of the house’s small studies with her laptop. “Scrolling through summers past?” I guessed, spotting the Shutterfly icon on her MacBook screen.
Erica visibly jumped at the sound of my voice. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, exhaling. “I thought you were my mother.” She muttered. “Or Beth.”
I gave her a look. “I sound like them?”
“Not at all.” She shook her head. “I’m a little paranoid becauseI’m working…” She trailed off, but I got the gist. Erica set her own hours and answered to no one, so why was she working when she could be spending time with her family? She cleared her throat and gestured at her computer. “I want to tweak the Hill House campaign before I post tomorrow.”
“Oh, nice,” I said. Hill House had sent Erica and Maisie matching nap dresses, and they’d done a “Like Mother, Like Daughter” themed photo shoot in one of Haddonfield’s gardens. Afterward, Maisie had begged me to take her to Starbucks…where she’d accidentally spilled her Frappuccino all over her dress. Erica had been less than pleased, but shehadadmitted it’d beena littlefunny. “I love those photos.”
“They turned out beautifully.” Erica raised an eyebrow slightly. “Do you need something?”
“No, I’m fine.” I took a deep internal sigh. “I just wanted to apologize for being a bit of a bitch earlier.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “It happened in the heat of the moment; we were really into it…” She trailed off to look at her manicure. Before leaving for the Vineyard, Maisie had talked her into Essie’s “clambake” red for the Fourth of July. “And my nailsmightbe a little too long.”
She half-smiled before returning to her laptop, which I knew was my cue to leave; at home, she always needed a silent office. “What’s with the scrapbook?” I asked though, pointing to her right. A light green album sat on the desk, seemingly untouched.
“Oh, Beth thought it would be nice for us to give our parentsan anniversary gift. We’re each responsible for several pages before the grandchildren fill in the rest.” She shrugged. “I have to get some work done first, though. Which has been hard with everyone watching me.”
