I think the answer’s yes.
She’s going to want something from him and his brothers that they might not want to give, but I believe her when she says she doesn’t want collateral damage.
I believe she wants to fit into a family.
And if I’m wrong?—
If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. There’s enough to be suspicious of in life.
I want to keep my rose-colored glasses on when it comes to Margie-Margot.
To be brave again.
To not be afraid to live.
The apple cobbler goes in the oven as the kabobs come off the grill, and we all head outside to eat in the cool evening. Jack and Lucky flank Margie, with Decker and me across the table and Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan at either end.
Mrs. Sullivan grills Margie on where she’s from and how she’s liking Snaggletooth Creek and if she thinks she’ll settle here long-term, and before long, even the triplets have calmed down.
They have no idea they’re dealing with a world-class achiever.
They think she’s just a nice person who’s putting effort into not messing up in front of their parents.
Not that the favor is being returned.
Their mom is dishing out a lot of, “Lucky, did you hear that? Margie loves cooking shows. You two should compare notes and cook together sometime,” and “Lucky, you should take Margie to Sir Pretzelot if she loves this bread that much,” and “Lucky, Margie’s never been white water rafting! What are you doing tomorrow? You should take her.”
“Rafting season is long over,” Decker says.
Jack takes a more direct approach. “Mom, leave him alone.”
“What? I’m just trying to be helpful. You boys so rarely have friends in town like this where you can really show them around.”
“He’s not into Margie like that,” Decker says.
Mrs. Sullivan rolls her eyes. “Because of the curse?”
“Shh,” Decker hisses.
“It’s not because of the curse,” Lucky says.
“Curses aren’t real,” Mrs. Sullivan adds.
“Don’t curse it worse by saying curses aren’t real,” Jack says.
“Don’t mind them,” Mr. Sullivan says to Margie. “They do this every time a new female-presenting person moves to town and so much as looks at one of the boys.”
“They’ve never let a friend stay in Grandma’s cabin,” Mrs. Sullivan points out.
He smiles at her. “They havetwopeople staying in Grandma’s cabin. Possibly they’re playing matchmaker.”
“We arenot,” Decker says.
“Unless you’re just pretending you can’t read a calendar right,” Jack says.
Margie’s nostrils wobble.
So do her lips.
